COLUMN: Don’t mind the mess – A princess in disguise

It’s Oct. 31, 1970-something. Usually, it’s almost impossible for my mom to wake me for school, but this morning, I leap from my bed the second she calls my name.

I can already smell the oatmeal cooking as I eagerly dress up for the day, but this is not just any regular day – oh no!

This is Halloween, and a full-scale celebration awaits me at school.

Back then, we could dress up in pretty much any costume we chose. There was no such thing as politically correct.

Of course, there were the usual vampires, zombies and witches. My mom forbade those, not because of any religious leanings; she disliked them simply because to her, they were ugly.

She wanted me to look sweet, so of course, the choice was a princess costume, purchased for a few bucks at the local Macleod’s store.

This store was an older version of the modern-day Walmart, featuring everything from dry goods and canned goods, to children’s clothes and building supplies.

My princess outfit was hilarious when I look back. It included a plastic face mask, held on by a thin elastic string you could conceal under your hair, thereby fooling the onlooker into thinking the frozen expression with the cut-out holes for eyes and mouth, the painted hair and pointy tiara was in fact the real you! You were really a princess, just paying a casual visit to a small prairie town.

The thin plastic dress that came with it was basically a sleeveless apron, tied in the back.

Now you would think the creators of this get-up would have at least attempted to make it look like an actual fancy flowing gown. Like the makers of the Six Million Dollar Man – they had the technology!

But instead, it featured a huge picture of the princess I was pretending to be, with the word “princess” printed right on the front. Ugh. But to me, it was awesome. We didn’t over-analyze everything then. We accepted it all at face value.

When I got to school, there were several other clone princesses milling around the classroom, along with the usual vampires, zombies and witches. Some of the parents went all out with make-up, and I remember feeling a tad uneasy. So babe-in-the-woods innocent, but I think most of us were in those days.

Our games that day were far from hygienic. Bobbing for apples in a tub of water, with our hands behind our back. For those not familiar with this, it meant trying to catch an apple in your teeth. Most of them already had bite marks from the dozens of failed attempts. Germs weren’t really a thing, I guess.

Her royal highness spent the night trick-or-treating with her siblings. When we were little, my brother drove us into town, stopping at the end of each street, waiting in the warm car with the radio blaring, as we ran from door to door. We used pillowcases instead of fancy bags. Time meant nothing. We didn’t give up until that thing was too heavy to carry. The feast when we returned was every dentist’s nightmare – or dream, depending on how you look at it.

Upset stomach aside, it was just a great day. Princess costume lying in a crumpled heap on the floor, beside my half empty pillowcase, I drifted off to sleep, praying I wouldn’t dream about vampires, zombies and witches.