Pound Sign

New York City, pop culture, art and nightlife. Because nobody else is blogging about those things.

Friday, October 26, 2007

One year I had the C3P0, and then I was Indiana Jones three years in a row.

Kids today (and adult women who want to dress as sexy cats, nurses and...Starbucks baristas? really?), are completely spoiled with their rows and rows of quality costumes at Ricky's and Halloween Adventure. When WE were kids, ready-made costumes meant one thing: a garish vinyl sleeve that slipped over your head, and a flimsy, razor-edged plastic mask with huge eyeholes and a string to hold it on your face. (Just talking to my officemate Maureen about this, she said "I can smell those masks right now!") Come with me back to those days of yesteryear by hitting this must-click link: the worst Halloween costumes ever!


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