To all the women running around half-naked for Halloween:
Slapping on your cutest bra and panty set or a tight bodysuit and pairing it with stripper heels, fishnet stockings and enough glitter to make Mariah Carey gag and then topping it off with a pair of wings and/or some animal ears does not a costume make. You know what that makes you? Completely uncreative. And sweetie? You come off as a slut.
Now, I know. I know. You're doing it for attention. But the kind of attention you're going to draw is going to be from frat boys too blitzed out of their minds from Oktoberfest lagers to recognize you as anything more than a slutty bumblebee. (Emphasis on the "slut" part) Or lecherous, creepy older men who just like to leer at anything with legs. Frankly I don't know which one is worse. (Though the frat boys do tend to grow up a little once they leave college. And age about ten year.) So is it really worth it?
I'm all for the power of expression. All for it. I myself adore fishnet stockings and I bust them out occasionally. I do not, however, pair them with only a thong and some masking tape and call it a costume. I live in the Midwest. We have weather. It's borderline psychotic to do that, in my book. More than that, though, it's uncreative. And this, in my world, is worse than coming off as slutty. Really? You didn't have anything else in your house that you could have used to put together a costume? No shirts you could have cut up, paired with leggings, a scrunchy and crazy eyeshadow to be an 80s groupie? No fishnets, cute skirt, tank top, and blanket that could double as a cape to become your own unique superhero? You couldn't take the time to invest in a $4 makeup kit to do yourself up as zombie you? Really? REALLY? You don't have to spend gobs of money; all you really need to do is invest a little time. By merely picking up a pair of angel wings and slatering yourself silly with glitter and calling yourself a Victoria's Secret Angel (the official costume of every Michigan State freshmen, so it seems) you're really telling the world that not only do you not care if you're objectified, but that you have no intelligence to put forth into celebrating one of the most festive nights of the year either. That, to me, is spookier than any of the ghost stories or monster movies that are abundant at this time of year.
So this is my plea, to girls around the country: plan early. Put the underwear down and instead grab a couple of kids books and start brainstorming your costume early. I've seen a few Waldos lurking my campus and I thought each of them were brilliant and beautiful. I heard about a student dressed as Carmen San Diego who rocked a fedora and trenchcoat and lurked in the background of people's pictures as a fun way to celebrate her character. Some students who didn't want to spend money swapped jewelry and various wardrobe items, then styled each others' hair and piled on the makeup to become a group of cougar housewives. Myself? I purchased a comfy tracksuit, cut the crap out of a cheap blonde wig and ran around calling people "sloppy babies" as the one and only Sue Sylvester. I've never been called brilliant so many times in my life. If Lady Gaga can wear a dress MADE OF MEAT to an awards show, then I'm pretty sure any woman in America can come up with a costume that consists of more than some cute underthings.
I'm just sayin'.