Photo: Dominic Episcopo Every year, around the end of September, people start asking each
other: "What are you gonna be for Halloween." An inquiry as innocent and banal as "What's the weather gonna be like today?" But for me, the question is the scariest part of Halloween. It
stirs up panic, and then I forget about it until Oct. 30 when
I craft a crappy costume at the last minute. When I was 12, I slapped on some Noxzema, pulled my hair back
in a ponytail and went as Mariel Hemingway (the onetime Noxzema
spokesmodel). A few years ago I wore all my sparkly clothing,
wrapped myself in extension cords and went as a Bride of Funkenstein.
I've done the white-sheet-with-two-holes thing three times. But some people really get off on the costume thing. As Elva Ramirez points out in Wish List, some use costumes as
a way to expose their fantasy identities. Some, like our cover
boys Wastoid, use costumes on a more regular basis, to create
an image - in their case, the grand era of early metal. But if you're vexed by what to wear, or who to be on Halloween,
listen to this tale of someone whose annual costume is seriously
no frills, no mess. Well, maybe no frills. About two years ago, I started going to a masseur on Sansom Street
(bear with me here), a 5 foot tall, moustached guy who only charged
me $20 each time I went for a rub down. I thought the price was
a little weird considering most masseurs charge $60 for an hour.
Still, I was stressed out of my mind and paying off a gigantic
Visa bill, so I didn't question the cheap rub. He'd work out my stiff shoulders with some Ben Gay-smelly ointment
and say, squeakily, "What are you? A CPA?" He made the same joke every time. And I chuckled, obligingly,
every time. We'd have the kind of conversations I'd have with my hairdresser,
only I was nude. Although I was squeamish at first, I grew to feel comfortable
in front of him. Until one day. One Oct. 30, in a anxiety-ridden day-before-all-hallows session
(no costume and no ideas), I popped the question: "So, what are
you gonna wear for Halloween?" He paused. "Nothing," he replied. "No really, what are you gonna wear?" "Nothing," he repeated, rubbing my CPA neck. "You're not going as anything?" "No, I'm not wearing anything." It took a few minutes to sink in. "Uh, you won't have any clothes on?" "Yup. No clothes." He smiled broadly. "Is this something you do regularly, like not on Halloween?" "Why yes it is... I'm a..." "Don't say it." "I'm a nudist." Turned out, Mr. Massage was a member of what he called a "sky
clad" group which met in some remote location in the suburbs every
Halloween to frolic in nature, build bonfires, roast some Hallo-weenies,
and let their Hallo-weenies dangle. My 40-year-old masseur still lives at home with his parents so
I asked if they knew about his clothes-free world. "I think they know I'm a little different - they've seen the stuff
in my room." I wondered what kind of stuff a nudist would have. "I'm also a witch." Oh lordy. I envisioned a room with candles, voodoo dolls, my masseur
naked over a big cauldron. His poor parents. "Wouldn't you be a warlock?" "Nope. A witch." A nudist witch. I was being massaged by a nudist witch. That ointment
he was rubbing me with probably had eye of newt in it. Still, as a part-time witch, the guy was living the Halloween
dream, and he'd perhaps come up with the ultimate, stress-free
costume. But my stress levels were building as he told me there was more
to this party than naked butt meets the eye. Following the ritual,
he said, things get a bit "lusty" for those who want to get "lusty."
I hope naked witches use condoms on their halloweenies. My $20 had bought me more than I had bargained for. That was the last time I saw my masseur, but I called him the
other day to find out where the party was this year. No, uh-huh, I wouldn't be attending. The private group will be partying somewhere in Kennett Square,
amongst the mushrooms. "We have to get a permit to do it, " he said. "People get kinda
freaky." And as always, a costume is optional. Hmm... maybe I'll just be a ghost again.
Costume Party