I felt quite pleased with myself for actually creating a costume in advance of Halloween night this year. True, it was only a couple of days in advance. But certainly an improvement over throwing something together as the doorbell was ringing on Halloween night.
It had been my intention to record the process of constructing my headless costume step-by-step as I created it. But like so many of my good intentions, this one never materialized. Partly because the last few days before Halloween are so frantic. And partly because, until almost the last moment, I had serious doubts about its success. And hence, the fear that any record of the process would then serve only as a sad reminder and a cautionary tale.
But in the end it turned out well. Not perfect, but acceptable. And as my thoughts begin to drift toward next Halloween, I can't let 2009 slip away without recording the process in retrospect for future reference. Or for general amusement. Photos are sparse. Only one or two were taken as I was putting the costume together. For the aforementioned reasons. Most were taken during the deconstruction process. So this will require some backwards thinking on my part.
The inspiration for the headless costume was one I had seen in Make magazine and marked with a mental sticky note as a great idea for that Halloween. Two years later the mental sticky note was becoming frayed and torn. This was the year.
I read through the artist's process for creating the costume. When I reached the part about welding copper pipes together, I realized some modifications would be necessary. So with a general idea of the process simmering in my mind, I made my way to the basement to search for discarded junk that might serve as alternative construction material. And to think of a way to create a reasonable facsimile of this costume by using whatever I could find within a 30-foot radius of my house.
I found an old school backpack that had belonged to my son. These are always easy to find since he manages to destroy an average of two each year. Instead of copper pipes, I used old curtain rods. The metal bendable kind with adjustable lengths. I also found a few chunks of styrofoam which were almost the width of my shoulders and which I thought would be an easier alternative to sculpting clay. And it was. Sort of. I then grabbed a roll of duct tape and started work on the frame.
The curtain rods were adjusted to the proper length and duct-taped into position. They were then placed into the backpack. One of the styrofoam pieces was placed between them at the bottom of the backpack to keep them from moving. And of course, the styrofoam piece was duct-taped to the curtain rods. The rods extended up out of the backpack and over my head where the top ends were then pushed through the second chunk of styrofoam, so that it hovered just above my head. The top ends of the rods were bent to prevent them from sliding off. The final piece of styrofoam was attached to the front of the second piece to give the illusion of a chest. And yes, duct tape was added for extra security. The shoulders were complete.
Arms were created out of a wire coat hanger inserted through the length of the back styrofoam chunk. It emerged roughly where arms should emerge from shoulders. (I also made a mental note to keep the vacuum cleaner nearby when tearing apart styrofoam. That stuff can really scatter.) One arm was extended by attaching flexible garden wire to the coat hanger end and then using it to create fingers. Substance was given to the arms with foam pipe insulation. And once again, everything was duct-taped into place.
All that remained was to create the neck stump. And it was here that things began to go awry. Here that the success of the project fell into doubt. Here that my confidence began to erode. Here that I began to think of a last-minute costume I could throw together on Halloween night.
My first (and ill-fated) idea was to invert a styrofoam wig head, cut a neck-sized piece out of the back of the styrofoam shoulders and position the inverted wig head so the neck portion would stick up above the styrofoam shoulders like a neck stump. The head part of the wig head would of course be hidden under the styrofoam shoulders between the curtain rods. It sounded good. In theory.
No photographs exist of this stage. It would have been too painful. I'll just describe it as best I can. The first wave of despair hit when the inverted wig head could not be easily stabilized in the cut portion of the shoulders. Glue didn't work. Even the invincible duct tape let me down. Then I thought of a solution. I got out my wood burning tool. It would be simple. I would melt the edges of the cut-out styrofoam shoulders around the inverted wig head. When it hardened, it would be one solid mass, everything locked into place. I might add here that I did have the good sense to take this part of the project outside onto the deck. Otherwise, the fumes would have likely killed me in seconds. On a more unfortunate note, the melted-then-hardened mass promptly snapped when cooled. Apparently packing styrofoam and wig head styrofoam don't blend well. Who knew?
Back to the drawing board. And back to the basement for alternative neck stump material.
I managed to find a piece of soft foam that could be easily cut , rolled, and inserted into the gaping melted styrofoam hole at the back of the shoulders. Incredibly, it looked quite good. An ideal size, shape, and texture. Shame about the bright yellow colour though.
It was here that I ventured outside my house for a solution. A neighbour had a prop in her yard with a severed hand. Where the hand should have been, she substituted cooked angel hair pasta and ketchup. I wasn't keen on the ketchup, but the pasta created an interesting effect. Instead of ketchup, I added red food colouring to the pasta as it cooked. I then piled the cooked pasta onto the foam neck stump, glued it in place, and added a little extra food colouring. It worked surprisingly well. Perhaps not in the cold light of day, but certainly at night.
Finally, at 3 o'clock on October 31st, I strapped on the backpack, slipped an extra-large sleeveless dress around both the frame and myself, and a cloak around that. A long glove covered the wire hand, which was bent into place under my severed head. The matching glove was on my one exposed real hand (used for handing out treats). And I was ready to go. With a planned and executed costume. And with only minor disasters along the way.
But would I do anything differently? Oh, yes.
While the styrofoam idea seemed easier at the time, sculpted clay would likely have been the better choice because the whole shoulder/neck area could have been created simultaneously. No need to endanger my health by melting styrofoam. And I would have used two fake hands to support my severed head and let someone else hand out treats. Maneuvering with my one real hand kept messing up the cloak and requiring periodic re-adjustments. Or perhaps I can blame it on the raging winds that night.
Next Halloween's costume will be simpler. Since most of my time will likely be taken up by the creation of four Tusken Raiders. Haven't started those yet. But one thing I can guarantee: it will definitely not involve the melting of styrofoam.
It had been my intention to record the process of constructing my headless costume step-by-step as I created it. But like so many of my good intentions, this one never materialized. Partly because the last few days before Halloween are so frantic. And partly because, until almost the last moment, I had serious doubts about its success. And hence, the fear that any record of the process would then serve only as a sad reminder and a cautionary tale.
But in the end it turned out well. Not perfect, but acceptable. And as my thoughts begin to drift toward next Halloween, I can't let 2009 slip away without recording the process in retrospect for future reference. Or for general amusement. Photos are sparse. Only one or two were taken as I was putting the costume together. For the aforementioned reasons. Most were taken during the deconstruction process. So this will require some backwards thinking on my part.
The inspiration for the headless costume was one I had seen in Make magazine and marked with a mental sticky note as a great idea for that Halloween. Two years later the mental sticky note was becoming frayed and torn. This was the year.
I read through the artist's process for creating the costume. When I reached the part about welding copper pipes together, I realized some modifications would be necessary. So with a general idea of the process simmering in my mind, I made my way to the basement to search for discarded junk that might serve as alternative construction material. And to think of a way to create a reasonable facsimile of this costume by using whatever I could find within a 30-foot radius of my house.
I found an old school backpack that had belonged to my son. These are always easy to find since he manages to destroy an average of two each year. Instead of copper pipes, I used old curtain rods. The metal bendable kind with adjustable lengths. I also found a few chunks of styrofoam which were almost the width of my shoulders and which I thought would be an easier alternative to sculpting clay. And it was. Sort of. I then grabbed a roll of duct tape and started work on the frame.
The curtain rods were adjusted to the proper length and duct-taped into position. They were then placed into the backpack. One of the styrofoam pieces was placed between them at the bottom of the backpack to keep them from moving. And of course, the styrofoam piece was duct-taped to the curtain rods. The rods extended up out of the backpack and over my head where the top ends were then pushed through the second chunk of styrofoam, so that it hovered just above my head. The top ends of the rods were bent to prevent them from sliding off. The final piece of styrofoam was attached to the front of the second piece to give the illusion of a chest. And yes, duct tape was added for extra security. The shoulders were complete.
Arms were created out of a wire coat hanger inserted through the length of the back styrofoam chunk. It emerged roughly where arms should emerge from shoulders. (I also made a mental note to keep the vacuum cleaner nearby when tearing apart styrofoam. That stuff can really scatter.) One arm was extended by attaching flexible garden wire to the coat hanger end and then using it to create fingers. Substance was given to the arms with foam pipe insulation. And once again, everything was duct-taped into place.
All that remained was to create the neck stump. And it was here that things began to go awry. Here that the success of the project fell into doubt. Here that my confidence began to erode. Here that I began to think of a last-minute costume I could throw together on Halloween night.
My first (and ill-fated) idea was to invert a styrofoam wig head, cut a neck-sized piece out of the back of the styrofoam shoulders and position the inverted wig head so the neck portion would stick up above the styrofoam shoulders like a neck stump. The head part of the wig head would of course be hidden under the styrofoam shoulders between the curtain rods. It sounded good. In theory.
No photographs exist of this stage. It would have been too painful. I'll just describe it as best I can. The first wave of despair hit when the inverted wig head could not be easily stabilized in the cut portion of the shoulders. Glue didn't work. Even the invincible duct tape let me down. Then I thought of a solution. I got out my wood burning tool. It would be simple. I would melt the edges of the cut-out styrofoam shoulders around the inverted wig head. When it hardened, it would be one solid mass, everything locked into place. I might add here that I did have the good sense to take this part of the project outside onto the deck. Otherwise, the fumes would have likely killed me in seconds. On a more unfortunate note, the melted-then-hardened mass promptly snapped when cooled. Apparently packing styrofoam and wig head styrofoam don't blend well. Who knew?
Back to the drawing board. And back to the basement for alternative neck stump material.
I managed to find a piece of soft foam that could be easily cut , rolled, and inserted into the gaping melted styrofoam hole at the back of the shoulders. Incredibly, it looked quite good. An ideal size, shape, and texture. Shame about the bright yellow colour though.
It was here that I ventured outside my house for a solution. A neighbour had a prop in her yard with a severed hand. Where the hand should have been, she substituted cooked angel hair pasta and ketchup. I wasn't keen on the ketchup, but the pasta created an interesting effect. Instead of ketchup, I added red food colouring to the pasta as it cooked. I then piled the cooked pasta onto the foam neck stump, glued it in place, and added a little extra food colouring. It worked surprisingly well. Perhaps not in the cold light of day, but certainly at night.
Finally, at 3 o'clock on October 31st, I strapped on the backpack, slipped an extra-large sleeveless dress around both the frame and myself, and a cloak around that. A long glove covered the wire hand, which was bent into place under my severed head. The matching glove was on my one exposed real hand (used for handing out treats). And I was ready to go. With a planned and executed costume. And with only minor disasters along the way.
But would I do anything differently? Oh, yes.
While the styrofoam idea seemed easier at the time, sculpted clay would likely have been the better choice because the whole shoulder/neck area could have been created simultaneously. No need to endanger my health by melting styrofoam. And I would have used two fake hands to support my severed head and let someone else hand out treats. Maneuvering with my one real hand kept messing up the cloak and requiring periodic re-adjustments. Or perhaps I can blame it on the raging winds that night.
Next Halloween's costume will be simpler. Since most of my time will likely be taken up by the creation of four Tusken Raiders. Haven't started those yet. But one thing I can guarantee: it will definitely not involve the melting of styrofoam.