So you wanna have a Halloween party?

I haven't been much of a Halloween fan since 1993, when a longtime girlfriend left me to run away with vampires. Live-action role-playing vampires, to be precise — a mob of quasi-goth wingnuts running the local "Vampire: The Masquerade" game. After weeks of babbling about "the Clan Ventrue" and "bloodwine," my girl finally packed up her kit and coffin and transmogrified herself out of my life two weeks shy of All Hallow's Eve. I spent the holiday, and most Halloweens after that, sitting in gloomy bars muttering obscenities into my wolfbane. Nothing could scare me.

But that was long ago. Time heals all wounds, and now I'm ready to have a proper Halloween party. Last year, my girlfriend and I had a pumpkin-carving gathering, accentuated with a fog machine purchased at Fred Meyer in a moment of weakness. That was fun, but now I'm ready for a proper night of zombie madness with costumes and music and absinthe ... oops, I mean cocktails made with gin that was purchased legally right here in this country.

Now, I can't tell you how to throw a Halloween party (aside from saying "Don't invite the damn vampires"), but I can tell you where I'm getting the peripheral stuff that will make this night of pure evil one for the books. If you hurry to follow these instructions, you may even be able to find some of these items before I buy them all.

Anybody who's lived in Seattle longer than a week has heard of Ye Olde Curiosity Shoppe, the wondrous curio shop and mini museum of human oddities on Pier 54. If you're only five days into your first week, here's all you need to know about the place: they sell shrunken heads.

No, they're not real shrunken heads — the real heads are behind glass and valuable beyond price. Ye Olde Curiosity Shoppe offers fake (but still plenty creepy) shrunken heads made from boiled goatskin that's been hand-formed into the shape of a noggin. They run about $12 each, and like all the good things in life, you get a discount if you buy in bulk. I'll need only about a half dozen for door prizes, along with a couple of rubber shrunken heads for my vegetarian friends. (Strange to think that those folks are less upset by actual human heads than by those made of goatskin, but that's Seattle for you.)

It's inevitable that some of my guests will end up in the boudoir, doing unspeakable things atop the pile of coats, capes and cloaks on the bed. And when they do, I want them to be impressed by the lasciviousness of our bedding. That's the work of Sin in Linen, a bedding line designed by Sandy Glaze. Her flirty, pinup-emblazoned sheets, pillowcases, duvet covers and the like are available in several local shops, including Easy Street Records, Babeland, Concrete and Roq la Rue.

Sin in Linen's "Pirate" and "Flames of Desire" designs will make any bedroom into a den of iniquity. (But, y'know, the fun kind of iniquity, the kind in which nobody gets hurt or runs away with role-playing dweebs.) And that's just the beginning: The Sin in Linen line has recently spread its influence into your kitchen, with perfectly nice placemats festooned with shiny daggers.

Well, it's got to be Archie McPhee. Sorry to sound like a stuck record, but Seattle's "Outfitters of Popular Culture" really takes on a preternatural glow at this time of year. Virtually everything in the store is suitable for Halloween parties, from the Bendable Mustache to the Latex Severed Leg. And you can call me old-fashioned, but I think an Avenging Unicorn is perfect for any time of year, but I digress.

My two favorite Halloween items at McPhee this year are very basic (and available only in the store). The "Push-Button Monsters" — simple plastic figurines of a vampire, skeleton, Frankenstein-like monster and jack-o'-lantern that collapse and reconstitute when you press a button on the base — are right swell party favors at $1.95 a pop. If that's beyond your range, I strongly recommend the monster rings, screaming creature faces that will provide priceless ironic counterpoint to your wedding band at just 25 cents a pop.

Finally, I'll need music, 'cos it ain't no kind of party without ghoulish sounds, and my girlfriend has made me swear off the Electric Light Orchestra, so I'm buying all-new scary music at Sonic Boom.

Now, the sound that scares me might not do a damn thing for you, but I think we can all agree that the mere thought of Devendra Banhart performing with Malcolm McLaren is kinda terrifying. It happens on "Do They Know It's Halloween?", a UNICEF benefit single featuring the aforementioned Banhart and McLaren, plus Beck, Sum 41, David Cross, The Arcade Fire, Yeah Yeah Yeahs, Wolf Parade, Sparks, Elvira (Mistess of the Dark!) and too many more to name. I haven't heard it enough times to know if I like it yet, but I do know that David Cross' singing voice scares the hell out of me.

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