In recent months, a unique and colorful form of protest has emerged among demonstrators opposing President Donald Trump’s administration: the use of inflatable costumes. This growing trend has been particularly visible at rallies in Portland, Oregon, where protesters have taken to wearing oversized, whimsical inflatables such as frogs, hippos in tutus, Mr. Potato Heads, dinosaurs, and other playful outfits. These costumes have quickly become a symbol of creativity and peaceful resistance, capturing public attention and signaling a new way of protesting amidst tense and sometimes violent confrontations.
One notable incident that helped bring these inflatable costumes into the spotlight occurred on October 2nd outside the U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) building in Portland. Seth Todd, a 24-year-old protester, was clad in an inflatable frog costume when a federal officer sprayed chemical irritants directly into the costume’s air vent. A video of this moment circulated widely on social media, highlighting both the unusual nature of the costume and the aggressive tactics sometimes used by federal law enforcement during protests. For Todd, the experience, while overwhelming due to the sudden attention, was also a source of pride. He expressed feeling “honored to have inspired a movement like this,” emphasizing that the costumes help counteract negative stereotypes of protesters as violent agitators.
The inflatable costumes serve not only as a tool for protection—by creating a barrier against chemical sprays and physical contact—but also as a way to fight absurdity with absurdity. Protesters use the costumes to mock and challenge the administration’s often grim portrayal of Portland as a “war ravaged” city “burning down” and “like living in hell.” These portrayals have fueled the Trump administration’s efforts to deploy the National Guard to the city, ostensibly to protect federal property. However, these deployments have been delayed by legal challenges, with courts currently blocking the move.
Portland’s ICE building has been a focal point for nightly protests, which reached a peak in June when police declared one demonstration a riot. Since then, smaller protests and occasional clashes have persisted. Federal officers have deployed tear gas to disperse crowds, which at times have included counter-protesters and live-streaming activists. In the weeks leading up to Trump’s call for the National Guard, the number of nighttime protesters often dwindled to just a few dozen individuals. These demonstrators frequently use bullhorns to shout their demands and sometimes attempt to block vehicles entering or leaving the ICE facility, actions that federal officials argue hinder law enforcement operations.
The rise of inflatable costumes is emblematic of Portland’s broader protest culture, which is known for its quirky and creative expressions of dissent. The city has a longstanding unofficial motto, “Keep Portland Weird,” which reflects its embrace of eccentricity and individuality. This spirit extends into activism, where inventive methods like naked bike rides and now inflatable costumes are embraced as expressions of resistance. Marc Rodriguez, a history professor at Portland State University who specializes in social justice movements, notes that the costumes serve an important purpose beyond their visual appeal. By presenting protesters in a playful and nonviolent light, the costumes help challenge prevailing narratives that paint demonstrators as aggressive or dangerous.
The appeal of inflatable costumes has spread beyond Portland, finding enthusiastic adoption in other cities across the United States. At recent protests such as the nationwide “No Kings” marches, participants have donned a variety of inflatable outfits. In Austin, Texas, college student Natalie McCabe received a free inflatable bald eagle costume distributed by local groups encouraging the trend. At the “No Kings” rally, McCabe mingled with others dressed as a unicorn and a frog, enjoying the festive atmosphere. She described the experience as a welcome distraction, a chance to have fun while making a political statement.
Similarly, in Chicago, Kristen Vandawalker sported an inflatable “pegacorn” costume—a whimsical hybrid of a Pegasus and a unicorn—at a “No Kings” march. She posed for photos in front of the city’s Trump Tower as bubbles floated through the air, creating a surreal and lighthearted scene. Vandawalker, who serves as the political action director for Indivisible Chicago Northwest, remarked that the inflatable costumes send a confusing message to authorities and supporters of the administration. “It’s hard to look threatening when there’s a fan blowing you up,” she said, highlighting the costumes' ability to disarm and defy expectations of protest behavior.
Despite their growing popularity, government agencies such as the Department of Homeland Security and ICE have