The hottest Halloween costumes of 2010

The last time I appeared in costume, it was at a party in my favorite pub....I wrapped myself in cello film food wrap,as a 'Taco to Go'......the bartender took one look at me and said ... ..."I always thought you were crazy, but now I can clearly see yer nutz"

Once upon a time, in the Land of Employment (you do remember employment, don’t you? ) my wife took a new job shortly before Halloween.

One of her fellow staffers threw a Halloween party at her home. We were invited.

We hurriedly put together costumes and went to the party.

Few at the party knew my wife, since she had only worked at her new job for a few days.

And no one there except my wife knew me.

I dressed in all black, including a sinister looking black mask. Black shoes, black pants, black belt, black shirt. Black everything. I even had black hair – then.

I also carried a large, black, plastic garbage bag.

We entered the home. Those in the filled room greeted us warmly. They had already started to imbibe, so they were of obvious good cheer.

My wife cheerfully returned their warm greeting.

I said nothing.

I slowly moved about the room, picking up small item after small item, carefully placing each item in my plastic garbage bag. A clock here, a candle holder there. And on and on.

Initially, those at the party paid me little attention.

As I added items to my plastic bag, there began to be a muted chuckle here, a muted murmur there.

I remained silent.

I continued gathering items, placing them in my plastic bag.

Finally, still having said nothing, I walked out the front door, carrying my now mostly filled black garbage bag with me and quietly closing the door behind me.

I could hear laughter on the inside.

The laughter grew louder.

But suddenly those inside at the Halloween party grew quieter.

Then they were hushed.

I waited outside the front door. I could sense the growing concern of those inside.

Then I heard someone inside ask:

“Does anyone know who that was?”

No one answered -- not even my wife.

Finally, someone wondered aloud whether they had been burglarized -- right before their very eyes. Watch me just take things, unchallenged, and then simply walk out the door with them.

Suddenly, someone jerked the front door open.

Several of the party goers rushed outside to check on the burglar, to give chase.

I took off my mask, laughed and introduced myself. The burglar chasers were relieved. I handed over my loot

It got the party off to a rip-roarin’ start, even if I do say so myself.

Best Halloween party I have ever been to.

If you want really scary terrible home made edibles, my mother will oblige. She is happily oblivious as we learned to put up and shut up. Meal times were absolute torture as we always sat at  table & ate as a family. No amount of whinging & grizzling would shift the house rule that you don't leave the table 'till your plate is cleared. Sometimes, it was so bad that even the dog would refuse to help you out. My mother would beamingly tell visitors who were enjoying my early efforts at baking, making a roast dinner etc. that she had taught me to cook. In an obtuse way that was true, she was inspirational, motivational - as I worked out that the only way I'd ever get a decent meal at home would be to cut out recipies from her magazines & learn to cook. My dear Ma has many talents, cookery is not one of them.
lotlot~ great story.

Little  kids  like  to  dress  up  as  superheroes.   My  theory  is  that  they  feel  powerless  since  they  are  small,  and  therefore  they  wish  they  could  be  big  &  strong.   I  tried  playing  into  this  theme  when  the  kid  was  young,  in  some  original  and  productive  way.   Unfortunately  nobody  thought  "algebra  girl"  would  be  very  well  received.....

haze, thank you. Glad you learned to cook.

Election day nears.

Soon -- but not soon enough -- the scary politicial TV commercials will be gone.

I'll vote for that.

And, Bert, some of the politicians in those scary TV commercials try to dress up as super heroes too.

But we know better, don't we.

Let's go to the polls and unmask 'em.

Speaking of Halloween, ever noticed how many mixed drink recipes are out there using pumpkins as an ingredient?

Like good food, the best Halloween costumes are more often than not homemade.

We were lucky as children.

We grew up in a time and in a place where the streets were safe and we could go trick or treating without parents having to tag along.

I think there are several of us who date back to the days when parental escorts were not mandatory when trick or treating.  And when I was young, costumes were not bought in a store.  When I was 6 or 7 my mother made a pirate costume for me.  She sewed the vest and painted on a skull and cross-bones on each side.  We took some worn pants and zigzagged the edge into a sort of saw tooth.  We did buy an eye patch at the drugstore, and I had a plastic sword.  I don't remember what the hat was.  The whole thing won a prize at the neighborhood costume judging.  And then off I went into the night to collect goodies.  Now it's scary enough that we get few kids; there are a lot of Halloween parties instead.  And it is very rare to see a handmade costume.  Our five year old grandson has a Super Mario costume that he has been wearing on and off since they bought it.  Great hat, by the way.  But the costumes are prominent in the stores, and kids want to be their favorite figure.
I was reading a bit ago about small boys.  Turns out there is a phase where they see themselves as superheroes who can save the world - or at least their families.  It is important as part of their emotional growth.  It is where they get some of the compassion that they need later.  So, books about superheroes and costumes and all that are good for them.  So, I learned that I need to be tolerant of the Halloween store costumes.  Even though I'd love to see what they and their parents could make.

Several years back my wife and I would dress  in whatever kind of getup we chose but would not wear a mask because it would have put a damper on our plans. We would take a beer mug, a martini glass or highball glass and go to friends homes ring the door bell  and when the door was opened we reached out with our glasses ad said trick or treat. Then we were invited in very warmly and recieved a drink or two and our hosts would have one themselves, then on to  another friends home for more. When we finally stopped after several years friends would call and ask if we were feeling well or were we mad at them  or what happened because there were looking forward to our empty glass visit.

My wife's school had their annual parade where they march around the school in costume and this year all the rage was the white T shirt with a big "P" on it and a black circle 'round one eye thus A Black Eyed Pea. Clever.

More fun than teaching kids to make bombs out of Printers.

I am switching to the Party Party where the platform is prosperity and fun and the billions spent on campaign tv ads are diverted to the Cartoon Network. Long live Jonny Quest and Mayor HR Puffnstuff.

It tells you something important that in all the old watercolors and in all the old memories, the smoke from bonfires went straight up and in no hurry.
Those people, those neighbors, would not have put a match to the leaf pile in the wire, stone or block enclosure out back if if blowing or drifting smoke might have inconvenienced somebody downwind.
It tells you something that the children of the doctor, the dentist, the judge and the business owners all wore costumes of mostly found items from the rag box and that tinfoil on the star-tipped wand of a fairy godmother might be the only "boughten" item you were likely to see.
Cowboys wore Grampa's old straw gardening hat, an Oshkosh B'gosh bandana and stuffed a cap gun in their belts. Injuns wore a goose feather in one of those bandanas and called everyone "paleface" or "kemo sabe."
There were brides and grooms, princesses, fairies and hoboes. A lot of hoboes.
The decor was; jack-o-lanterns, corn shocks, sometimes, a bale of straw hauled out of the shed and, of course, a lot of black construction paper bats and broom-stick witches brought home from school taped up in the window and then, saved.
One old man had a scarecrow.
The judge, at his front door, handed out chocolate cigars ("Thanks, yer Honor") but his wife, at the side door, handed out popcorn balls (two; small enough, God bless her, for kids to eat) and big, soft, sweet-smelling hugs.
One year, our mom had us bring all of our early goodies back, dumped them into a huge bowl and took them over to a new lady on the block so she could turn on her porch light and get in on the deal. She was pretty.
When a kid from another street, egged and soaped the screens on the darkened house of some old people, my brother, Jack, dragged his sad fanny over on a Saturday morning, sat in a lawn chair and watched while he scrubbed and cleaned up the mess.
Around lunch time, his semi-outraged parents showed up. Jack never got out of that chair and before you knew it, the mom and dad pitched in and didn't quit until all of the storms were cleaned and put up.


http://www.tuxjunction.net/injunsummer.html
 


 

Stoney- I am sitting and listening to Glenn Miller with a cat in my lap and looking out the window past my telescope and my Mickey Mantle Rookie Card at a beautiful Fall day after reading Injun Summer and your story. Thank you from the bottom of my heart. I am bookmarking Tuexedo Junction which for some unknown reason made me think of Tennessee Tuxedo and the old Professor who advised Tuxedo and his sidekick.   My wife made those breakfast rolls with the little sausages inside and I envision that heaven consists of dayls like this. Happy Halloween all! 

As I live in jeans, boots and sweat-tops, any garment with a skirt that then requires stockings, tidy shoes with heels etc. is fancy dress. I feel like a complete impostor when I'm dressed up & have to keep looking down at my feet to check I haven't still got my wellies on.
When my son was about 6, we were vising a friend who mentioned that there was a fancy dress competition in the local carnival parade for under 10 year olds. Her two & my boy had faces covered in butter and jam as they scoffed freshly baked Welsh Cakes. The theme of the competition was children's stories, so I sarcasticaly suggested we could put them in as The 3 Little Pigs. So - I found myself making pig masks out of papier mache, curly pig tails out of heavy electric cable wrapped with elasoplast to make them pink .... the little piggies strutted along in the parade with their red scarf with white spot bundles tied to sticks carried over their shoulders, cushions stuffed down their trousers to make them look suitably fat - & won first prize! And not a thing was shop-bought.
As kids, we had an old cabin trunk full of dressing-up clothes. I think the only shop ones were our cowboy outfits & I was furious besuause the boys got ones with trousers & I got one with a skirt.

I share some of the memories of Halloween night that Stoney has painted so nicely for us. 

They are at once very sweet and yet bittersweet ‘cos it seems those seemingly innocent times when young children were able to fearlessly and joyously rule the night and the neighborhood for just one night and our parents biggest fear was that we would all have stomach aches because of all the candy we consumed.

I remember that except for the occasional store bought mask, our costumes where a collection of all manner of things from our homes and we would all laugh together when we gathered to politely pillage the neighborhood and reap the bounty of treats that awaited us; but never laughed at each other. There was only one goal and that was to have fun.

We would run though the alleys, gangways and sidewalks with reckless abandon. Of course we all heard stories of the real ‘boogey men' that sometimes preyed on our city; but they were seemingly few and far between and even those that did exist would take the night off on this magical night.

We children were always grateful for whatever treat was offered be it a Baby Ruth candy bar or a tiny bag of popcorn from Mrs. Corbet who must have been at least 150 years old and lived in a basement apartment. She would always invite us into her kitchen and offer us hot apple cider if the night was chilly. I used to go to the National Food Store twice a week to pick up and deliver her grocery order for her. It was a right of passage in my family that was passed down to me from my five siblings. I think she may be a Saint, or at least should be.

It took several years before it dawned on me that I was the only one of our gang who, when we were greeted at the back door of the surrounding apartments and bungalows, was called Johnny instead of Donald Duck, spooky ghost or scary pirate. I think it took awhile longer before I realized it was because of my telltale limp. This was a great relief to me ‘cos I was afraid it was because my costumes may have been at fault.

Halloween was the one night a year when the street lights being lit didn't mean we were out too long and had to go home. It was sort of like a taste of freedom.

Treat the children well....... wish for them warm memories.

peace out

My memories are of living just out of a very large southern city, when all seemed to be well, somewhere between the Vietnam War and MLK,Jr. being assassinated, magical times when kids roamed the streets from house to house, each the home of two and sometimes three kids and all knowing that dressed up costumed kids getting candy wasn't a threat to a years worth of church and Sunday school. It was a time of unity and harmony, a release from all things unknown, the future was now and all kids got along, even if for just one night. The darkness was a friend, and the monster under your bed was strikingly simular to the costume your best friend was wearing. The streets were brimming with candy seeking peers and wispers of the houses that had the best candy, and the hippy types that drugged or razor bladed the candy apples and where they supposedly lived. The mean old couple that lived around the corner that for one day would participate by lighting a pumpkin and giving out Reece's cups taped to a tooth brush.

The year you wondered if you were finally too old to trick or treat, but did it one last time, just for the heck of it

Great memories indeed.

Stoney, I love everything you write, everything you put down is music to my ears.  Once you made me cry so hard and I was depressed all weekend.  I couldn't explain myself to my husband who thought maybe I'd gone over the edge emotionally and perhaps a hospital visit was in the offing -- but I hadn't and it wasn't, I knew my tears and depression was due to having just read in the morning a story you wrote about the death of a friend and I've not forgotten it and I never will......The same way I will never forget the jewel of a story you put up here today, words of mine would dim those glowing words of yours, so I stop here and say thank you so much, thank you.  So much.  I'm so grateful to you, your talent, and your generosity in sharing all of it with us.  Thank you.

My memories are of living just out of a very large southern city, when all seemed to be well, somewhere between the Vietnam War and MLK,Jr. being assassinated, magical times when kids roamed the streets from house to house, each the home of two and sometimes three kids and all knowing that dressed up costumed kids getting candy wasn't a threat to a years worth of church and Sunday school. It was a time of unity and harmony, a release from all things unknown, the future was now and all kids got along, even if for just one night. The darkness was a friend, and the monster under your bed was strikingly simular to the costume your best friend was wearing. The streets were brimming with candy seeking peers and wispers of the houses that had the best candy, and the hippy types that drugged or razor bladed the candy apples and where they supposedly lived. The mean old couple that lived around the corner that for one day would participate by lighting a pumpkin and giving out Reece's cups taped to a tooth brush.

The year you wondered if you were finally too old to trick or treat, but did it one last time, just for the heck of it

Great memories indeed.

Ok, it's Halloween, so that and that alone is my explanation for a double post. Of course, I'm viewing this from my phone, so it might be, as my youngest daughter so aptly called it, an optical dilusion.

John. You are the dearest man. "I think it took a while longer before I realized [they still called me Johnny]  because of my telltale limp.  This was a great relief to me 'cos I was afraid it was because my costumes may have been at fault."  John,  I'd recognize you anywhere, in or out of costume, limp or no, because around you is a kind of aura that says to those who are near enough to hear:  this man is strong and he is good and he's the kindest soul you're ever going to meet, and if he calls you his friend, you're one of the luckiest people on this earth.   Dearest John, long may you run.

This is the Norman Rockwell Picture is a thousand words club.  Only because of the ability to put thought pictures into words that we all share,are we also able to see the pictures in each other's words.  How cool is that? If this were a shared trait amongst a larger proportion of the population, fewer misunderstandings over things of minor import or consequence would be a possible result.Thanks Mr P.   Have a Snickers  and some hot cider.

I was fortunate enough to see a major Rockwell exihibit at the High Museum in Atlanta. To see his work up close was like standing in the scenes. Most of his more popular paintings were life sized and filled with such incredible detail.

I also was lucky enough to come across my favorite book, The Adventures of Huck Finn and paired with Tom Sawyer, illustrated by Mr. Rockwell, in an antique store for pocket change. First editions also (with Rockwell illustrations).

I stand in awe and respect of the pictures the words left here leave in my minds eye. They are indeed like a Rockwell painting , vivid and clear, bless you all for allowing my pick-up truck writing to park in the same lot as the Rolls-Royces, Mercedes Benz's and Cadillac or two parked here. It's a car show like none I've ever attended.

In my growing up we lived at the southern end of the Appalachian Mountains. ..nearest neighbor 1/2 mile away, no electricity, no phone, no indoor plumbing, etc. So as you can imagine not a lot of trick-or-treating went on.
 
But one evening, while we were still quite young and in what I hope was a moment of temporary insanity, we sneaked through the woods to Mr.Garland Cornwell's house and with soap wrote the "F" word on the side of his beloved 1936 Chevrolet Master Deluxe replete with knee-action shocks. As we ran away, as quietly as we knew how and hoping the End of Time didn't come while such sin was upon us, the shot heard 'round the world rang out. We realized our end had come ...that we were going to face whatever reward we had earned up to tht time and that it might just possibly be retroactive to our birth.
 
By the Grace of the good Lord, we got away and to this very moment I remember the relief of having escaped.
 
Mr. Cornwell died this month at the age of 92.
 
Life is good.

George Hall, life is indeed good.

Especially when we find ways to add to the good life of others.

Funny how that works. The more we add to others, the better life gets for us.

We were living in Detroit for three Halloweens.  The city was crowded, houses close to each other, and in regular blocks.  I was in 4th, 5th and 6th grades.  We trick or treated in swarms.  It was a time when every house seemed to have at least one child, sometimes two or three.  And that last Halloween, I was larger and allowe4eHfaster.  I took a grocery bag (paper - there were no plastic ones then) and managed with great speed and industry to fill three bags.  The loot made a huge pile that almost filled the dining room table.  My folks were aghast at the amount of sweets, but I sorted them and reveled in it.  The next year we moved to a Lansing suburb with few kids and larger lots and fewer houses.  I did a bit of trick or treating, but that was the last year.  It just wasn't the same.

My grandson in his Super Mario costume is over, making cookies with Grandma.  Soon she will take him and his 10 month old sister (also over) back home and accompany them in trick or treating.  I will stand guard here and hand out treats,  The leaves are 75-80% turned, and the air is cold and crisp with their smell.  Isn't it wonderful?  Ah, he just brought me a fresh baked warm cookie full of plump raisins and cinnamon.  I love it!

This is a revised version of my 2:15 a.m. posting. It has a new ending:

Once upon a time, in the Land of Employment (you do remember employment, don’t you? ) my wife took a new job shortly before Halloween.

One of her fellow staffers – her new boss, actually -- threw a Halloween party at her home. We were invited.

We hurriedly put together costumes and went to the party.

Few at the party knew my wife, since she had only worked at her new job for a few days.

And no one there except my wife knew me.

I dressed in all black, including a sinister looking black mask. Black shoes, black pants, black belt, black shirt. Black everything. I even had black hair – then.

I also carried a large, black, plastic garbage bag.

We entered the home. But I let my wife go in first; I waited several seconds before going into the home. I wanted to give the impression I was there alone. Those in the filled room greeted us warmly. They had already started to imbibe, so they were of obvious good cheer.

My wife cheerfully returned their warm greeting.

I said nothing.

I slowly moved about the room, picking up small item after small item, carefully placing each item in my plastic garbage bag. A clock here, a candle holder there. And on and on.

Initially, those at the party paid me little attention.

As I added items to my plastic bag, there began to be a muted chuckle here, a muted murmur there.

I remained silent.

I continued gathering items, placing them in my plastic bag.

Finally, still having said nothing, I walked out the front door, carrying my now mostly filled black garbage bag with me and quietly closing the door behind me.

I could hear laughter on the inside.

The laughter grew louder.

But suddenly those inside at the Halloween party grew quieter.

Then they were hushed.

I waited outside the front door. I could sense the growing concern of those inside.

Then I heard someone inside ask:

“Does anyone know who that was?”

No one answered -- not even my wife.

Finally, someone wondered aloud whether they had been burglarized -- right before their very eyes. Watch me just take things, unchallenged, and then simply walk out the door with them.

Suddenly, someone jerked the front door open.

Several of the party goers rushed outside to check on the burglar, to give chase.

I took off my mask, laughed and introduced myself. The burglar chasers were relieved. I handed over my loot

It got the party off to a rip-roarin’ start, even if I do say so myself.

Best Halloween party I have ever been to.

Except that there was one remaining not-so-tiny detail.

When she went back to work the following Monday, my wife had to return her new boss’s bathroom scales.

Somehow, I had overlooked returning that item.

Oops.

lotlot- couldn't help "weighing" in on that. Good story. 

Wonderful stories, all! PARK.........see, you've experienced it too, there's no explanation....just wells & wells of tears & then they stop & then you feel clean...........
 
UMMGAWA...........I grew up w/ hippies, real ones........they would be the LAST people on earth to ever poison candy or put razor blades in apples. Please be careful what you say.....you may not agree w/ their lifestyle, but I am here to tell you that they are both good people and productive people. When I taught at the hippie school we had a field trip to a commune & one of my kids whose father was delightful, but extremely conservative came w/ us. He had expected to be appalled, but he had the time of his life & actually had an ongoing flirtation ( he was divorced) all day w/ a lovely young thing & he went back to learn how to compost..............
 
Happy Halloween all....may you have wonderful memories of your halloween days. My husband gave me the complete Charlie Brown holiday dvd set last Christmas, so I will be watching the great pumpkin later...........

bebe- The hippie movement had its issues but gentleness was at its core. I moved in those circles for a while myself and the intent there was to make the world a better place by returning to a more natural way of living. A lot of hangups were addressed during that era. And yes, there are always those who preyed on the innocent but usually insincere outsiders. My eight year stint trying to get through college was filled with a lot of travel and an education that was outside of the ivory tower. No regrets lettin my free flag fly and I am a gentler kinder redneck as a result of it. That drum solo on "In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida" alone was worth the ride. 

Well, Halloween seems to be over here.  It lasted for about an hour (6:30-7:30, more or less) and I had 30 trick or treaters.  I gave out little boxes of raisins (which my daughter thinks is a terrible thing to do and my wife thinks is a good thing), and kept count because I know how many I started with.  Almost all the kids came in groups, and the first few groups were junior high school aged.  In fact, one young lady was taller than me - although she did have on high heels.  The older ones had handmade costumes; the smaller ones were princesses, pirates, Superman, etc.  And typical of Northern Virginia, this was the first evening of the fall that was really chilly.  And as suddenly as all of it had started, it ended.  My wife went down to my Stepdaughter's house to go along on the trick or treating, and commented that more houses than usual were not giving out anything at all.

Bebe- I need to make this perfectly clear. The razor blade apples and drugged up candy was just an urban legend that always circulated around our massive neighborhood when I was between six and nine years old. I am simply conveying the social attitude amongst the white bread baby boomer kids that were prevalent in my world in the 60's. Remember, we were just kids and our parents didn't understand the whole hippy thing. I have learned that back then, it was easier for adults to dislike what they didn't understand, and by passing that fear on to kids in the form of "evil hippies" was as simple and effective a method available at the time.

I simply expressed a social condition from a rough time in history. Lieing about what I perceived to be true doesn't change my history. Perception among my first thru forth grade friends was that hippies did drugs, the hippies we saw did drugs. The reality was simple, the hippie movement was a peaceful one, by in large, but us little kids didn't know it.

I guess if you could somehow retroactively go back and kick the crap out of a kid for hearing an urban legend, maybe now you'd feel better about it now.

No offense intended or implied, just can't change history to make you feel different about what a bunch of kids heard and believed. Still won't change our truth from forty plus years ago.

You still remember being a kid don't you?

 I'm just going to sit here wondering if you have had several large drinks or if you ought to have.

UMMGAWA............I did not understand that you were coming from a child's perspective on that one, I must have misread. My apologies. And yes, I can quite remember what it was like to be a child...............
 
TT....the line "a gentler, kinder redneck" is a classic.....thanks for that nice memory..........

What a beautiful Halloween night it was.  If the
dead were out walking with the living, they certainly looked sprightly and well
appointed.  Our first stop as always was the neighborhood old folk's home
( assisted living center sounds too cold and nursing home too terminal).  The
kid's love it as do the old folks and their elders.  The old folks all dress up
and hand out treats.  You can see them being transported back to their own trick
or treat days as the smiles cross their faces, fade and relight again as the
kiddles pass by.
 
The city of Newnan turns into a halloween heaven,
it is as close to Carnival or Mardi Gras that this sleepy little city will get. 
The houses are turn of the century or older, with gables, tall windows, long
porches, dark corners and long tree lined sidewalks.  A perfect setting for the
holiday.  The centerpiece is a pirate ship over 100 feet long and fifteen feet
high manned by swash buckling ghouls and pirates.  Another house holds the
throne of the queen of hearts and she will dispense candy or if necessary an
Off with her head.  Ten feet away is the executioner and if the child
is willing and not traumatized by the thought he can lay his head on the stump
and take a whack from the ax. No heads have rolled from the treatment. It is a
fun time for all who attend.
 
The little ones are tuckered.  Sleep well
all.

Paolos- Newnan...Georgia?

Tommy ~
Thank you and Park4, well, what can I say? Everybody has some reason to get up in the morning but not necessarily to sit down here. I have you... we got each other.
I have posted a photo that is not funny. The story that goes with it is. Soon.

I caught my Mom! I did not,and would not take a pix of Mom going thru the bowl of candy....she was coveting (a word?) the Kit Kats and Snickers (a relative of yours~P?)and putting them in her pocket!If this was a B.Bunny cartoon, there would have been whistling,too!  .   There were many T&Ters early today, but as I had chores, I was not going to stay home and feed their craves....besides.....everyone has the same bag of 150 "treat size" confections.....so I left Mom in charge as I went with the dog and chore list.....lo and behold..the bulk of the candy booty was intact upon our return...(?) was Mom planning a "bulk" lef-over?   .   Dunno   .Mom ain't tellin....but she does have that tell tale smudge of choclate....

I volunteer at The National Zoo in Washington, DC.  Every year the Zoo hosts "Boo at the Zoo."  The whole Zoo is decorated for Halloween.  It is limited access as you have to buy tickets and the Zoo closes early (4:30) those three days.  I'm either a clown, a gecko or cat in the hat and am usually somewhere along Asia Trail (my regular area).  This year, on the Saturday, it was a sellout - 5,000.  It's wonderful to see the kids and, this year, Buzz Lightyear was the big costume.  But, my favorite was worn by a little girl who looked like she may be 8-9.  Visualize this to see if you can figure it out before I end.  She had on a good size box (head out the top and arms out the sides).  The whole box was painted red and white vertical stripes (picture it yet?).  Then on the top of the box, surrounding her head, piled high - mounds of POPCORN.  How neat was that and how cheap it was to create that.