Last-Minute Costumes
Seven easy Halloween costumes from your own closet, borrowed from women who were weird first. Patti Smith, Lydia Deetz, Siouxsie, Joan Jett and more.
We have a confession that may get us kicked out of the goth union. We don't love costumes.
We love Halloween. We love the leaves, the dread, the excuse to eat candy corn without having to defend ourselves. But the moment someone says "costume party," something in us goes limp. We don't want to be a sexy anything. We don't want to spend $60 on a polyester bag with a cartoon on it. We don't want to explain what we are fourteen times while holding a drink.
Here's what took us way too long to figure out. People who hate costumes usually don't hate dressing up. We hate dressing up as somebody else. The fix is to dress up as a slightly louder version of yourself, borrowed from someone who already did it better.
Every look below comes mostly out of a closet you probably already own. Each one is a reference. Half the room won't get it. The other half will cross the room to tell you they get it. Those are your people. That's the whole point.
Seven Women Who Were Weird First
Patti Smith, Horses Era
You need: a crisp white button-up, a skinny black ribbon or undone tie draped around the collar, black trousers, a black jacket slung over one shoulder, hair that has seen things.
The cover of Horses from 1975 is one of the most copied photographs in rock. Robert Mapplethorpe shot it in natural light in a friend's apartment, and Patti looks like she's daring you to take it. Hook the jacket on one finger. Do not smile. If someone asks who you are, tell them to go listen to the first track on side one, and walk away.
Margot Tenenbaum
You need: a striped polo dress, a fur or faux fur coat, a single red barrette, an unreasonable amount of black eyeliner, loafers.
The great thing about Margot is that she's not wearing a costume. She's wearing a mood. Clipping one barrette into your hair takes four seconds, and anyone raised on Wes Anderson will recognize you from across a dark room. Bonus points for pretending to smoke a breadstick with total disdain.
Lydia Deetz
You need: everything black, a wide-brimmed hat or a spiky fringe, a camera around your neck, an expression like you've just been told about the school dance.
"I myself am strange and unusual" might be the most honest line in any movie ever made. Lydia is the patron saint of every girl who was told to cheer up. You probably already own this outfit. You may be wearing it right now.
Siouxsie Sioux, 1980
You need: black mesh or a fishnet top, a black skirt or trousers, teased black hair, and the eyeliner. Oh, the eyeliner. Wings out to your temples, like you're trying to escape your own face.
Siouxsie basically drew the blueprint for goth makeup, and she did it while the music press was still trying to figure out what to call her. This one is about 80% makeup, so give yourself 30 minutes in front of a mirror and a good playlist.
Teasing hair for any post-punk look works best on day-two hair. Spray a little dry shampoo at the roots, backcomb in small sections, then smooth only the very top layer. Hairspray is not optional. Hairspray is structural.
Stevie Nicks, Witch Edition
You need: a flowy black dress, every shawl you own, platform boots, a lot of rings, a tambourine if you can find one.
Stevie spent decades swatting away rumors that she was a witch, and somehow every denial made it more believable. This is the easiest costume on the list and the most comfortable. You will twirl. You won't be able to help it.
The Final Girl
You need: a white tank top or a sweater with a collar, jeans, sneakers, a flashlight, and one perfect smear of fake blood across the cheek.
The Final Girl is a horror trope, coined by film scholar Carol Clover in the late 80s for the one character smart enough to survive the slasher movie. She's resourceful. She notices things. She doesn't go into the basement alone, except when she does, and she wins anyway. It's the costume of a woman who was underestimated all night and walked out at dawn. Very wearable. Very relatable.
Joan Jett
You need: a black leather jacket, a black tank, a black shag, a red guitar strap slung over your shoulder (guitar optional), and a sneer you can sustain for four hours.
Joan Jett was turned down by 23 record labels before she co-founded her own, Blackheart Records, so she could put out her music herself. That's the energy. Wear black, refuse to be told no, and play air guitar to every song, even the slow ones.
Your Own Patron Saint
Here's the real move for the costume-averse: wear your favorite outfit, add one absurd accessory, and when people ask what you are, say "myself, but more." A pair of sunglasses shaped like hearts. Earrings that look like tiny bats. Socks covered in eyeballs. A tote pinned with buttons that tell your whole biography to anyone who reads them.
It's not lazy. It's a thesis.
The Real Reason This Works
Costumes are supposed to let you be someone else for a night. But we think the best ones let you be the version of yourself you usually keep in a drawer. Louder. Stranger. Less worried about who gets the reference.
So skip the bag with the cartoon on it. Raid your closet. Steal a little from the women who were weird first. And when the right person grins at you from across the party, you'll know.
One Absurd Accessory
The fastest costume on earth. Add one to whatever you're already wearing.
