Halloween is my very favorite holiday. I love dressing up and decorating and trick or treaters. I love haunted houses and scary movies. I love pumpkins and fall and seeing kids jazzed about being whatever they want to be for the night. I’ve always taken pride in my Halloween costume ideas, and have often taken them way too seriously. In October of 2004 my little brother and I were in 2nd and 4th grade and we knew exactly who we wanted to be for Halloween. President Bush and President Elect John Kerry. As a bizarrely political 10 year old, I had already broken family ties and declared myself an avid Democrat. I informed my younger brother that I would be John Kerry because he was taller than President Bush so it made the most sense for me to portray the Senator from Massachusetts while he would be the cowboy-boot wearing Texan/President. Although I did favor the left side of life, my true intention was a completely holiday based scheme. I would get the most candy. We were trick or treating in downtown Salt Lake City, Marmalade District. A magical land full of liberal intellectuals and happy homosexuals (don’t think as a 10 year old I didn’t know who they were and who they would be voting for.) And boy was I right! Had my Halloween candy bag been any indicator of who was going to win the election, Kerry had it by a landslide! Each house we would go to would see our costumes, ask if our parents put us up to it, we’d respond enthusiastically that it was our idea, and I’d shout out, “Because I wanted to be John Kerry!” then they’d give me an extra candy, or two or three. My bag was too heavy to hold by the end of the night and I glowed with politically apt satisfaction. Until I went home and saw my brother’s lighter bag. It was then that the true socialist within me shined and I evenly distributed my extra candy with my little brother.
It was that same desire to bring together cultures through holiday fun that lead me to my Halloween costume choice this year. Initially, I figured some typical current costume choices would suffice. With supplies limited to what I could find in my closet and on my couch, I grabbed a yellow rain coat, two IKEA pillow cases and came up with these…
Although Christian being Jon Snow makes about 80% of my dreams come true and even though back home everyone and their dog and their baby is a Minion, I felt like sticking my husband's arms in pillow cases and tying my jacket too tight might not be enough for Iceland. Halloween has never been a part of Icelandic culture. Over the last five or so years, they’ve acknowledged the existences of Halloween and tried to nurture the idea onto the island. Occasionally there will be a vampire on a candy bar in a back isle of the grocery store and it’s even possible to see a child in a costume but it’s either Anna or Elsa and it’s not for Halloween, Iceland is just still really into the Nordic princess situation. This lack of interest in All Hallows Eve left me distraught, and determined. I had to find a better way to make Iceland understand what Halloween is all about. I racked my brain to think of something that thrived in Icelandic culture that I could turn into couture. What I ended up with was golf.
Iceland has the highest number of golf courses per capita. In the world. The small country has 66 golf courses which equates to 1 golf course per 4,825 people. And the locals are using them. You know that midnight sun we have over here? Apparently it’s just so they can get in more tee time. There are several websites dedicated solely to midnight sun golfing. midatalatic.icelandair.com puts midnight golfing right beside swimming in blizzards under Icelandic leisure and sports. Golfing comes up in casual chat and competitive conversations. Golfing, I decided, is the way to an Icelandic heart. And an Icelandic Halloween.
It was the perfect plan. I would dress up as a golf ball and all the Icelanders would love it and love me and love Halloween! The plan was foolproof. The first step was where I got creative. I’ve spent the last month “creatively” coming up with ways to celebrate Halloween without anywhere to buy real decorations for the holiday, or even a Walmart for that matter. Our bathroom sports the traditional halloween orange and black of the holiday as we have far more black clothes than the average witch hunter and our laundry cord is the kind of neon orange that is the only shade in the 50% off bucket at the mall. The very same shade of orange that’s marked up in The States from September 1st-Oct 31st because we know celebrating means consumers will spend more money to be festive. Our white laundry draped across the radiator makes for excellent ghosts. The common laundry room has that whole House at the End of the Street/Blaire Witch Project vibe that’s all the funs on Halloween. It’s the kind of room that makes you sneak around the corner waiting to see whose’s standing still facing the wall waiting to demon-creep you while you grab your colors. It’s festive.
By Oct. 15th exactly one store was selling exactly 3 Halloween decorations. I bought all three. Unsatisfied with the small hanging spider, pumpkin, and AA-battery jack-o-lantern lights, I vamped things up with a large skeleton made entirely out of travel magazines left here by tourists.
Finding a satisfying amount of success with those limited supplies, and with the added bonus of being married to the Industrial Designer who made a BB-8 droid in a day, I got the naïve idea that we could create an incredible golf ball costume in one night made entirely out of things we had at home. In case you were wondering, extreme naïveté combined with blind determination will successfully make a golf ball head out of nothing but tape and the white plastic cups you found in the back of your sink. And you can have it all in as little as 4 hours.
I was ecstatic that my golf ball costume was finished. That, coupled with intense sleep deprivation (we stayed up until 4am to make the freaking thing) gave me a confidence that got me out the door today in an overcoat, heels, and a giant golf ball head to show Iceland how Halloween is done.
Golf Ball Girl strutting her stuff down the street thanks to a clever costume and complete anonymity.
Initially I wanted to do a few things just for me. With my surprisingly supportive husband by my side (he’s had to deal with me being choked up without Halloween for weeks now) we headed to Reykjavik’s cemetery. Because that’s the Halloween I know and love. When you think “cemetery,” you have actually always thought of the Reykjavik cemetery without even realizing it. It has old weathered headstones with skulls and cross bones, covered in moss and mushrooms and un-raked fall leaves. The gravesides are protected by overgrown, overhanging trees and a black wrought iron fence that looks like it came straight out of a “How To” guide for making spooky fences. The cemetery is always quiet and cool, but it does not always have a girl walking around dressed as a golf ball. I figured the ancestors who made golf happen here would appreciate the gesture.
Perfect spooky fence. Giant golf ball head.
After spending some time enjoying the setting cemetery sun I knew we needed to treat the day for what it really was, a normal day just like every other. We had errands to run and a walk for fun and I figured that the best way to let locals know about Halloween was to be where the locals were on Halloween. They’d see my golf ball head walking down the street and getting groceries and they’d realize they forgot to put on their costumes! Then they’d realize how silly it is to be out doing errands on the best holiday ever! They’d go home, tell their families about how there was a girl in a golf ball costume and that they love golf and they could do it too! And then they’d have a surprise Halloween party! Halloween golf ball costumes for everyone! That was my intention. It did not play out as I had planned.
I shared my holiday spirit while shopping…
Went to iconic locations to find locals and talk about golf…
I waited in unnecessary lines while quietly humming “The Monster Mash”…
I even showed everyone how fun Halloween is at the grocery store…
Eventually I got hungry. Focused on keeping the magic alive and not removing my golf ball mask we went to grab a snack at the only place I could eat…
Unfortunately, no matter where I went or how many people stopped to compliment the creative look, no one mentioned the clever connection to famous Icelandic golfing, which meant not a single local was feeling my intended Icelandic Halloween spirit at all! It was the tourists who taught me why.
Next week is Iceland Airwaves. It’s a huge event where musicians from around the world will be performing in a globally known music festival here in Reykjavik. Many Icelanders come, and tourists from all over. It was these music-loving tourists who stopped me on the street. Again and again. Asking for my photograph.
…Because they all thought I was Bjork. Or at least, dressed up as her. Having created a Halloween costume hoping to best connect with Icelandic culture I had inadvertently dressed up as the most iconic Icelander in the world. But really I was just a golf ball.
Happy Halloween one and all! Here's the last shot from the cemetery of me and the ghostly orb who wanted in on the fun.
