NEW YORK CITY, New York: At Chicago Costume, racks of superhero suits and anime outfits hang beneath wigs and shelves of fake blood, ready for the Halloween rush. But behind the color and chaos, owner Courtland Hickey has been quietly battling a new kind of monster, tariffs.

Hickey said he ordered 40 percent fewer costumes this year after President Donald Trump's 145 percent tariff on Chinese imports sent wholesale prices soaring. Nearly 90 percent of costumes sold in the U.S. are made in China, leaving small, family-run stores like his scrambling to adapt.

To keep shelves stocked, Hickey and his mother, Mary Hickey Panayotou, the shop's founder, dug through decades of unsold costumes stored in backrooms and a warehouse. They repackaged vintage pieces, mixed in leftover accessories, and transformed old stock into new ensembles.

"They're staple pieces that get transformed by the accessories we pair with them," Hickey said, describing how black robes once meant for rentals became wizards, judges, or graduates with the right props.

Employees stitched fabric scraps and foam into new creations, including mock miter headdresses for anyone wanting to dress as Chicago native Pope Leo.

Panayotou founded Chicago Costume in 1976, designing and renting outfits for theaters before turning it into a Halloween destination for regular customers. Over the years, her habit of keeping old items, "I'm kind of a hoarder," she admitted, created an unlikely cushion.

Now, that "hoard" has become a lifeline. While many retailers struggle with unpredictable import costs, Chicago Costume's backstock has helped it survive.

Hickey first realized the extent of the tariff problem in January at the Halloween & Party Expo in Las Vegas, where suppliers warned that new duties could reshape the industry. When Trump signed the first order of his second term on February 1, Hickey froze pending costume shipments. Some suppliers absorbed the extra costs; others told him to "take it or leave it." "I pretty much left it," he said.

Other small businesses weren't as lucky. Trick or Treat Studios, a California-based costume maker, laid off 15 employees, about a quarter of its staff, after shifting some manufacturing from China to Mexico and raising prices by 15 percent.

At Chicago Costume, where annual sales are under US$1 million, prices have risen, too. Licensed children's costumes now cost at least 25 percent more, and the store is offering fewer discounts. "If people have less money in their pocket, costumes are going to be lower on their list," Hickey said.

Early on, he saw tariffs as a potential equalizer for independents competing with big-box stores and online giants. "If this shift hurts Amazon dropshippers, Spirit Halloween, or Walmart's over-imported lines, I'm not going to mourn," he wrote in a May column for the National Costumers Association, where he serves on the board.

But optimism has faded. "The largest chains doubled down, flooding the market with cheap costumes," Hickey said. "It's been a lot harder than I hoped, but I still believe optimism, adaptability, and differentiation are what will keep independent shops like us alive."