My Dearest Pumpkin-Spiced Ghouls and Goblins,
October has arrived, and if you haven’t strung some fake cobwebs or strategically placed a few pumpkins, you’re already living in a haunted house—because your soul has clearly died. Don’t you get it, my little zombie? Halloween is practically Christmas for people who can decorate with more than three throw pillows. You know who you are—my gay, curious, and artistically inclined straight lovelies.
Get your cobwebbed act together and show off your big, shiny pumpkins. Take your vision—please tell me you have one—of a “haunted hovel” and elevate it to a “hauntingly chic manor.”
Follow my definitive guide to decorating for Halloween, because lawn inflatables are an abomination (and I don’t mean in a good Addams Family way); plastic skeletons are fake, and your porch is screaming “Spirit of Halloween clearance aisle.”
Step 1: The Dramatic Entrance
Your front door is your runway, darling. If you’re still hanging a “Trick or Treat” sign you bought in 2001, shave your head, light candles in a circle, and sacrifice your Costco chicken to the pagan gods of Samhain. Instead, go for dramatic flair. Invest in a black-feather wreath reminiscent of a Victorian widow’s hat, complete with a bloody hatpin. Bonus points if the feathers shed when guests arrive—giving off Hitchcock’s The Birds vibes.
Step 2: Out of Your Gourd
No Halloween display is complete without pumpkins, but walk away from those generic grocery-store orange orbs. This is not the year for orange anything—except traffic cones, safety vests, and demented dictators. Shop for heirloom pumpkins in a palette of white, gray, and pale green. Or be outrageous and cover them in glitter. Nothing says, “Martha Stewart, eat your heart out,” like an autumnal disco jack-o’-lantern.
Step 3: Lighting Is Everything
Just like Babs needs her key light, so does your house. Make sure you’re shading and contouring the spooky tableau you’ve created. Don’t even think of strobe lights or purple floodlights from Party City. Think horror-movie atmosphere, not low-budget nightclub. Warm lighting is appropriate—a hint of amber. An eerie candlelight effect is dramatic—think Liberace after dark.
If you’re considering any projection, it’s got to be tasteful—a subtle, slow-moving shadow creeping across the house, perhaps. Don’t light your home with dancing witches or ghostly figures waving from the rooftop. This is Halloween, not a Las Vegas residency. With artistically placed lighting, you can turn your Bates Motel into Dragula’s Castle.
Step 4: Graveyard Drama
Go for authenticity. Plastic can suffice, but it’s all about graveyard realness. Make plans in early September and visit a teaching hospital—they’re sure to have a few extra skeletons you can haul home in the back of your Subaru. Don’t just throw them in a lawn chair—pose them dramatically. Have them drinking martinis or playing an eternal game of cards—they already have poker faces.
Fake tombstones are dead to me. Make your own with real stone pavers and clever epitaphs, like:
- “I Might Be Stone Cold, But You’re Ugly.”
- “Finally Stiff Without Viagra.”
- “I’ve Finally Reached My Goal Weight.”
Step 5: Want Some Candy, Little Boy?
Candy distribution is not mandatory on Halloween. If you’d rather keep your holiday childproof, booby-trap your lawn. Motion-activated paintball guns or a swarm of bees are effective. Or lock the doors, turn out the lights, and stay at a luxury hotel. Nothing says “Happy Halloween” like a screaming deal on an overnight with a king-sized bed and room service.
If you do decide to be the sugar connection in your neighborhood, it’s full-size candy bars only. Fun size is not fun, and you don’t want to live down the reputation of being those people. If you’re going to contribute to someone’s diabetes, do it with gusto. To make a great impression, wrap the candy bars in faux spider silk with tiny rhinestones. The kids might not care, but their parents will whisper “legend” under their breath.
Final Thoughts: For Whom the Bell Tolls
Halloween decorating is not just about scaring people—it’s about inducing cardiac arrest. Let your dark, malevolent inner self shine. If they’re not shivering in fright, you didn’t do it right. Go big. Go fabulously festive. Go Gaylord.
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