I Love Halloween
I have always loved Halloween. I think it’s tailor-made for girls- who doesn’t like dressing up and being rewarded with candy? Maybe I love it because I snared my first boyfriend in 8th grade at a Halloween party while dressed like Cleopatra and kicking serious asp.
In college, I rocked an Egyptian Cat Goddess (Bastet for the nerds) look with face fulla paint and a head fulla acid and met a different guy. We made a date for a couple days after, but I didn’t keep it when I realized he did not actually know what I looked like. Of course, being a suburban gothgirl meant that the day after Halloween was the optimal time to head to Michael’s MJDesigns and stock up on cheap-azz clown white and fishnets. Day of the dead, indeed!
Historical Document from 1987.
Modern Adult Costumes
I like that in America, adults still get to dress up, although I have been slightly annoyed that the women’s costumes are limited to some combination of Goth girl and whore. Maybe you’re right. Maybe there’s not a giant difference between the two. But really- I’m a sexy witch, I’m a sexy vampire, I’m a sexy cat, I’m a sexy maid, I’m a sexy corpse- and then the guys are all supposed to be inflated sumo wrestlers and ketchup dispensers? How is a sexy witch supposed to hang out with a sumo wrestler? And all the guys are so into pirates, but they’re not into dressing as hobos, the disabled, cross-dressing transient muggers of today.
It’s not fair.
But my point- and yes, I have one.
Children Ruin Halloween
1. There is a new horrifying phenomenon when sometimes lazy, whorish Mom’s outfits are handed down, so you see an eight year old dressed as Spooky Nurse Fuckalot. Here’s some candy, honey. No, I don’t want an enema.
2. Halloween is about fantasy, and children don’t need any more fantasy. I’m tired of hearing their bullshit stories about what supposedly happened at Grandma’s.
3. Kids refuse to keep their goddamned costumes on. Last year, I met a ninja who had lost his sword and taken his hood off, so what we were dealing with was: a midget in black pajamas. I ask you. Pirates have their eyepatches upside down on foreheads. What kind of commitment is that to a “look”? No commitment at all.
Trick or treat is a farce, and as far as I can tell, it’s our fault. The little ghosts and goblins are home having their stashes rifled through by their paranoid, chocolate-starved parents by the time the street lights come on. I get home at 5:30, my house is egged and crudely spelled signs are stuck in my lawn already. Let me say- most of the time that candy is, god forbid, poisoned, it’s the kid’s own parents who do it, and I’m sure they have their reasons.