As poultry owners, we know that there are several ways to dress a chicken. We can butcher it traditionally, or we can spatchcock it. We can dispose of the head, feet and giblets, or we can keep them for assorted recipes. And some of us dress our chickens for the holidays in adorable costumes or festive little sweaters and scarves. Dressing a chicken means different things to different people, but did you know there are also people who like to dress as a chicken?
I’m not talking about people who are paid to put on chicken costumes and stand roadside, enticing passersby to their particular restaurant. I mean those folks who, of their own accord, choose to dress like a chicken … and publicly at that. Their costumes can be elaborately and accurately feathered, humanoid, or cartoonish and comfy, and you can assume each person dressed as a chicken has their own particular reason. Here are just three stories of people who’ve chosen to leave the house in chicken costumes:
Flocking Together
It might have been an ordinary evening in downtown Detroit, but for Zoey Beaudoin it was a hens’ night out … literally. She and her friends were all wearing warm, cozy kigurumi—onesie pajamas, often hooded and typically in animal form—styled like White Leghorns.
This Allen Park, Michigan, resident and her poultry-esque pals weren’t roaming around aimlessly like chickens with their heads cut off, however. Their gallinaceous galavanting was spent representing characters from the Japanese animated program Zombie Land Saga, in which a troupe of singing, dancing zombie girls in chicken costumes raise money for their group. Beaudoin portrayed Sakura Minamoto, the main character, but for those unfamiliar with this musical anime she was simply dressed as a chicken. And that was perfectly all right.
“The best part was how comfy it was!” noted Beaudoin.
Chicken Dance
It was almost impossible to miss the bright yellow chicken roaming around Grand Rapids’ DeVos Place Center. Bedecked in a royal blue cape, this capering capon frolicked amongst the festivalgoers of the Grand Rapids Comic Con, greeting children and posing for photos. Despite his inability to speak—his costume completely covered his head—there was no mistaking the perky charisma emitted by this cheerful chicken.
His non-costumed companion explained that her fowl friend’s name was Static Squawk and that, as the show’s official ambassador, his mission was to spread silliness and smiles. Her words were drolly accompanied by Static Squawk’s comical actions, accentuating the fact that dressing in a chicken costume was not quite as featherbrained a move as it first may seem if its predominant goal was to make people happy.
The Cool Roo
He shows up unexpectedly: at a concert, at a rave, at a screening, at a convention. Nobody really seems to know when or where he’ll appear. When he does, however, people clamor for his photo. It might be because of his retro letterman’s jacket, which adds to the James Dean-like demeanor he exudes. Most likely, though, it’s because of the giant rooster mask he wears.
Any sighting reported on social media must be accompanied by photographic evidence, as well as location identification so that others have the opportunity to take a picture of or with him. Months might go by without so much as a peep from him, then suddenly he’s cropping up everywhere … but just for a day.
