Hiding Behind the Costume

The earliest Halloween costume I recall wearing was that of Snow White. I remember it clearly because it was the first store-bought costume my mom allowed me to have.

We grew up, as many kids do, with very little. Most of my clothes were made by my mother who was a gifted seamstress. I was in high school before I even owned a pair of jeans. There was certainly no money for Halloween costumes. Ours were homemade. They usually consisted of wearing mom or dad’s old clothes, painted cardboard boxes, or other household items. This forced us kids to get creative if we really wanted to win the school’s costume contest.

Things totally changed the year my little brain was exposed to TV advertisements & boxes of costumes stacked up in Kmart. The options were endless and played into this little girl’s hopes that make-believe could become reality. I was mesmerized!

One costume in particular caught my eye. I was going to be Snow White!

The idea of becoming someone so recognizable with beauty beyond compare (in the eyes of a 10 year old) was appealing on a whole other level.

Looking back, all that glitters was not gold.

It was cheap nylon fabric that barely lasted throughout the school day (and would be labeled later as a fire hazard). The mask was thin plastic, held on by even thinner elastic. Teachers were armed with hole punches, cellophane tape, and safety pins to hold a child together. And, while the end-of-the-day costume parades were fun, they were usually filled with tears from children whose masks didn’t last past lunch.

Regardless, I loved being Snow White! Other than the fact I couldn’t see out the eye holes and the mask made me sweat; I felt magical… special!

Would it ever be worn again? No.

Did I win the 5th grade costume contest? No. And, neither did the other 18 Snow Whites from Sears.

But, it was fun to be someone different for the day.

Thinking about that costume some 40 years later causes me to reflect on other costumes, masks, personalities, and people I opted to be for past Halloweens:

• Hobo
• Witch
• Old Lady
• Mother Nature (see photo above)
• Nerd
• 80s high schooler
• Gothic vampire homecoming queen (don’t ask, I don’t have answers)

And then I wonder, “why?” Why give up my identity for even a day?

The answers have changed throughout the years. They continue to develop as I gain understanding of who I am in Christ:

• In grade school, it was fun to try out a personality or trait of someone or something different.
• Even though I wanted to stand out and win best costume, I also wanted to be part of the group – everyone was wearing a mask.
• One can act differently when costumed. You certainly get away with things that normally would be inappropriate. For example: I wouldn’t ordinarily cackle during math class, or wear fishnet stockings and hooker heels to work.
• One’s flaws can be masked. Literally. Makeup is taken to a whole new level transforming a person into someone or something completely different. There are some very talented artists out there who create amazing illusions with theater makeup and body paint.
• Depending upon the character chosen, one does not need to speak. Consider the mime, a clown, Mary Pickford or Charlie Chaplin. For an introvert, these are great options.
• If the invitation is a masquerade, anonymity holds intrigue and suspense.
• And for others, a costume allows their inner ‘bad’ to come out – Freddy Kruger, Satan, or Bryan Cranston.

In reality though, the worst costume is the mask we never remove.

It is chosen over time. It morphs and distorts as we develop. This mask responds and form-fits to our woundedness, our pain, the lies we believe about ourselves, the false judgements we place on others, and the inner vows we make which flow from those initial wounds.

Consider that 10 year old Snow White who, in her young, pliable mind and with the prodding of classmates, interiorly becomes the old hag. The 5th grader is wounded by nasty comments about her weight and appearance. She internalizes and twists the reality of who she is – the daughter of The King – into someone unlovable, unwanted, unworthy of friends, and unnecessary in a world filled with Snow Whites (who, unbeknownst to her, are all dealing with their own wounds).

It took me 30+ years to remove the mask; another 10 to understand why I kept the costume.

There are moments when I’m tempted to add another layer of tape, replace the elastic, and pin the nylon dress back together. And, then I remember that whatever God the Father creates is majestic and priceless… far beyond anything that is mass produced in China and sold by Sears or Kmart.

This princess, The King’s daughter, doesn’t need a plastic trophy to know that she is precious, beautiful, worthy of love. She prays that all Snow Whites will come to know this same truth.

Pray for me as I pray for you!
_{[This post is dedicated to my dear friend, Marielle Lafaro, who suggested the topic of “costume'” and who has never needed a mask.💗]}