Halloween is often seen as a manufactured holiday, with synthetic sweeteners in candy, the signature plastic decorations, and cobwebs that adorne porches.
But alongside the synthetic and store-bought, October remains a time for creativity, rooted in imagination and reinvention. Thrift stores are filled with items awaiting a new purpose, offering insight into the minds of individuals and allowing them to embody their creations, much like modern-day Frankenstein.
Likewise, homes too become living creations brought to life, becoming canvases of creativity alive with handmade scares.
Jasmine Canales, 25, sees Halloween as a nostalgic incubator, a holiday that was once ripe with children flooding the streets as the yellow glow of streetlights cast down in an eerie manor, and a harbinger of Halloween that was about to commence.
Halloween rears its head early to announce its presence as prematurely as summer. Yet, its hasty arrival is indicative of excitement; it’s a symptom of a culture driven by consumption. For Canales, Halloween is a lifestyle not abandoned or fleeting, reserved only for the economic craze for the end of the year.

“One thing without fail is the prices for costumes, candy and general decor keep rising every year. Though it may be an outside cause of the economic climate, I definitely think the holidays are used by businesses to make more profit. That’s the kind of Halloween we have right now,” Canales said. “Though trends can be fun for some, it lacks surprise. It lacks a genuine reaction from people because they know what to expect. Being able to be creative in your own right and being able to come up with ideas and concepts brings a new life to the holiday.”
As Canales’ fingers trail along thrift store racks in search of items that allow them to embody iconic horror figures, like last year, when they searched thrift stores to recreate Billy Loomis’ look. For them, Halloween isn’t just a seasonal obsession; it’s a lifestyle that blends the macabre seamlessly with their daily aesthetic.
“A grand interest of mine is vintage items. Specifically, items that were crafted from the 1980s to the 2000s. There’s a charm and aesthetic to Halloween decor from back then. Today, many decorations are made for trends instead of being unique,” Canales said. “So it’s refreshing going to the thrift store and seeing more distinctive decor and being able to love an item that was previously loved.”
With the popularity of Halloween decor and costumes comes the risk of regurgitation, a cycle that can bore the eye with its lackluster, repetitive reappearance.
For Alia Marquez, psychology major, the eyes have grown strained from seeing the same costumes and decor, devoid of any personal touch, but the signature of mass production persists.

“Seeing something homemade or something with someone’s personal touch makes it unique and stands out from mass-produced products you see on lawns or on people.” Marquez said.
Last year, Marquez took creative liberties with a costume, though a staple of the season — an angel —ordained by her personal touch, a vision she executed that set it apart from the mundane.
“DIY (do-it-yourself) allowed me to express myself more deeply in the challenging aspect, as I can push myself to make something out of nothing,” Marquez said. “Being able to find something that I can picture in my mind come to life is satisfying.”
Sometimes the home itself becomes a sanctuary of creativity, much like a thrift store with its collection of specialized and unique knick-knacks. Ordinary items lie in wait — forgotten trinkets, mundane tools and under appreciated relics nestled in shadowed shelves or cluttered drawers. They patiently bide their time, yearning for the discerning eye and creative mind that can transform them into something extraordinary.
“I like to go through every nook and cranny in the house to find random knick-knacks to add to my creations,” Marquez said. “I don’t have the ability to go to thrift stores often so that becomes a limitation either in progress or starting something.”
Perhaps the true threat isn’t what the mind can conjure–like things lurking in the shadows– but the lifelessness in the mass-produced Halloween decorations and costumes, these replicas which drain the season of its magic. And perhaps, the savior to this monotony is the breath of life that creativity fosters for October, infusing it with vitality.
Jazmine Gracia is a writing contributor for The Prospector and can be reached [email protected]


