I Suck At Halloween
By Thoughtis
I’ve held many unpopular opinions over the years, but this is one I can’t bite my tongue on for much longer: I hate Halloween.
I dig the haunted houses and how excited kids get; I dig their little costumes and the big ass bags of assorted candy for sale at CVS. The fake cobweb stuff is okay. The horror movie marathons are much welcome. In theory, I should love Halloween, but I can’t. I can’t because I suck at it and must therefore reject it for self-preservation.
Specifically, I suck at costumes. Two years ago, my roommate and I dressed up as contestants from The Price Is Right. Because neither one of us is particularly artistic (and by neither one of us, I mean me) the making of the costumes was sort of a pain in the ass. We didn’t know what to buy, we didn’t know how to use what we eventually bought, both of us became irritated, and by the time we made the goddamn costumes, we didn’t want to go out anymore. (Yes, we tried to throw something together at the last minute, but sometimes Halloween errands take a backseat to things like jobs and mental health.)
So why not buy a costume and call it a day? Because I can think of thousands of ways I’d rather waste my money. I honestly don’t care how other people spend their money; I don’t think I’m better than someone who drops dollars on a Halloween costume. Perhaps I’m broker, or cheaper, but I’m not better. Having invested money into Halloween costumes in the past, and having seen how well they hold up by the end of the night when in my destructive possession, that costume will not live to see another day. Remember doing crafts in school? The teacher put newspaper down so that you wouldn’t destroy the tables, and at the end of the day, the newspaper was full of used Popsicle sticks and glitter and glue? That’s what my Halloween costume looks like at the end of the night, every year, without fail. (Maybe I should dress up as an elementary school craft table?)
I understand that I’m being a total curmudgeon about what should be a fun holiday. I can appreciate that wearing a costume is not like, someone asking me to drink arsenic. I’m just jealous. Some people have the ability to make a unique, eye-catching costume and I’m not one of them. I’m artistically challenged and bitter. What options am I left with? Buy a mass-produced costume that I’ll never wear again? Invest in sexy polar bear garb? Make up a costume based on what I own already and then have to explain that “No, I’m not Steph tonight, I’m actually Steph with cat-eye makeup, black eyeliner on my nose, and um, I’m wearing heels!” (That was my costume last year, by the way.) Who am I fooling, here?
Listen, Halloween people. I love you. Especially those of you who create something that makes the rest of us feel lazy and jealous. I just can’t have another, “What are you being this year?” “Where are we going?” “What are you supposed to be?” conversation. Because my answers to those questions suck and my self-worth is plummeting to new lows with every Halloween that passes. I love you, Halloween people, but I am not one of your tribe. You will not look forward to seeing my costume, you will not be impressed, you will probably not notice me at all. And that’s okay. This night belongs to you, Juno’s Hamburger Phone and Sexy Google + Profile. This night belongs to you.