My 31 Days of Cosplay, or How Dressing Up as Other People Can Help You Find Yourself

Halloween — it’s that one time of year where weird is chic. Where you can become whoever you want, and you won’t raise too many eyebrows.

To celebrate my favorite holiday of the year, for the month of October, I embarked on thirty-one days of costumes. Each day, I’ve posted a different look on my social media, exploring the characters in horror, fantasy, and beyond that have fueled my imagination. It’s been a fun excursion and one that’s also gotten me thinking about why I love these characters and how they’ve impacted me, both as a storyteller and as a person.

I’m writing this post on Halloween as I’m winding down the project (I have only one more look left to reveal). So with the scent of greasepaint still wafting in the air, here are a few of my favorite looks, with a focus on the queer characters and queer creators that inspire me.

Gwendolyn, a white queer person, dressed as Jareth the Goblin King, hanging out in the backyard holding a crystal ball.

Inspired by David Bowie as Jareth the Goblin King in Labyrinth

There’s nobody like David Bowie. A queer icon and the ultimate artistic chameleon, he left a legacy that continues to inspire, especially among many of us in the LGBTQ+ community. His role as Jareth the Goblin King in Jim Henson’s 1986 fantasy masterpiece, Labyrinth, was among my earliest introduction to Bowie. And what an introduction it is. He’s got the look, and the all-consuming screen presence. It sometimes makes me sad to think that he only did a handful of acting performances (The Hunger and The Man Who Fell to Earth being among his other well-remembered roles); I feel like there was a lot of untapped potential for eccentric and iconoclastic characters that we never had a chance to see.

I’ve been studying Bowie in this role for years, obsessed with his ease and charm as the Goblin King, so I definitely had a great time when I finally attempted this look. The makeup came together quickly — it’s all about the eyes and the eyebrows — and my husband and I have a house filled with crystals, so that crystal ball was just waiting for a chance to have its closeup. Add in a wig that’s a fairly good imitation of Bowie’s hair in the film, and this one made for a gleeful October afternoon photo shoot in our backyard.

Gwendolyn, a queer white person, dressed as Poison Ivy with her sparkling red hair and abundance of foliage. She has sparkling green eye shadow, winged eyeliner and red lipstick. She’s covered in leafy vines.

Inspired by Poison Ivy

Poison Ivy has it all: intelligence, strength, wit, and glamour. All of her iterations are fascinating, from the comic books to the cartoons. Although it remains widely panned, even Uma Thurman’s performance as the character in Batman and Robin entertained me. And now that Poison Ivy’s romantic relationship with Harley Quinn is canonical, she’s a queer touchstone in the world of comics that have historically been way too straight and way too male-centric.

Years ago, I worked as a fashion designer, so the dress I used for this cosplay look was in storage from a previous comic book-themed fashion show where I took inspiration from Poison Ivy. I’d considered doing the full makeup, since Poison Ivy is sometimes depicted with a chlorophyll complexion, but this was on the last weekend of the cosplay project, and my skin was begging for a break. Consequently, I did a more straightforward glamour makeup instead. The full green look can always wait until next year.

Gwendolyn, a queer white person, dressed as The Bride of Frankenstein, in color and in classic black and white. In the first she is in profile, red lips, winged eye, and a black Bride of Frankenstein wig, wrapped in a white sheet. She has stitches drawn against her jawline. In the second, she is making a vampiric expression, and behind her is a staged setting including Frankenstein’s monster.

Inspired by Elsa Lanchester in The Bride of Frankenstein

The classic Universal Horror films are such an incredible starting point for much of the genre’s cinematic legacy, and nobody did it quite as well as director James Whale. As a gay man in the 1930s, Whale sadly knew all too well what it was like to be an outsider, and his films often convey the theme of trying to belong in a world that doesn’t accept you.

Ever since I was a kid, I’ve always been drawn to The Bride of Frankenstein — and I was always a little disappointed that she wasn’t in the film more than just a few minutes. Still, she manages to leave her mark. Needless to say, this cosplay look was a blast. That sky-high hair! That wild makeup! An opportunity to surround myself with mad scientist props! A shout-out to my dad who invited me over to his house to use his extensive Halloween collection for my photo shoot. It certainly added to the ambiance of this look.

Gwendolyn, a queer white person, dressed in the orange-and-blue lightning bolt makeup from David Bowie’s Aladdin Sane. Her eyes are closed and her face is slightly tilted downwards. She is wearing an orange wig.

Inspired by David Bowie on the cover of Aladdin Sane

After putting together the Goblin King costume earlier in the month, I went back and forth about whether to do another David Bowie look. But as October drew to a close, I ultimately decided that you can’t have too much Bowie in your life, so I went with his glorious lightning bolt makeup from the cover of his 1973 album. Identity was always so malleable for Bowie, and his Aladdin Sane days, much like his Ziggy Stardust era, were rather short-lived. However, it remains instantly recognizable almost fifty years later. It’s a potent reminder that not only are we in charge of our own identity, but also that our identity doesn’t have to stay static. No one except you has a right to decide who you are. That message courtesy of David Bowie is certainly one I always cherish.

Gwendolyn, a queer white person, in a rainstorm as Irena in the remake of Cat People. Her pupils are digitally altered to look eerie, and her mouth is slightly open. Her skin is wet. An image of rain is behind her, and her hair is slicked back.

Inspired by Nastassja Kinski as Irena in Cat People (1982)

The theatrical poster for Paul Schrader’s 1982 remake of Cat People has always intrigued me. The stark golden color and the erotic yet nearly mournful look on Nastassja Kinski’s face instantly pull you in. This film also contains another David Bowie connection: he performed the much-loved theme song, “Cat People (Putting Out Fire).”

This image was one of my favorites to create for the project, because there were so many elements that had to come together for it to work. The picture itself is a composite of two images — the background of the weather and the foreground of me looking like I’m in the middle of the weather — and we even had to create rain to complete the illusion. After all, there’s nothing like standing out at midnight in your backyard in the middle of October doused in water to test your commitment.

Striving for perfection as a ballerina in Black Swan: Gwendolyn, a queer white person, wearing a black strapless leather piece with a zipper down the front, black feathers coming out of the top. Her mouth, red lips, is open, and she is wearing dramatic black eye makeup. Her hair is pinned back.

Inspired by Natalie Portman as Nina in Black Swan

From the moment of its release, Black Swan had all the markers of an iconic horror film in the making: the sumptuous costumes, the intricate makeup, the gorgeous choreography. The tale of one ballerina’s obsession with perfection is a macabre tribute to the many sacrifices that artists make for the sake of their art.

On a personal note, I’ve always felt the sapphic elements of the film fall a little short — the depiction of Nina and Lily’s relationship has a decidedly male gaze — but Black Swan remains a beautiful and fascinating exploration of body horror and creativity nonetheless. It was a joy to create this costume, mirroring the feathers of the corset in the feather-like texture of the eye makeup. This look is somehow simultaneously extreme and delicate, which is such an apt way to describe Nina and her quest for perfection that tragically ends in self-annihilation.

Gwendolyn, a queer white person, hanging out in a gothic home as Elvira. There is a fake tombstone and candelabra behind her as she poses horizontally on the bottom of a wooden staircase. She’s wearing a black crushed velvet dress, black stockings, and black stilettos. She also wears a long black wig, and purple and blue dramatic eye makeup, with red lips.

Inspired by Elvira, Mistress of the Dark

I can’t remember a time without Elvira. Her television show was already on cable by the time I was a little kid, which means she’s always been part of my horror-loving life. And the lessons she taught me were important ones right from the get-go: specifically, that you could be glamorous, gothic, and also incredibly funny. You didn’t need to choose; you could be whoever and whatever you wanted, and you could have a great time doing it. Her bright blue and pink makeup is at once unmistakably over-the-top and incredibly gorgeous, both a celebration of beauty and also a wink-and-a-nod to how kitschy and camp our beauty standards really are.

Now with the publication of her memoir, she’s finally talking about her long-time relationship with her partner T, making her the kind of queer icon I’ve been searching for my whole life. Also, the fact that she waited until she was seventy years old before she came out is a reminder that it’s never too late to express who you are. Long live Elvira, and long live horror.