Halloween Hierarchy

Dear American Children,

I know that you are aware of what time of year it is. The leaves are changing and the fall wind is blowing the excitement of Halloween through your hair. You dream of hopping into the costume that your mom made after a few boxes of wine last Friday night and instantly being transported into a world of magic and glee. Well I advise you, young ones, to hold onto that feeling as long as  you possibly can because as soon as you reach adolescence, the joy of Halloween is quickly made into a fortress of social scrutiny. Basically what I’m saying is that those fun little Halloween Express commercials are absolutely lying to you. The girl in the scary (with a dash of gothic sexiness) witch costume isn’t cool. She also isn’t happy. Do you know why? Because the guy dressed up as a hunky version of Bob The Builder isn’t buying her a “Jack O’ Lantern,” he’s buying it for the slutty cat. Yeah, that cat is going to find out if he can really “fix it” while witch girl is sitting on the sidelines next to the girl that was gutsy enough to actually dress up as a baked potato. All I’m saying is if you’re going to rebel against anything in those angsty teen years, I would pick the Disney Channel. Its a cruel world out there, filled with evil stares and whispers. Nothing like Halloweentown. Good luck. Be brave and whatever you do, show some cleavage. 

May the Force Be With You,

Katherine

                                  

I have always been a firm believer in the non-slutty Halloween costume. I mean the way I look at it, any girl can slap on some garters and platforms and call themselves a “Bumble Bee” but I am an original. My creativity can’t be squandered by the typical desire to well, for lack of a better word, be desired. Frankly, I think that your costume says a lot about you as a person. This thought became even more evident this weekend as I hit the town to soak up the festivities. I was dressed head to toe as a sheep and was feeling pretty fly until I realized my cotton ball-covered homemade gem was less than well received. It was clear that every costume fit into its own little “clique.” It was exactly like the lunch room dynamic in the movie Mean Girls, you had your group and if you veered from it the structure of the social norm would be completely shifted, causing an animal-like uproar. The groups were assembled as such:

The Slutty Occupation Costume- Everyone knows these girls. The ones that buy those Legs Avenue brand cop, nurse, or construction worker costumes. It really doesn’t matter how many times you tell your friends that that costume is so “unoriginal” you still secretly wish you were them. You wish they’d invite you to sit with them at lunch, but you know what, Girl That Dressed Up Like Frodo, they never will. They will just continue to mean mug you from behind their Solo Cup of Andre champagne and use their syringe to squirt your boyfriend’s R&R whiskey into his mouth. Their occupation of choice may be blue collar, but the truth is they run this town. 

The Popstars- The slightly less popular but still highly respected Popstar costume has been done for many generations, but this year as I sat in the corner observing them in their natural habitat, I had a revelation. Our “pop” culture is super weird. Think about it: 10 years ago girls were putting pigtails in their hair, slipping into middrift sweaters and calling themselves Britney Spears. While slightly irritating, it wasn’t very peculiar. Now it’s all brightly colored wigs and stilettos in the shape of inanimate objects. None the less, the Rhianna, Katy Perry, and Ke$ha of the party seemed to be quite a hit with the frat boys who, not surprisingly, were almost all dress as Edward Cullen in a desperate attempt to woo the ladies. And yes, Ke$ha brushed her teeth with a bottle of Jack nearly 6 times on demand.

The Regular Animal Costume- This is where my dog costume-clad roommate and I fit in. We were shunned to sit at the poorly assembled card table with the other confused animals for the duration of the night. I felt exactly like Lindsay Lohan’s character on her first day of school, except instead of being greeted by Janice Ian and Damian, I was welcomed to the table by a pair of “cats.” It was pretty apparent that these girls had missed the stripper memo as well. I wouldn’t put us in the band geek category but let’s just say, we definitely were going to be spending our prom making a “stand against the man” at a local coffee shop. 

The Foreign Exchange Students Dressed as Babies (see picture)- This is definitely the bottom tier of the social scale. Though my category doesn’t provide me much street cred, I still wouldn’t launch myself this far into social suicide. I don’t know if I would even let them sit at my lunch table. I honestly didn’t even know a costume so horrifying could exist until I had to experience it first hand. I was just sitting there shedding cotton balls and minding my own business when up behind me popped Angel and Raphael the bouncing, blubbering and slightly terrifying Spanish exchange students. They were completely naked except for a strategically placed diaper and a pacifier hanging out of their mouths. They loved my handy work on the sheep outfit and insisted I take a picture with them and load it to “Ze Facebook.” As I posed, I looked on to see the popular girls whisper and point as my last hope at being cool trickled away. 

Though I did eventually swallow my pride and load our picture to Ze Facebook, I took a valuable lesson away from this Halloween experience. You should never throw away your morality and dignity for a chance at popularity. Being yourself is the best you can offer anyone and that should always be enough. Except for on Halloween that is, so slap on your skankiest green dress and call yourself Kermit the Frog or no one is going to buy you a drink, sweetheart.