My friend is directing a short film with the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse as the main characters (yeah - Death, War, Pestilence, etc. - believe it or not, it’s a comedy!) She asked me to help costume her Four and I agreed (I knit one scarf, suddenly I’m a professional…)

It’s October! It’s Halloween! Costumes galore, right? We spent Saturday afternoon strolling through shops and we’re almost ready to call it a day because we couldn’t find anything we were looking for. Finally, we stumbled upon a costume shop in NoHo (that’s North Hollywood, not a typo.)

As we approached the delapidated structure, I thought, “Hmmm. This is going to be.. interesting.” You know the kind of place. It looks a bit ominous on the outside so you know there must be something cool inside? And, I was right — we walked into a massive store but could only see about 50 feet ahead of us. Everywhere we looked, the place was packed with costumes and assorted freaky ’stuff’ — above us, beside us, lining the walls — allowing only a single-file path through the place. The further we walked, the more costumes, stage stairs, chandeliers and other props we saw.

The building went on forever and every inch was covered in layers and layers of costumes. At about the middle of the building there was a clearing with a couple of sofas, some lamps. A perfect spot for modeling whatever you were trying on. Suddenly he appeared in front of us! He seemed to… materialize from thin air — like one of the costumes came to life.

He was dressed in black jeans and black sweater with a milky, pasty-white skin. It was as if Crispin Glover and Edward Scissorshands morphed into one. He even sounded a little like George McFly! His dyed-black mop of hair cascaded down into his face, covering most of it. In his wispy, airy voice, he queried, “Is there something I can help you find?”

If ever there were a time to blurt out “The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse“… that was it. My friend Deb obliged… with a slight smirk in her voice. Our new friend laughed, threw his dangling mop-hair back, and led us upstairs to look at some robes.

The roof of the building was about 25 feet above us and ALL of this space was lined with costumes. Crispin Scissorshands found a couple of robes for us to look at — they were black and similar to what we said we needed. Of course, we were talking Apocalypse-y Horsemen-type robes. He giggled and stated, “Oh, these are judges robes!” He let out another giggle that actually scared me.

We looked around in disbelief — in this vault of every costume known to man the only black robes they had were judges robes? We were beginning to wonder what happened to the judges… As if the place weren’t odd enough, now it was getting just plain ominous.We noticed some of the costumes hadn’t been moved in ages — most were covered in a thick layer of dust. My friend and I agreed — mmmmmmaybe time to go (ya think?)

We began to chat loudly about leaving, making a big show of it, hoping Creepy Boy would get the hint that he wouldn’t have time to pull out his hatchet and hack us to pieces. But Crispin Scissorhands seemed like he wanted someone to talk to, so he mentioned that he had been in the back setting up for a show before we arrived. Being the nice girls we are, we took the bait and asked, “What kind of show?” To which, he giggled, and replied “Wanna see?” I reached out to grab Deb, but it was too late. “Sure!” she said, and we scampered off after him… into the back room. We ducked behind a small curtain and stepped into a tiny room (with yet even more costumes) with a full drum kit taking up most of the small space. He said his band was going to be playing there that night. I whispered to Deb, “Where?” There was certainly not much room for an audience. And Deb, being so nice, asks what time the show starts. Mr. Scissorhands replied with a giggly “Six o’clock!” And — with a pasty white finger — he flicks the cymbal.

It was all we could do to not start laughing.

We thank him for his time and made a bee-line for the front door. As we worked our way out of the store, through the maze of costumes, Crispin Scissorhand would continue to materializing beside us, cutting us off at each pass, thanking us for coming, and stop by again. Real soon!

We ran to the car, hopped in, and wound up the windows real tight… so no one could us dying with laughter. It was by far the best “only in LA” experience I’ve had in ages!

UPDATE! Here’s a pic of how our costumes turned out for the Four Horsemen!