I never dress up for Halloween. After all, the very idea makes me cringe.
Not since my childhood days when every costume came in a box with a cellophane lid so you could see the mask and decide if that was the costume for you. And I’m pretty sure, no matter what costume you chose–cowboy, witch, princess or maniacal clown–it was made of some cheesy, flammable cloth that came in only size and was guaranteed to make you look like something the cat ate. Continue reading