This is Halloween
It should come as no surprise to anyone that I love Halloween. I've always appreciated the creativity and craftiness of making my own costumes, and my everyday aesthetic could be best described as macabre. I wear ghost socks and decorate with skulls year-round, so October is the one month of the year where it all syncs up.
I'm disappointed that this is the first year since 2013 that I'm not throwing a BooZy brunch. I moved into a studio and have literally no space for visitors. As much as I love living alone (seriously, it's the best), I felt a little lost this year not having party prep on the agenda. I did the next best thing, however, and channeled all of my Halloween energy into making a very complicated and unwieldy costume, which I will debut tonight at the Village Halloween parade (and hopefully it won't hobble me for days afterward).
I did take all of my decorations with me in the move—they constitute an embarrassing percentage of my overall belongings—but they'll stay packed away until my next party (whenever that may be). Luckily, New Yorkers have been good about getting into the spirit(s) this year, and my walk from the bus stop to work every morning has been filled with ghoulish delights.
I'm not sure what it's like in other parts of the city (decorations are sparse in my Harlem neighborhood), but residents of the Upper East Side take Halloween very seriously. It's also interesting to me to see literal multi-million dollar mansions covered in spiderwebs and severed plastic limbs, but that's exactly the kind of rich person I would be.
I have no concrete evidence of this, but they probably pay someone to decorate for them—like some of the Dyker Heights lights displays—and if so, how do I get this job?? Regardless of how they get there, I love all of the spooky kitsch—skeletons, tiny bats, elaborate mannequins—and will always appreciate the humor and effort behind it all.