Basically, it seems like covering up as little of your body as possible has become completely acceptable on Halloween. It doesn't even merit a second thought. It's as expected as gifts on Christmas-especially for the boys. But the fact that it's so accepted and expected bothers me, and I have trouble pinpointing why.
I've always thought that as long as you're comfortable with what you're wearing and you aren't causing anyone unjustified pain by trying to fit into a pair of jeans five sizes too small. You should do whatever makes you feel good about yourself. I may laugh at you when you're freezing in 30-degree weather with a miniskirt and heels, but if you're in a miniskirt in December, I'm sure you have more problems than my laughing at you-namely, frostbite.
So why am I bothered by the fact that so many of my friends-both guys and girls-immediately assume that a Halloween costume must be as revealing as possible? It seems like Halloween costumes are always some sort of promiscuous twist on things that aren't really sexual at all. Why be a normal bumblebee when you can wear a cropped yellow shirt and a black miniskirt? Why not wear a cropped blank tube top and a tiny black miniskirt with a chain belt to be a gypsy, as one of my friends at BU just did? I think that's what bothers me most-that we're no longer satisfied with just being someone or something else for a night, but that we need to be the raciest form of it for that one night. The huge group of college girls dressed in little plaid skirts and white shirts was a little disturbing. I'm sick of seeing floppy bunny ears and angel wings on everyone. Can't you at least be creative?
And that bothers me too. I remember loving Halloween in high school because I knew that kids would come up with the wackiest outfits. There was one year, for example, that one guy made a Mac monitor out of cardboard and wore it on his head; another time, a guy came to school completely dressed in black with little white feathers pasted onto him. He was a guy who'd been tarred and feathered (and got out of gym class). One couple came as Marilyn Monroe and Joe DiMaggio, another as Cleopatra and Marc Anthony. Yes, I admit that I went to a nerdy magnet high school. But I miss the creativity that people had with their outfits and how, among the myriad princesses and cowboys there were so many unique costumes that made you appreciate the holiday for what it was-a day to step out of reality.
But maybe I'm missing the broader point. After all, it seems like the real reason why girls decide to dress as provocatively as possible is to ensure that they will be going home with someone at the end of the night-except that on this particular night, they're free to dress as skimpily as possible without the stigma of the label. Does the fact that we're so comfortable with acting the part but not with the label mean that we've somehow progressed from being objectified or submissive? Or is it still some form of degradation? Does the decision lie with the person who's dressing as a slutty firefighter for the night or the people who see her?
I don't really know. There is no real answer to these questions, but I can't help but ask them. The only real barometer is to go by what you feel comfortable with wearing. I was Uh-Huh from Little Rascals on Saturday night (don't worry, we had an Alfalfa too), and wore boys' jeans, a sweater and a hat. I was pretty warm. And comfortable. And I had a great time. Uh huh.