It reared its bony head in 2020, when this chaotic first pandemic year it was full of grief and fear, but also toilet paper hoarding and questionable lockdown-inspired purchases. Meet Skelly, the 12-foot, 90-pound skeleton, on sale for $299 at Home Depot, just in time for Halloween — that is, if you can get your hands on one.
Many did, because this is America. And when we’re sad, stressed, or bored, we go shopping, drowning our collective anxieties in things we definitely don’t need but most definitely want.
So, starting in 2020, Skelly appeared on suburban lawns from California to New Jersey and on the stoops of Brooklyn, naked or dressed in costume, towering over jack-o’-lanterns and plastic tombstones with spooky puns like “Rest In Pieces.” It didn’t take long for people to realize that keeping Skelly outside all year meant new opportunities to dress her for every season: Christmas, the Fourth of July, or even just a bikini for summer.
In 2024, Skelly got glowing LCD eyeballs. And in 2026, a Bluetooth connection lets you record or speak to sounds live, entertaining (or destabilizing) your entire neighborhood. He also has a dog, a cat, and a smaller 6 and a half foot version for those who can’t quite commit to a giant. It is sold every year before Halloween.
Chrissy and Dominic Montesano look at the 12-foot-tall skeleton in front of their home in Valencia, Pennsylvania, October 15, 2020. (AP Photo/Ted Shaffrey, File)
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“It’s quintessential American decor,” says Aubrey Horowitz, Holiday decor merchandiser at Home Depot. “We really love that feeling of nostalgia and having some form of connection with our communities and the people who live around us. And frankly, you know, much bigger is better.”
I didn’t celebrate Halloween until I came to the United States from Eastern Europe when I was 13. I was shocked by the size of everything: giant cars, highways with all those lanes, huge gallons of milk instead of our polished liters, skyscrapers so tall they licked the clouds.
We weren’t used to fantasy either. Showy yard decorating, whether for Halloween or Christmas, was as foreign a concept as warehouse shopping or smiling at strangers.
Skelly would definitely have stopped us in our tracks. This is still the case. The typically American pleasure that this brings to me, an immigrant still often impressed by the seasonal joy of Americans and their extravagant ornaments, is contagious.
The United States did not invent Halloween. But the excess of Halloween, with its pillowcases full of candy, its elaborate costumes for everyone from babies to adults to dogs (and a few unlucky cats), couldn’t be more American.
And why have a 5′8″ skeleton when you can have a 12 foot one?
Part of a recurring series, “American Objects,” marking the 250th anniversary of the United States. For more American items, click here. For more birthday stories, click here.
Gn bussni
