
Elizabeth Watson
Halloweekend is the one time a year when people put their morals aside and buy in large quantities from SHEIN. Halloween has its own set of rules, expectations and exceptions. If your costume alone is basic, it’s a no. But… if your group costume is basic, it’s cute. Take “Magic Mike” — alone, the outfit is questionable at best, with its dangerously high-cut briefs, precariously low neckties and snapbacks clinging on for dear life. But in a group, this costume becomes something perfectly balanced — a little bit funny, a little bit “Mean Girls” and a lot of ridiculousness. It’s magic, alright. The same goes for angels or devils. Alone, each is a little overplayed. However, with the right duo, it’s perfect. Nice fit for the friends, where one is a little too nice and the other is a little too real.
Yale’s Halloweekend is a scramble. Plan for six costumes if you want to keep up, but know deep down that something will go wrong. It doesn’t matter how thought out or how much time you devoted, plans will go awry. No one wants to be that person whose costume looks too last-minute — but at the same time, the frantic scramble for costumes is half the fun. That Playboy bunny look? Scrap it, someone forgot their ears. Now, we’re doing cowboys, so saddle up and get ready to run around Old Campus scavenging for a last-minute cowboy hat.
Let’s be honest: bad costumes do get more than a couple looks here. Not all last-minute costumes are doomed to failure, but some can look like a kindergartner’s drawing come to life. It’s not so much about the effort as it is about what the costume ends up being. If you’ve got furry ears and shorts? Great, but…what are you? Genuinely, no one can tell. The mystery is more confusing than intriguing. You’ll get more compliments if your costume just barely holds together than if it’s elaborate but makes no sense. If your costume is a disaster, at least make it a memorable one. Worst case scenario? Just go as yourself. Given the way some people act at Yale, “evil freak” is practically an everyday look. Honestly, for some, showing up costume-free might just be the most authentic scare of the night.
Then, of course, there are the differing standards for guys and girls. Girls, for instance, are expected to hit that balance between “not too basic” and “I still feel pretty in this,” whereas guys have the added pressure of humor and creativity. Dressing as a prisoner? Overdone. Police officer? Even more so.
At Yale, there’s an expectation to think on your feet and balance the absurdity with a dash of social awareness. Yes, it’s fun. Yes, it’s chaotic. But above all, it’s about camaraderie — the memories of cobbled-together costumes, unexpected group themes and the mutual understanding that even if your costume is falling apart at the seams, you’ll have new lore to share by Monday.
Halloweekend at Yale is less about nailing the perfect costume and more about diving headfirst into the chaos of it all. It’s not so much about what you are — it’s the chaotic journey of trying to keep it all together. And after a weekend of laughably mismanaged costumes, running around campus for the missing piece and a dozen photos that will live on in social media infamy, you realize that’s what makes Halloween at Yale its own kind of tradition.