My SO had to wear a rabbit suit for an event at work in the 80s. She got a bit claustrophobic in it so she pulled the head off, just like in your photo!
I was in a crappy rock band in Toronto in the late '70's. The guitarist/keyboard player's borrowed gear kept crapping out on the gig, we kept getting stiffed for our cut of the door, and all the usual drama.
The final straw came when they hooked up with the original promoter for the Mynah Birds.
He promised us all kinds of gigs, as long as we did a few favours for him. The gigs were a nightmare, because he didn't give a flying @#$! about where we played.
We were a straight-ahead hard rock act, and our first date turned out to be a flashy disco in Burlington. Our James Band and Bad Company covers didn't go down very well.
The next was three nights at a punk club, on Bloor St in Toronto. We began our set, and the skinheads started spitting on us and throwing beer bottles. On the third night, I cut my hand on broken glass that had landed on top of my amp. That was also the night we found out that the band was responsible for their share of the PA rental, so most of our money went up in smoke.
I was getting a double cut because I was the only band member with a van, but even then, I ended up with $13 for three nights. I immediately quit, and went back to playing weddings in Hamilton.
Anyway, it turned out that promoter's main schtick was engagements at department stores. He had two mynah's that he billed as "killer mynah birds", a Mynah Byrd mascot suit, and a red carpet.
He would have his bands walk around downtown in their stage outfits, handing out pamphlets for the show. Then he'd walk them up the red carpet ("Folks, please put your hands together for the amazing Mynah Birds, fresh from Las Vegas!!!"). With that bit of theater out of the way, he would spin a story about how the male mynah bird only mates once because the female kills him afterward, and then invite the audience to pay $5 each to touch the birds for good luck.
The first of these engagements was in Kitchener, but the new bass player refused to go. They offered to buy my girlfriend and I lunch and pay me $50 up front if I would fill in, and I agreed to go- but only if I could wear the mascot outfit.
They all thought I was crazy to volunteer, but there was method to my madness. Standing up on the runway while a bunch of little old ladies stared at them was extremely embarassing, but that suit made me completely anonymous...