A Discourse on Halloween Attire
Illustrated by SARAH VATNE
It is non-denominational. It is a chance to be pagan, eat free candy, and live as the libertine. It is a children’s holiday during which it is socially acceptable to drink. Anyone can get gothic, dress as Batman, wear leotards and be the life of the party. If this evidence is not enough to convince you of Halloween’s holiday supremacy, then this article is not for you.
Yet, all is not well in the land of kit-kats and mini snickers: you are ruining Halloween. Yes: you! Well, not you in particular. But halloween, that crazy caped adventure every October the 31rst, was founded on ghosts, angels, pirates, mummies, and more recently Japanese animé and angry birds. Okay, I know, floating around in the holiday’s past are actually All Saint’s Day and the spooky specter of Christianity. But what Halloween is not founded on is low cut t-shirts and tight jeans complimented by cat whiskers or a cowboy hat. It is not founded on the refrigerator of a football player. It is a twist on a Christian holiday that Celts and Romans held to end the summer. It was to dress and beg, not to dress and impress. You must threaten for your sweets: trick or treat!
Now I know you have most likely heard this sermon before, but please, bear with me. Enjoy sexual objectification? No worries. But consider the lost opportunities. How many times in our life do we really get the chance to dress up however we choose? The answer is not very often, at least not if your one of your goals in life includes gainful employment. So girls, guys, I plead with you: give it up. Don't waste this God-given... um... government-given (halloween is non-denominational), once-a-year opportunity with preening and pruning. Forget the naughty cat, the rugged jock. This is your time to be that secret superhero you adore, or the mad scientist, of Frankenstein. Be Sarah Palin! Get Mavricky.
Don’t just be one more sexy nurse among a crowd of imposters not even trained in C.P.R., or an ogre of manhood. Would you not rather be something awesome like an 18th century bourgeoisie capitalist? Certainly a figure to dread. I'm still wondering, though: why did people keep thinking I was Mr. Monopoly?