LAST-MINUTE, NO-SEW HALLOWE’EN COSTUMES

Resist the urge to buy ready-made costumes this fall—conjuring them up yourself is one of the quickest cheap thrills I know to satisfy the creative urge! My sibs and I grew up trick-or-treating in the flashiest outfits (a skunk that sprayed, a ballerina remade from a pawn-shop wedding gown) and my own kids stuffed their tickle trunk full of disguises they played in all year long (a hula girl, a purple chenille elephant). Like the character in my novel who designs for Incognito Costume Shop, I personally love to sew, but I’ve come across some great ideas that involve nary a stitch—though you might want to heat up your glue gun. Just follow these few principles that ensure costume-making success:

• Check out patterns at your local craft and fabric store or online, but only to ignite your imagination. Don’t cave in to the illusion that, with a bit of luck and a couple of hours, you can fabricate the “Strong Man with Padded Pecs” or “Queen Elizabeth in Historic Honeycomb Collar”! Instead look for strong, thematic images: a woodland nymph can be born of netting and fake ivy attached to a filmy dress already in your closet; a bulbous red nose is synonymous with a clown;white greasepaint and gloves paired with a striped t-shirt screams mime. I once pulled a square of gold-embroidered cranberry sheer silk through a paper cone decorated with sequins for the start of an imperial princess; this same scarf veiling my face beneath heavily lined eyes later transformed me into a harem girl.

• Utilize inexpensive materials you have on hand.For example, a thin, old sheet still makes a great ghost, or add a golden belt and flower coronet for a Greek goddess. Alternatively strips of that sheet or gauzy cheesecloth can be wound around a body for the perfect mummy (ensure eyes, mouth, and bottom can be loosened for seeing, snacking, and peeing!). One year our ranch yard yielded up a deerskin hide, cow horns, and a cone from the tip of an airplane propeller spinner; with a screwdriver and a bit of my husband’s brawn, I remodelled our son into a helmeted Viking warrior.

• Visit the dollar store.Don’t waste money on expensive props;instead go for one oversized item that sparks your imagination. An out-of-season water gun spray-painted black (paired with grandpa’s fedora) has gangsta written all over it. Blow up two dozen green or purple balloons and pin them onto clothes for a perfect bunch of grapes, topped with a cap of curled pipe cleaners as grapevines. Stick softly crumpled sheets of white tissue paper all over your body (or use cotton or quilt batting) and fill a spritzer bottle with water to become a raincloud.

• Consider caricatures. A costume is overblown illustration rather than exact replica. Instead of making a complete furry body for a mouse, for example, dress your youngster in sweats and draw whiskers radiating from a lipsticked nose, add a tail of heavy cording, and pop on ears via headband with pink-lined grey semicircles of posterboard or stiff fabric. Try stuffing four pairs of tights attached to the waist for an eight-legged spider or octopus. Dress up as a sassy Santa’s helper using red toque, short skirt, and tall black boots, and give away candy canes from a Christmas-wrapped box. My favourite caricature costume was one my sister made of a marionette: she dressed in suspenders and shorts, brown ankle boots, perky green hat with feather, and a tie-on Pinocchio nose; she drew “joints” at the knees on leggings and at the elbows on sleeves; finally, she criss-crossed wooden dowels and attached the four ends to her hands and feet with heavy string. It was remarkable!

• Use international souvenirs. Wooden shoes from Holland and a basket of tulips transformed my daughter into a little Dutch maid. The yukata robe, sash, and lacquered geta sandals I brought back from Japan as a young woman still elicits the geisha in me. A sombrero, fake moustache, sandals, and woven poncho say Mexican loud and clear, señor!

• Make a point. Costumes are a great excuse to get up on your soapbox. If you’re a literary buff and want to tell your favourite story, glue on a red “A” and represent Nathaniel Hawthorne’s adulteress in The Scarlet Letter, or carry a large bell and flaunt a hunchback and a limp to bring Victor Hugo’s Quasimodo to mind. If you’re a frustrated theologian, carry a hammer, nails, and a scroll titled “Ninety-Five Theses” to introduce the event that sparked the Protestant Reformation when the German monk Martin Luther posted his opinions on the door of the Wittenberg Castle Church on October 31, 1517. Or dress in tweeds and hat, clench a pipe between your teeth, and grasp a magnifying glass to celebrate The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes, published by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle on another Hallowe’en—October 31, 1892.

• Think professionally.Grab a carving knife and dress in auntie’s scrubs and mask and as a surgeon; exchange the knife for pliers and you become a dentist. Snorkel plus mask plus ridiculous flippers and a hint of French accent equal Jacques Cousteau. Transform into a cowboy with Stetson, chaps, boots, and lasso. Here’s a fun one for the artist in you: become an artist’s paintbrush by dressing all in black or tan, adding a tin-foil band around the neck and maybe silver paint to your face, then gel your hair up straight and spray it a vivid colour.

• Don’t discount the humble cardboard box.A shoulder-width, flat box with openings for head and arms can be painted black and then stuck with skeleton bones of shoulders, chest, pelvis, and thighs to imitate an X-ray machine; the same carton painted with Cheerios or Lucky Charms simulates a cereal box. I once made a fabulous robot with a kid-sized box, arms of dryer vent ducting, and battery-powered Christmas lights glinting off the metallic-paint finish. And Rapunzel is a winner: draw stone shapes on a tall hexagonal box and tape loosely crumpled “rocks” of brown paper on the hem to hide the feet; then cut an arched window near the top for your face and attach a long swath of braided blond wool to dangle to the floor.

Don’t give in to purchasing or renting a pre-made costume; designing one is hilariously fun and doesn’t take a lot of expertise—just imagination and a sense of humour!