Hasty Disguise
You put it off and put it off. And now you're screwed. Halloween is on Saturday and you don't have a costume to wear to the office boo-fest.
But you're not alone. Which is why we've compiled a run-down of local spots where your last-minute costume ideas can take shape -- with a minimum amount of effort (and money, honey). Whether you're looking to play Kate Moss or Captain America, you're likely to find the crucial elements for that brilliant disguise at one of the following...
The Usual Suspects
Party City: The budget party-supply chain turns into costume central a few weeks before Halloween, featuring a massive wall peppered with pictures of zany adult costumes, including a whoopie cushion, Peg Bundy, Ugly Betty, ketchup and mustard bottles and (winning the award for classiest costume ever) a mens' costume called "Freshman 15" that consists of a swollen female mid-section boasting a pink t-shirt and exposed thong straps.
Prices range from $14.99 for a cheesy French Maid ensemble to $59.99 for an involved Greek Goddess getup. But sizes and styles are slim pickings at this point; you've already missed out on the Medieval Princess costume. And here's a big tip: Go during school hours -- the Atwater Village store was teeming with kids at around 4 p.m. yesterday, necessitating a multi-line ordering system that was a total migraine.
Visit partycity.com for locations and hours.

WALL TO WALL: A section of the sordid costume wall at Party City.
Spirit Halloween: These all-Halloween stores are the original pop-ups -- they appear all over L.A. every October, selling all manner of adult (and kids) costumes, cave man clubs and oversized rubber rats. And the no-returns-allowed retailer is the cheapest deal in town for pre-fab costumes, with prices ranging from $19 to $39.
If you had more time, you could have ordered your Napoleon Dynamite costume (complete with glasses and a Mrs. Roper wig) off the company's extensive website. But too late for all that. Fortunately, the stores are well-stocked, and a trip into the Glendale branch yesterday yielded a gazillion potential costumes, available in sizes extra small to plus size.
There's the basic stuff -- witches, pirates, geishas -- and some cooler costumes like a Thriller-era Michael Jackson. And if Halloween is your excuse to slut-it-up in public, there's an entire room of Playboy-esque costumes -- the sexy nurse, the sexy Ghostbuster, etc.
There are also big displays dedicated to things like spray-on hair color and faux facial hair (who knew there was a specific, Sam Shepard-looking "biker moustache?")
Visit the spirithalloween.com for locations and hours.
Second-Hand News
Ozzie Dots: This vintage store-cum-costume shop in Los Feliz (which offers a mix of vintage threads and new costume pieces) has been outfitting grown-up trick-or-treaters for years -- and is still a solid stop for any retro-themed costume, i.e. Rhoda Morgenstern, Alexis Carrington or Saturday Night Fever-era John Travolta.
Prices vary wildly -- and seem to have no rhyme or reason (a rare-looking vintage flapper dress was priced at $29, while a pair of polyester Seventies trousers went for $49). Again, go during biz hours. Last night was a mad house, and it's only likely to get worse.
4637 Hollywood Blvd., Los Angeles. 323-663-2867. Open 10 a.m. to 9 p.m. today through Saturday. ozziedots.com

ROCK OUT: The front window at Ozzie Dots.
Jet Rag: This decently priced second-hand emporium in Hollywood always veers toward the costume-y, showcasing Elvis sunglasses, Madonna neon rubber bracelets and cowboy hats all year long. But if you want a ready-made ensemble, head elsewhere. The surly staff won't be doing any work for you -- come with ideas in mind and be prepared to scrounge. Prices vary from $2 for plastic bracelets to well over $100 for furs and leathers. But you can easily throw together something wicked for under $50.
825 N. La Brea Ave., Los Angeles, 323-939-0528. Open 11 a.m. to 7:30 p.m. today through Saturday.
--Emili Vesilind
For Rent
We called several rental costume shops with a variety of results, most of them humiliating. The shopkeeper at Silvia’s Costumes on Hollywood Boulevard stopped us mid-sentence with a frank assessment: “We’re out. Nothing more. Totally. Sold. Out.” Another shop in Hollywood was equally curt, while a third in Studio City simply hung up the phone.
The savior, it turned out, was Adele’s Costumes, also on Hollywood Boulevard. Their response to our pathetic plea? “We have plenty of costumes,” said the nice-but-harried woman on the other end of the line. “But I’ve got a line of customers a mile long, and I don’t have time to tell you what we have. You’re just going to have to come down and see us, O.K.?”
Okay. So we did.
