Before Spirit Halloween, before rubber serial killer masks, before parents sweated for weeks to ensure their children’s Halloween costumes were screen accurate, there was Ben Cooper. He was a man, though for most of my childhood, that name was a brand, a company, a kind of autumn wallpaper lining the shelves of Ben Franklin stores and local pharmacies every October. The Ben Cooper brand was identified by its circular logo in the corner of its boxes, like the DC Comics logo.
In fact, Ben Cooper licensed DC. Ben Cooper also licensed Marvel. And “Star Wars.
” And Bozo. And the Beatles. Ben Cooper licensed everyone .
Even John F. Kennedy. Ben Cooper made Halloween costumes representing famous characters before most Halloween costumes were famous characters.
Then, more often than not, it produced a cheaply-made plastic and vinyl costume with only a vague resemblance to that character. Dracula, which Ben Cooper licensed from Universal, was more Phantom of the Opera than Bela Lugosi. Ben Cooper’s Alien masks looked like a skull sporting a full beard.
Fonzie costumes suggested a human being resembling Henry Winkler, albeit embalmed. Ben Cooper was not the only brand of drugstore Halloween costume sold from the 1930s until roughly 1982 — after which Ben Cooper, and other Halloween businesses, looked askance at the Tylenol scare that sprung out of Chicago just before that year’s trick or treating commenced, knew its days were numbered and stumbled. For decades there was also.
