Oh hey there Halloween! When did you get here? Better question, where the eff do you get off? Yeah you heard me, you smug holiday chameleon. Why is it that every year you seem to think you’re a bigger and better holiday than you were the year before? Running around, all hopped up on pixie stix, like you own the place. Someone needs an attitude check.
When I was in elementary school, your sole purpose was to let kids dress up as their favorite character and eat as much candy as possible. Those were the good old days. Clicking down the street in home-made ruby slippers, leaving a trail of red glitter like Hansel and Gretel’s disco tranny cousin, and sorting out the candy that could be opened and re-closed since it was “probably poisoned.” Thank you mom for that crucial life lesson- everyone knows that Tootsie Rolls are nothing more than a vehicle for neighborhood-kid-killing poison.
Then before I knew it Halloween wasn’t about candy anymore, it was about a “candy” of the Mandy-Moore-song variety. Bam! 8th grade hit and from what I could tell the most popular costume was “Statutory Rape Bait.” To this day I don’t understand how girls in my class made it out of the house dressed like they did for Halloween. My parents would have had a kanipsh.
Now in my early 20’s, it seems like my options for a costume are depressingly limited. Unless I make something from scratch- I basically have a choice between “Slutty [insert blue collar job here]” or a Giant M&M. Awesome. What’s doubly awesome, is that thanks to this plethora of costumes to pick from, the Halloween-powers-that-be have unwittingly divided all women in America into 4 categories:
1. a young slut
2. a mom, a spinster or fat
3. a mom/spinster or fatty that still tries to fit into the costumes meant for group one
4. Young, non-repulsive girls that don’t want to walk around in their underwear, yet don’t want to wear the giant M&M costume, ala group 2.
All my ladies in group #4 can I get an effing AMEN?! Every year, I find myself searching for the elusive “fourth group costume” to no avail. So here’s to all the girls repping the 4th group as Robots, Giant Pieces of Bacon and Grapes. Sure we slaved over our glue guns and sewing machines for hours just to look like a kindergartner’s art box exploded on our AmericanApparel tank and leggings – but it’s sure as hell better than a slutty cop.
Happy Halloween