2008 Woodie Awards
RSSHalloween, not whoroween
By Chelsey Tolerico
Issue date: 10/30/07 Section: Opinion
My first Halloween my parents decided to dress me up as a pumpkin. Terribly original, I know. Since then I've been a Hershey kiss covered in aluminum foil, a bunch of grapes (I actually dressed in green from head to toe, my mom pinned green balloons to my clothing, and I sported a "stem" hat…needless to say by the end of the night I was a pretty sparse bunch of grapes), a witch with a fake mole, a baby with pigtails and a bum with a fake mustache.
I remember in sixth grade when all of the girls in my class were dressing like hippies for the school Halloween parade, a march around the perimeter of the building lasting maybe 28 minutes that was the highlight of everyone's year. The fact that we all chose to dress like this was indicative of the fact that we were, "growing up too fast," according to my teachers. I had a tie-dyed tank top and matching headband, big gold hoop hearings, and tattoo peace symbols drawn all over my body with magic marker. I debated hard and long about letting my belly-button show, thinking letting any of the boys in my class see my inny would be too scandalous. When my mom put some lip liner on me before I left the house to trick-or-treat, I felt like the coolest girl in the world.
If only I could have fast-forwarded seven years to Halloween at college. Somehow college women can make every costume sleazy and disgusting. If you had told me in sixth grade that dressing like a firefighter was sexier than a midriff-showing hippy in ripped jeans, I probably would have laughed at you through my lusciously lip-lined mouth.
But in college, firefighters are basically prostitutes. Apparently leather corsets and black fishnets can be added to any costume. Umm, what? Last time I checked, butterflies are cute and adorable, they don't have boobs hanging out, bouncing all over the place and they certainly don't wear skintight skirts with lacy thongs protruding out the top. I thought butterflies were classy insects. When you can buy your entire Halloween costume at Victoria's Secret, you know times have changed. When you're substituting a black lace thong for butterfly wings or antenna, you have a problem. When people have to ask you what you're dressed up as because you look like you're about to go pole dancing, you should be embarrassed, not batting your eyelashes like it's a compliment.
I remember in sixth grade when all of the girls in my class were dressing like hippies for the school Halloween parade, a march around the perimeter of the building lasting maybe 28 minutes that was the highlight of everyone's year. The fact that we all chose to dress like this was indicative of the fact that we were, "growing up too fast," according to my teachers. I had a tie-dyed tank top and matching headband, big gold hoop hearings, and tattoo peace symbols drawn all over my body with magic marker. I debated hard and long about letting my belly-button show, thinking letting any of the boys in my class see my inny would be too scandalous. When my mom put some lip liner on me before I left the house to trick-or-treat, I felt like the coolest girl in the world.
If only I could have fast-forwarded seven years to Halloween at college. Somehow college women can make every costume sleazy and disgusting. If you had told me in sixth grade that dressing like a firefighter was sexier than a midriff-showing hippy in ripped jeans, I probably would have laughed at you through my lusciously lip-lined mouth.
But in college, firefighters are basically prostitutes. Apparently leather corsets and black fishnets can be added to any costume. Umm, what? Last time I checked, butterflies are cute and adorable, they don't have boobs hanging out, bouncing all over the place and they certainly don't wear skintight skirts with lacy thongs protruding out the top. I thought butterflies were classy insects. When you can buy your entire Halloween costume at Victoria's Secret, you know times have changed. When you're substituting a black lace thong for butterfly wings or antenna, you have a problem. When people have to ask you what you're dressed up as because you look like you're about to go pole dancing, you should be embarrassed, not batting your eyelashes like it's a compliment.
