I never celebrated Halloween as a child. My parents insisted it was a pagan holiday and, thanks to Purim, I never felt like I was missing out. Also, I probably got more sweets than the kids who went trick-or-treating thanks to my mother’s strategic over-buying when it came to candy. I dressed up for Halloween for the very first time last year. I was invited to a Halloween party and told that costumes were mandatory. Well, being the strict grammarian that I am, everyone naturally expected me to come as something grammatical. (This is despite the fact that I dress as a “Star Trek” character for nearly every Purim.) Never one to disappoint, I, along with my friends Savannah and Nathan, dressed as the split infinitive “to incorrectly split.” We were each one of the words, and I had a blast—a nerdy blast—but a great time nonetheless.

Yael Katzwer, Managing Editor

Halloween in Ohio can get tricky. The weather changes constantly and you never know until the day before what costume will be appropriate. While trick-or-treating, leaving the house in a t-shirt and shorts is no guarantee you won’t need a winter coat by the end of those two candy-filled hours. One year, my Jasmine costume was ruined by a black turtleneck cute shirt my seven-year-old self was so excited about.

It wasn’t until I got to Brandeis and celebrated my first Halloween that I realized that the innovation I’d garnered was helpful when I had to create costumes that could be worn to Brandeis Halloween parties—on the cold walk there, and in the sweaty party itself. As everyone tottered around in stilettos and skimpy skirts, complaining about the cold, I added a thick black sweater to my red leotard and shiny green leggings. I was warm and cozy on several walks back and forth on campus, and upon arriving at numerous destinations, announced to anyone who would listen that of course I wanted to keep the sweater with me instead of stashing it in a corner—didn’t they remember Robin having a cape?

Leah Finkelman, Features Editor

Everyone knows that the most difficult part of Halloween is deciding how to dress. For me, it’s about being able to express my creative side. Not liking to spend a lot of money on costumes that I will realistically wear once, I’m one of those people who digs through my closet every year trying to find clothes to work into my costume ideas. For example, one year my friend and I were “thunder” and “lighting.” It’s as simple as wearing black clothes, and cutting out a cloud and lightning bolt from poster board.

My favorite, however, has to be the year I went as a “work of art.” I worked a colorful, spray paint-patterned shirt with a cardboard cut out frame tied around my neck with string so it hung down over the shirt. Needless to say, I like to think my costume was like any work of art should be—one of a kind.

Ingrid Schulte, Photo Editor

There was only one Halloween when my father came trick-or-treating with us and so my entire family dressed up in a sort of group-costume. We were all disguised as wizards, either from “Harry Potter” or “The Lord of the Rings.” To make things even more of a personal, family event, we made all of our costumes ourselves. We had beards made of cotton, colored with dye; we all helped Mum sew our own capes, robes and even “cloth shoes.” Sticks, jewelry and face-paint did the rest. I do not think my dad ever came with us again (Mum always did) but I may not blame him—he looked pretty ridiculous in the Voldemort costume.

Nathan Koskella, News Editor

Last year for Halloween I was Barney Stinson from “How I Met Your Mother.” Translation: I rocked a nice tailored suit and maintained a constant beverage in my hand. My then-girlfriend took me to Boston College to celebrate with her cousin. As we party-hopped from one heavily Catholic, crowded dorm to another, I quickly learned that BC parties were heavily centered on certain group beverage activities. Being the only Brandeisian in the house, I mastered their craft and beat them in all their own popular passtimes. That Halloween was memorable because I felt that I was a good ambassador for my school.

Nafiz “Fizz” Ahmed, Photo Editor

I live in a very family-friendly area. My town is comprised almost entirely of neighborhoods filled with young families and their children. This means a few things: good school districts, lots of babysitting jobs and—when the season comes—Halloween pay-dirt. When I was little, I used to collect so much candy that it wouldn’t fit in the standard jack-o-lantern candy basket or any of the other receptacles that are sold especially for this purpose. The logical response to this, and the one that most of my neighbors employed, was to use a pillow case as a trick-or-treat bag. As a woman who has always committed fully to her costume, however, I never accepted this solution (what kind of self-respecting cowgirl carries a pillow case?!). So, I forced my father to carry the pillowcase for me, while I pranced around with my decorative basket. I would empty it into his bag, when it filled up or, more realistically, when it got too heavy.

Morgan Gross, Impressions Editor