Yesterday I suddenly remembered the worst costume I ever had (for so many reasons): in October of 1999, I went to my very first Halloween party thrown by Cool Girls. I did not have any costume ideas, so my mom suggested ... Sybil. Like, the woman with multiple personalities.

Yeah. I don’t know why she suggested it, I don’t know why I agreed to it, but either way, that was what we settled on. Sybil, that cultural touchstone for all 9th graders in 1999.

(I remember being unclear on if this was Cybil Shepherd or not, and mom had to clarify).

I know now that a mental illness - even a fictional one - is not an appropriate costume. But it was 1999 so I’m going to ask for a little slack here in what was probably a situation where I was melting down and my mom just said the first thing that came to mind, which again, why.

“So what does a Sybil costume entail?” you might ask, and with good reason because neither of us actually knew. Somehow we decided on: plaid knee length skirt, white button down, Mary Janes, and a “hello my name is” tag with a bunch of names crossed out and SYBIL in the middle.

So off I go to my very first house party, thrown by Cool Girls who were 8th graders but they wore thongs and kissed boys, so in my socially awkward mind, I was headed to an orgy.

I’m greeted by the hostess who takes one look at my costume and says “great Britney Spears costume!”

You guys, it’s October 1999, “... Baby One More Time” has been released a year prior, and half the girls at the party are dressed in sexy schoolgirl outfits.

“No, I’m Sybil,” I correct, and point at my name tag. “She has multiple personalities.” The girl kind of just smiles and nods and lets me into her house, at which point I spend the rest of the night standing by the snacks and repeating that interaction with everyone.

At no point did it occur to me to just ... remove the name tag and pretend it was a Britney Spears costume. My brain just doesn’t work that way, because while I think Harry Potter houses are bad, I am deeply a Hufflepuff and I will continue to explain my costume rather than lie.

Anyway. That’s the story of how I somehow simultaneously lived out both the Cady Heron and Karen Smith costume moments at my first house party in 9th grade.