Alexa Druyanoff
I beg you to ask yourself why we work ourselves into Halloween madness every year.
As a society, we love the holiday. But I, an individual obviously outside society’s pitiful boundaries, simply don’t understand the hype. Allow me to list some grievances.
The fall festival of all things spooky requires more planning than it should. We spend weeks trying to design the perfect costume, balancing cost-efficiency, warmth and fashion.
Do we want to join an ensemble costume or exist as a standalone? Are we witty or sexy? Are we store-bought or homemade?
These costume questions drive me crazy. I have always simply shirked the responsibility and thrown something together at the last minute, accepting the fierce criticism that comes with that courageous decision.
Why are you so offended by my low-effort costume? Why is it even an exercise in comparison? Wear your ‘stume in peace, and let me wear mine. I don’t care that you and your best friend won costume of the night with your perfectly-executed Blades of Glory duet. If it makes you happy, that’s enough. No need to scoff as you look me up and down and ask, “So, like, what are you supposed to be, anyway?”
Perhaps my opinion is shaped too much by years of disappointing childhood Halloween celebrations.
In the days of trick-or-treating, while my closest friends spent the witching hours hanging out together, I was preoccupied with tagging along with the “cool” group of kids, often resulting in me begging my mom to pick me up. There was the year I showed up as a tennis player when everybody else had coordinated their Purge-themed outfits. Or the year we mobilized too late and missed the prime candy hours. Or the year where somebody made a mean comment about my costume. And so on.
My fondest Halloween memories stem from the unscripted moments that came after I abandoned those ill-fated initial plans. Throwing around candy on the closed-off streets of New York, watching the Charlie Brown Halloween special with two friends or wagering our trick-or-treating loot on games of chess made me far happier than awkwardly following a group around an apartment building.
Even as the holiday shifted away from a candy-seeking treasure hunt into more of a party-based evening in high school, I still found that my favorite memories all occurred after we left our initial shindig — often still with the endgame of candy-wager chess. It begs the question: Why did I spend so long making plans just to enjoy the spontaneity of the post-plan chaos even more?
I actually don’t hate the premise of the night. I’m no Halloween Scrooge. Giving kids candy is amazing. Jack-o’-lanterns and pumpkin pie make me smile.
But I fear we’ve strayed from the spirit. It’s gotten too big. Halloween should be a fun way to subvert our social norms, watch scary movies, cherish pumpkins, spend time with our friends and maybe don a costume. But now the planning, the ‘stumes and the events have superseded all else.
It’s not too late for Halloween to win me over. I’ve got a little Mario and Luigi duo lined up this year. I’m planning to spend the weekend with my friends rather than elbowing into Hallowoads. I’ll be at the YSO Halloween extravaganza. It’s all shaping up to be the year that things turn around.
But I’m not counting on it. Thanksgiving can’t come soon enough.