Crazy Crafty: Where the BEAUTY At?!!

Isn't it cute how beautiful people get to use Halloween as an excuse to play at being unattractive, charmingly dabbling in the seedy underbelly of the genetic lottery, casually day-tripping to the underworld of the grotesque in which the rest of us ugly mugs are forced to exist everyday?  In direct contrast, we are left to exploit the holiday for its democratizing properties, sprucing ourselves up just enough to timidly step out of the shadows, hoping that our efforts to improve will at least be met halfway by their sweet attempts to slum it.  Feeling fairly confident this Halloween, I was still taken aback when a friend actually remarked that I looked "handsome" in my costume.  So don't be at all surprised when I trade-in my signature specs for a turban!

Screen-captured PROOF!
Although I did such a stellar job at blurring things out, the possibility
remains that I might have left the comment on my own Facebook post.

Seriously, if it means wearing fifteen pounds of costume jewelry, donning a scant amount of eyebrow pencil, and fumbling around in a state of legal-blindness to make me look like a passable human being, I will just have to do it.  But exerting so much energy on my own appearance would leave me entirely unable to pursue other projects; such was the case when it came time to think about Mary's costume.  Usually, all of my creativity is focused on designing her costume, using whatever energy remains to throw something together for myself in the few days leading up to Halloween.  This year, however, I began with mine, completely burned out by the time I was done.  I used the distraction of a pumpkin patch to casually mention to Mary that she was on her own for a costume.  Just as I was explaining my utter lack of motivation, she bet on the winning piglet at the pig races.

In the form of a rubber pig nose, Mary won Halloween inspiration.
As soon as she donned her prize, we knew that when it came to this
year's costume, beauty would definitely be in the "Eye of the Beholder."  

While to me every episode of The Twilight Zone is essentially the same (anxiety inducing in its heavy-handed dramatic irony), even I am able remember a few standouts.  The star of TTZ's second season was entitled "Eye of the Beholder;" in it, a young woman recovers in a hospital room from a final surgical attempt to make her look "normal."  As the bandages are unwound, a lovely face emerges (not only free, in typical television fashion, from bruising/scars/stitches but also attractively made-up).  Strangely horrified by the results, she flees from the room as the "normal" faces of the hospital staff are revealed.

The beautiful people
Every day is "Opposite Day" when you're in The Twilight Zone.

On the basis that an early-'60s nurse's uniform could easily be pulled together from the contents of her closet, I committed to crafting a mask for Mary inspired by the characters in "Eye of the Beholder."  Starting from scratch was unrealistic, so I picked up a mask from the dollar store to use as a base.

Except for the ears, the feline face already had lines
reminiscent of old Florence Swine-tengale (above).

Trimming down a pig nose and sawing off a cat's ears was nearly enough to have me jump ship as a moderate carnivore and swim to the island of vegan delights - almost.  After the basic remodel, it was time to build up some of the broader contours of the face.

Tools of the trade

After removing the choice, tiger-print spandex from the mask, I built up a
topography of unadulterated ugly using paper straws, hot glue, and papier-
mâché.  To smooth things out and fill in the nooks and crannies, I employed
ordinary household spackle (also found at the dollar store).  My work was
finished with a couple coats of craft paint.

Mary took over by using things in her make-up bag to add some shading/depth/repulsion.  Falling decidedly in the "inspired-by" rather than "faithful-reproduction" category, in the end, I believe our mask was a success.

Proven by the impact of Mary's dramatically-lit, Halloween-night selfie

For all the work I usually put in, my favorite costumes are often the last-minute, homemade
jobs; Mary's wearing all her own clothes and the nurse's cap is just a folded piece of paper. 

Failing to take any pictures of the mask-building process or of our Halloween festivities, I wasn't sure that I had enough material to warrant a blog post.  My hesitation, however, was no match for the insistence of our pal, Kimmie, at That Girl the Wheelchair - and I quote, "I need a blog post about this.  Now."  Here you go, Kimmie; thanks for the kick in the pants!!!

"Eye of the Beholder" from The Twilight Zone (1960) 

I hope your Halloween was enjoyable and that it too left you pondering the meaning of beauty, reexamining the importance we place on it in our society.  I hope you understand that beauty truly is in the eye of the beholder.  I hope you remember that we are all capable of an internal beauty, a beauty that will shine through whatever genetic shortcomings we feel we may have.  Okay, not really.  More than anything, I hope you ate so many treats that your Reese's hangover was as bad as ours!


Cheers!

Mr. Tiny

Sew What?! WISHING that Halloween was "1,001 NIGHTS"

There has to be some kind of superstition that warns against revealing one's Halloween costume prior to October 31.  Somehow it feels like a bride parading around town in her wedding dress before the big day, especially to one who views Halloween as a marriage of everything wonderful - holidays, dress-up, ghost stories, and free candy!!!  Having broken many a mirror with only negligible consequences, I am willing to tempt the fates and show off this year's version of my tried-and-true Halloween pajamas (as is the case every year, my passion for Halloween is tempered only by my extreme distaste for even minor discomfort, i.e. ungainly costumes, elaborate makeup, full-face masks, gore, the inability to sit/stand/eat/use the facilities properly, etc.).  Any costume I wear must be able to do double duty as lounge/sleepwear.

Inspired by the vintage statuettes that take pride of place on the bookcase, the goal
for my costume was a character ripped straight from the pages of The Arabian Nights.

After seeing the rows of luscious pearls worn by a character on American 
Horror Story: Freak Show and subsequently adding them to the mix, the
resulting costume is probably a culturally-insensitive pastiche of maharaja,
sultan, genie, sheik, Gabor sister, and transvestite.  I'll go with genie.

Even dressed as a genie, the most important question I can ask myself when I'm trying on new clothes is, "Is this flattering or is this fattering?"  Swathed in at least ten yards of reflective, bargain-bin upholstery material, I think the answer is clear.

I blame the bird.
What's that old saying about removing at least one accessory before leaving the house?

But there was no way that I was going to ditch my greatest accessory by far.
For some reason, I was hell-bent on a stylized, avian companion.  I began creating the
scepter parrot before starting on any other part of my costume.  With undue confidence,
I just cut directly into my fabric (remnants from Mary's Christmas dress last year and
another dress yet to be shared) and hoped for the best - it actually worked!  The eyes
are made of buttons and rhinestones; the scepter is a brass ring with a finial made from
beads, buttons, and rhinestones, resting atop a length of gold-painted bamboo onto
which poor polly was rather unceremoniously skewered.

Managing to complete my costume a full three weeks before Halloween, I was left with ample time to follow the click-bait leading to at least two online articles dedicated to the prevention of offensive Halloween costumes.  Having received some concerned feedback on this forum about my choice of vintage-style "gypsy" costume last year, I sincerely hope that this year's costume (a well-intentioned, mythical genie) falls on the correct side of the costume-decency dividing line.  Honestly, I figured the most offensive part about it would be the fact that everyone encouraged me to go bare-chested!!!

Wearing the costume to the 91st-Annual Anaheim Halloween Parade, there was absolutely
no way I could subject the good people of Anaheim (home of Disneyland) to a nearly-nude
Mr. Tiny.  Instead of going topless, I opted for a "fleshtone" (although whose flesh, I know
not) shirt, removing the ribbed cuffs and collar and replacing them with gold braided trim.

I used the same trim to cobble together the remodeled rubber slippers I got
for $1.50 at everyone's favorite Japanese discount store, Daiso.  The curly
toes are finished off by dangling beads.

Fattering though it may be, the costume fulfills all of my comfort requirements as well as the usual budgetary concerns.  The only things I had to buy specifically for the costume were the slippers and the window-pane taffeta; everything else was unearthed from the bottomless pit of my fabric/craft stash (You may call me Prudence of Arabia).  Dare I say that my costume was nearly my "wish" come true?  Rather than a sophisticated, sometimes-sinister sultan, I think I more closely resemble Jeannie's junior-genie, Babu...

Intro from Hanna-Barbara's Jeannie cartoon

You only have a few days left; what are you going to be for Halloween?!!


Cheers!

Mr. Tiny

Crazy Crafty: Le Chat Noir

I'm seriously considering changing the name of this blog to "True Confessions" - mostly because I have spent the last two months cleaning out the family garage.  You read that correctly - the last two months!  After nine donations to the thrift store, ten oversized trash barrels filled, four truckloads hauled away by a scrap metal company, a large hazardous-waste removal (paint, car fluids, chemicals, etc.), three take-what-you-want days for family and friends, and two illegal visit to a commercial dumpster, the garage could still appear as the "before" reel on an episode of Hoarders (a necessary preamble so as to set the scene for one of the most frightening experiences of my life).  Warning: It's about to get all American Horror Story up in here.


Many years ago, around Halloween time, I was working on a term paper for an Ethics class.  As I am wont to do, I put off the paper until the last minute, foolishly believing that the time constraint would inspire genius.  Distracted by the many wonders of a ceiling fan, I lollygagged in our spare room (a room that happens to share a wall with the garage) waiting for inspiration to strike.  As the fan circulated the air, it also began circulating a faint-but-foul odor throughout the four walls of my paper-writing prison.  Recognizing the importance of gazing endlessly into the void of Microsoft Word, I decided that the odor would be another problem for another day.  The following day, the temperatures rose in direct correlation to the threat level of the odor.  But papers must be written!  I vainly hoped that somebody else in the house would notice the smell first, allowing me to coyly bat my eyes and innocently respond, "What smell?" when they inquired if I had also picked up on the scent (because, you know, ethics).  Unfortunately, I was to learn later that I was up against champion contestants in the I-Smell-Nothing Game.  By the third day, neither the term paper nor the the smell were improving.

Now unlike the garage, the spare room is rather tidy with very few places for a lingering odor to hide out.  So, after a cursory inspection of my surroundings, I plodded outside to the garage.  The roll-up door retracted only an inch before I knew that the call was coming from INSIDE THE GARAGE!!!  Faced by mountains of boxes, a piano, surfboards, Christmas decorations, guitar parts, thrift store treasures, power tools, garden gnomes, and long-forgotten furniture pieces, I knew that the better part of my afternoon would be dedicated to ferreting out the unholy odor.  It became a real game of cat-and-mouse as nose-blindness set in.  Gingerly shifting the contents of the garage, I grew increasingly panicky as I waded deeper into the abyss.  Next to a tumbled tote of my Halloween decor, I found a few realistic ravens, some plastic spiders, and one of those hissing, black cats with the glaring eyes and bared teeth.  It wasn't until I leaned over to return it to the bin with the rest of the decorations that I remembered I didn't have a Halloween Cat!  Neighbors gathered after they heard the scream.

The call to Animal Control went something like this:

"Hi, um, [sniff] we have a cat in our garage...but it's not our cat.  Actually, I'm allergic to cats so we couldn't have a cat even if we wanted one.  Oh yeah, [sniff, sniff] and this cat is dead.  But we didn't kill it.  It's just dead.  And my sister and her husband moved to Hawaii and left half their stuff, so the garage is really full, so the cat is kinda hidden and I'm afraid of cats because I'm allergic to them.  So do you guys come and get cats?  Because we don't want it.  And also, we're not hoarders [sniff]."

Convincing, no?

Inspired by the Halloween season and a desire to fill the serious feline void I discovered in our holiday decor, I set out to make a proper, odor-free, Halloween Cat with materials found only in my fabric stash.

Et voilà!  Le Chat Noir
I was forced to dress it in a jaunty, little Halloween outfit...just
so I could tell it from all the other dead cats in the garage.

I never think of myself as the type of person to sit around making precious little 

outfits for dolls but I guess Halloween is a time for many a cruel discovery.

The jacket is a few scraps of my favorite Marimekko print and the pants are made
of an autumnal-plaid remnant that will be featured in a forthcoming Sew What?! post.

Having used the faux fur for a few different projects, I didn't realize until the cat was near
completion that it was quite so shaggy.  At one point I could have continued making
the cat or gone all the way and made a replica of Eddie Munster's beloved Woof-Woof.
Instead, I held the course, choosing to give it a little haircut along the way.

The "eyes" have it!
The face went through many iterations; in the end, I decided that simple was best.
The crescent-shaped eyes are made of vintage buttons and vinyl.

I thought I was done, but looking over the cat, I decided that it needed a finishing touch - a hat.
Believe it or not, I just happened to have a miniature, coral-orange, conical hat in stock that I
trimmed with rickrack and a black pompom.

By the time I finished Le Chat Noir, I was reminded that as hard as I try, I will never be a "cat person."

The closest I might come would be this rather literal interpretation of "cat person."
As if I wasn't already questioning my decision to make a stuffed cat, I now realize it
could have been worse; I could be the crazy cat stuffed into the cat's pajamas!!!
(Source)

Epilogue:  Just in case you were wondering, the Animal Control technician assured us that the cat was elderly and had died of natural causes.  He explained that often times cats, aware that the end of their ninth life is drawing nigh, will seek out a comfortable place to expire.  I was placated by his attestations of our innocence...but not by the fact that the cat's "comfortable place" was the cushion of the vintage sofa given to me by my grandmother.  Undoubtedly you've heard of the remarkable images imprinted on the Shroud of Turin; well, imagine the shroud is threadbare upholstery and instead of the vestigial visage of Christ our Lord, the shadowed simulacrum of a former feline.  Yep, I am definitely not a cat person.

"The Great Cat Family" (1956)

Cheers!

Mr. Tiny

Sew What?! Sketching A Showgirl

I am of the completely-unqualified opinion that everyone has at least a little bit of OCD.  Whenever I become self-conscious of my own bizarre behavior, all I have to do is observe the "highly-questionable" conduct of others and silently express my gratitude for not being totally out of control like the lady I saw on TV who must perform every task on an even minute (e.g. 12:20 flush the toilet, 7:38 turn on the light, 9:44 lock the door, etc.), or my friend who counts his steps (ten steps to the front door, twenty-three to the car).  I am so forgetful that I am lucky to remember to lock the door, let alone count down to the appropriate tick of the clock, and so lazy that I max out around fifty steps before I call it a day.  I suppose we're all lucky that our own little exhibitions of compulsive behavior don't seem that weird to us.  One odd way in which my OCD manifests is in designing/creating a sewing project, especially when it is a Halloween costume!

Until I begin cutting and sewing, I will endlessly sketch pictures of the design concept.
Unable to focus on any other form or figure, I will obsessively draw and redraw the same (or
similar) image over and over and over again on almost any available surface - napkins, shopping
lists, envelopes, paper plates, bills; nothing is safe.

Like obsessively...
I think the only reason I sew (a practice I've always viewed as a necessary evil), is simply to get the
idea out of my head and into real life, finally allowing myself move on to the next great obsession.

Creative sewing can sometimes mean releasing conceptual control and allowing the materials to dictate the direction a project will take.  Burdened with yards and yards of a ruby red, swap-meet-quality fabric that we'll refer to as velveteen (more like flocked "velvette" or something akin to those weird moleskin-type, inflatable neck pillows used for flying), and a couple yards of floral, raspberry brocade, it was obvious that Mary's Halloween costume would have to be some kind of showgirl.  The saturated hues of the velveteen and floral brocade were crying out, "Make us a saloon girl!"  Not willing to abdicate total power, however, I thought about something a little less specific - western influenced maybe, but hopefully evoking a bit of Hollywood glamour as well.

After nearly a zillion rough drafts, this was the final design, very
much inspired by showgirl costumes of '40s cinema.

Sure, there have been far better and far more elaborate showgirl costumes but I was actually pretty proud of myself for this design - mostly because the only thing I had to purchase was the zipper and, unable to find anything suitable, I drafted my very own pattern.  Having absolutely no technical knowledge of legitimate pattern drafting, I used Mr. Tiny's tried and true hope-and-pray method.  I was even more proud of myself that, however far from perfect, I only had to make a couple of minor pattern adjustments before cutting into the fabric. 

Breaking out every bit of red fabric and and red trim I could find, I
learned that every value of red matches if one just uses them all.

The majority of the fully-lined, boned, strapless, one-piece garment was made of the velveteen, featuring the brocade at the center panel.  The princess seams were finished by a red gimp studded with red rhinestones.  The bust was adorned with two-layer bow and the seat was finished with a giant detachable bow and tails.  The choker was a remnant piece of velvet ribbon tied at the nape of the neck.    I even got ambitious and made a matching drawstring purse.  After having made them for at least two other "Sew What?!" projects, I still couldn't get past the water wing/arm floaties; I think they finish the costume in a far superior fashion to some corny, store-bought gloves.  With the body of the costume well under way, it was time for me to tackle the headpiece.

Always the dreamer, I had visions of a giant headdress with a towering arrangement of ostrich plumes.
Given my millinery budget of zero dollars and zero cents, I settled instead on the two random pheasant feathers from my stash; already red, if a little dark, I gave them the old rattle can once over.  Built upon a fabric-covered buckram frame, the hat's bottom layer is a gathered length of red, nylon netting.  The next layer is the raspberry brocade trimmed in pom poms, topped by the red velveteen adorned with red rhinestones, and followed by a final spray of red netting.  

Hoping to teach Mary some kind of responsibility (insert laughter - or maybe sad trombone - here), I put her in charge of stockings and shoes.  Let's just say that the day before Halloween I was driving her around town looking for nude fishnet stockings; on the day of Halloween, the Imelda Marcos of the Americas still hadn't figured out her shoe situation.  In what must have been her attempt to elicit an anxiety-induced coronary, she handed me a pair of the most random, lucite-heeled, yellowing, plastic mules I had ever seen.  I immediately reverted to my hope-and-pray method for an extreme shoe makeover.

The silver insole notwithstanding, these turned out better than I thought.
Honestly, I should have taken a before picture.

I covered the heel and the strap in velveteen, having the exact length
 of leftover gimp trim to finish the raw edges (how's that for a Halloween
 miracle?).  Never satisfied to leave well-enough alone, I of course made
bows to match! 

The funniest part about this design is that I'm normally not one to make costumes that might be deemed provocative.  In the best of circumstances, I am wholly confused by the parade of overly-sexualized costumery (as outlined yearly by our pal, Kimmie) that marches forth during the Halloween season.  The fact that this costume is rather bare didn't even occur to me until we were at our friends' unbelievably-awesome and atmospheric Halloween party where I caught a couple of creepers ogling Ol' Stretch.

Rather than "sexiness," the intention of this costume was about invoking the spirit of
Annette at The Golden Horseshoe and other similar cinematic showgirls; I think it worked!

Well, what do you think?  Was the obsessive sketching worth the effort?  What was your costume this year - tell the truth, was it sexy?  More importantly, did you Trick-or-Treat?

"Trick-or-Treat" (1952)

We hope that whatever you wore and whatever you did, your Halloween nightmares dreams all came true!  We're already excitedly planning for next year!  HAPPY HALLOWEEN!!!

Cheers!

Mr. Tiny

Sew What?! It's Just the Gypsy in My Soul

It has been well established that my Halloween costumes must be little more than glorified pajamas.  I wholeheartedly approve of entirely-over-the-top, full-scale, costume productions...for other people.  Mile-high hair, crazy make-up, props, functioning electronics, and masks that make sight a total impossibility, all melt my Halloween-loving heart.  But as someone who has made quite a habit of sitting comfortably, entering and exiting cars without major incident, walking at a brisk pace (sweating as a result), and seeing where I am going, I require something ridiculously simple, something elasticized, something in which I can hide my lumps, my bumps, AND all of the candy I sneak from the candy bowl.  These are the exact reasons I so love the forgiving Halloween costumes of the Art Deco era.

Not so much a costume as a dunce cap and a crepe-paper smock, one is
rarely able to discern exactly what the wearer intended to be.  But darn
him if he doesn't look festive!

I love that whatever the intention, the costume is usually fabricated in the classic Halloween color story of orange, black, and white.  I also love that from fairy princess to wizard to Juliet, practically everyone gets the Jack-O-Lantern treatment.

Finding inspiration in old patterns and illustrations from The Dennison's 
Bogie Book, and knowing that our Halloween plans include a perennially-
awesome, vintage Halloween party, I decided that this year I would be a gypsy.

Not having gone as a gypsy vagabond since the year my mom declared that the same costume I'd worn for the past two years (first as "pirate" and then as "artist") would work equally well as gypsy, I figured that this was my year to take back ownership of the costume.  This year I will be the Halloween gypsy I've always wanted to be - not the humiliating "pirartsy" that was so cruelly forced on me for three years in a row.

You see?  I'm clearly NOT a pirate.
(That's a gypsy earring)

That's right...no pirates here!

I'm almost positive that the pirate code strictly forbids trimmings
that are even slightly "pom pom" in nature and clearly the vest is
just dripping with those gypsy-esque danglers. 

Sticking with Halloween's tried-and-true colors, I made balloon-legged pants in black and a tassel-trimmed sash and head scarf in an orange-and-black stripe.  I had every intention of making my own gypsy tunic but realized how much easier it would be to customize an underutilized, white, dress shirt by hacking off the lower half of the sleeves and attaching gathered puff sleeves, but not without incident...

Sewing for the better part of two decades without injury, I always wondered
how those "I sewed through my finger" dummies managed to do it.  Well,
this costume taught me how.  Fortunately, my finger and hand remain intact
and the injury necessitated nary a pirate hook. 

As I was removing the shirt from beneath the presser foot, my own foot slipped, hitting the pedal and sending the needle right through my finger.  Reacting to my ouch response more quickly than I could understand what had happened, I immediately yanked my hand away.  In doing so, I broke the needle off into my finger - all in a day's work for a gypsy.

I convalesced by painting a non-pirate, gypsy-inspired pumpkin patch (get it?)
for the back of the vest, paying tribute to the costumes of yore and matching
my Crazy Crafty, Jack-O-Lantern, lantern staff.

What me, pirate?
Now that I'm fully recovered, I'm feeling quite fancy free and have a
desperate urge to wander.  Perhaps, it's just "The Gypsy in My Soul."

"The Gypsy in My Soul" - Perry Como

After much (gypsy) soul searching to the mellow crooning of Mr. Como, I suppose I am willing to concede that pirates are basically just scurvy-ridden water gypsies, so I guess my mom wasn't so far off-base...  

I hope you're ready for Halloween, because it is right around the corner!  What will you be on October 31?

Cheers!

Mr. Tiny

Crazy Crafty: You Don't Know JACK-O-Lantern!

As I age, I fear that I am regressing emotionally.  Holidays about food and family and wholesome activities become of less consequence to me as I yearn for the zany indulgence of Autumn's favorite gimme-gimme holiday.  In stark contrast to the traditional holidays, Halloween requires no heavy meals, no gift exchanges, and no forced marches to awkward family gatherings.  It is one night to live with abandon - dressing up, misbehaving, and bingeing on loads of candy without the typical, withering, do-you-really-think-you-need-that glances from those holier-than-thou grocery store cashiers.

As I consider the importance of Halloween in my life, I am forced to truly ponder what Halloween means to me.  As a Halloween romantic, I discovered that all of my love for the day stems more from my belief of what Halloween ought to be rather than what Halloween actually is.  Captured so beautifully by the images in the Dennison's Bogie Books, Halloween should be one big, spooky, Cole Porter musical with Jack-O-Lantern footlights and costumes reminiscent of Erté!

Scepter, wand, cane, crook, staff - a recurring element in many Deco-era
Halloween costumes was one kind or another of stick.  Impressed by the
pumpkin scepter of Little Bo Creep (center), I decided to see if I could
DIM, do it myself.

I started with a seven-foot-long bamboo pole and a twelve-inch, orange paper
lantern, both found at my favorite craft supply emporium - the dollar store!
With a budget totaling two dollars plus tax, this was a provident beginning!

I had the materials, now I just needed a face.  I took to the internet and reference books but was having difficulty deciding on a pumpkin face that I loved well enough to commit to dollar-store lantern.  This was to be a huge decision; once the paint was on, there would be no turning back!  I had considered adapting one of those leering faces found on vintage, German, papier-maché candy containers, but after flipping through one of my favorite Halloween resources, Halloween in America, I knew I had found my face!

I couldn't get beyond the lovable Jack-O-Lantern face of
this Dennison's crepe-paper Halloween apron, dated 1918.
(Source)

I embraced ( and thanks to my unsteady hands, perhaps even magnified)
the loose quality of the inspiration art.  It would be pretentious of this
seriously-untrained "artist" to label my work as "mixed media" when all
I did was sketch on the face with a #2 pencil and fill it in with whatever
I could find around the house, including paint (undiluted yellow
watercolor from a tube of unknown origin and nearly-expired, crusty,
black acrylic from high school art class) and a black sharpie.

With better light and less chance of overspray, I do all of my spray painting in the front yard; given the kind of wacky tacky crafting I am wont to do (see: Pickles the Pink Piggy Purse), I spend quite a bit of time painting in the front yard.  If my neighbors had a questionable opinion of me before, they must have serious concerns over my mental capacity after watching me play a one-man game of ring-around-the-rosie, applying several coats of glossy, black spray paint to a seven-foot pole stuck in the ground.

 

Even I had to question my sanity when I went into the wacky tacky
costume archives and couldn't find the cape I wanted...because there
were too many homemade capes in the way!!!

I tried riding a broom but it wouldn't hold me...

I may perform a few minor tweaks/additions before All Hallow's Eve but for a two-dollar investment, I think I did pretty well!

Lit from within by battery-operated lights that I had on-hand, it has sort
of an eerie, reverse Jack-O-Lantern effect...but I still like it.

Of course, after my craft was completed, my next trip to the dollar store
was met with row after row of battery-operated, jack-o-lantern style,
paper lanterns.  Nevertheless, I am happy with the chance to get into
the Halloween spirit with some custom Crazy Crafty!!!  

Yes, Mr. Tiny's Halloween threads will be built in stylistic conjunction with his Jack-O-Lantern walking stick, but you'll just have to wait until the day draws nearer before the entire costume is revealed.  How about you?  Are you gearing up for the Halloween season?  Are you feeling crafty?  Do you have a great idea for your costume?  Whatever you decide to be this October 31, remember that it's Halloween...

LET'S MISBEHAVE!!!

"Let's Misbehave" as performed by Irving Aaronson

Written by Cole Porter

Cheers!

Mr. Tiny

Million Monster March: The Anaheim Halloween Parade

Although it hasn't yet been made official, I'm pretty sure that we are honorary citizens of Anaheim, CA.  We are probably over thinking it, but out of sheer good taste and unqualified breeding, we're just waiting for the mayor's announcement that both a street and a day will be dedicated to Tiny & Mary before we send out the invitations to the ribbon cutting ceremony.

"Where's our key to the city, huh?!"

This could take a while...
(photo courtesy of Star Class Media)

We spend so much time with our Anaheim-resident friends that sometimes it feels like we live there - especially when it comes to Anaheim's big day to shine - The Anaheim Halloween Parade! 

Andy Anaheim, a character created nearly 60 years ago by
Disney artists, stepped off the parade with his rotating head,
functioning arms, and booming bass drum.

For months and months, our pals over at the Anaheim Historical Society have been planning, designing, and preparing for this year's parade.  While the parade has always been a rallying opportunity for the community and a real source of hometown charm, the recent past has seen the it dwindle into a cavalcade of local politicians and obscure beauty queens.  Great - and very successful - pains were taken this year to restore some of the thematic elements that make it the Anaheim Halloween Parade.

Just a sampling of the projects as they progressed
at the official parade headquarters.

If nothing else, I have a modicum of rhythm.  Obviously, marching in a parade would come so very much like a second nature to someone so rhythmically-blessed as myself, that I could easily miss the parade meetings and just jump right in at the last minute, right?  Right?!?!

It begins at sundown.

I quickly learned that marching in a parade is more than soliciting high-fives from the crowd; it is an art form!
There's definitely a trick to walking, waving, and wearing a mask (sans glasses) all at the same time!
(photo courtesy of Star Class Media)

We were in the old-timey section of the parade.
The positioning worked out perfectly as we were able to recycle last year's
costumes (after returning from Japan, time, energy, and funds were low).

This cat costume, worn by our pal, Norma,
was a hit with us and with the crowd!

The two-part, man-powered Haunted House had a wooden frame but the
rest of the structure was  - believe it or not - cardboard!
The artists behind these pieces are incredible.

Speaking of cardboard, this is another cardboard sculpture.
Reminiscent of the trees from The Forest of No Return in Babes in Toyland,
the amount of depth and texture achieved in this piece is mind blowing!
Once all of the lantern foliage was lit, it was spectacular!

Shriners rule the world!
The minicars and calliope/organ wagon are always a highlight!

I had a very, very small hand in bringing the
"Heebie Jeebie" to life, so small in fact, that
I shouldn't even mention it.  But I am nothing
if not one to take credit where credit isn't due!

The Jungle Cruise/Tiki contingent of the parade was
 among my favorite entries!  Dig that crazy mask!

There was so much more to the parade, but because I skipped, tripped, waddled marched this year, I depended on the kindness of friends for many of these photos.  If you are anywhere in the area, you are more than welcome to contribute and participate in next year's Anaheim Halloween Parade.  

Join the fun!!!
(photo courtesy of Star Class Media)

2014 will mark the parade's 90th year and it is sure to be a spectacle of unprecedented proportions; contact the Anaheim Halloween Parade website for more information.  For additional information on the history and redevelopment of Anaheim please visit the Anaheim Historical Society.  Preparations for next year's parade begin in January 2014.  Happy Halloween!

Cheers!

Mr. Tiny