On Halloween, we are not ourselves. For this one night (or three nights, as the case may be for those of us who began celebrating on Thursday), we are free to take on an entirely different persona. We can dress as we wouldn't normally; we can speak as we wouldn't normally; and we can interact with others as we wouldn't normally. We can change our whole identity. This is the power of a costume.
When it comes to Halloween, I have long shared the sentiment expressed in the caddy chick-flick "Mean Girls": It is the one night per year that girls can dress like sluts and be spared any criticism because they are "in costume." Indeed, on Halloween, girls in particular have an uncanny inclination to portray even the most wholesome character as a veritable hooker.
"Mean Girls," however, is a high school movie. So while the mentality seems to carry over to college, coeds tend to make their wardrobe selections much more carefully. High school girls hear the word "costume" and dawn the typical clich?©s: Playboy bunny suits, Hooters waitress shirts and Catholic school girl uniforms inspired by the endlessly tasteless Britney Spears.
College girls bring much more creativity and - dare I say - class to their costumes. In my three years at Tufts, I have found that the sexiest outfits relied less on navels and cleavage and more on the connotations of the characters being portrayed. Last year, for example, my friends and I dressed up as a Brownie troop. In brown shorts, sneakers, wife beaters and hand-made sashes, we were, in my opinion, far from sexy.
Yet, the college-girl-gone-little-girl concept made us an unexpected sex-cess story. Men approached us all night long with lines like, "Hey baby, can I buy a cookie?"
From pirates to magicians to bumble bees, I was delighted to see that this year's trend among college girls was to put a sexy spin on popular children's costumes. I, for one, dressed up as Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz in a blue and white plaid dress, slightly reminiscent of Paris Hilton from her farm days on "The Simple Life."
Most impressive, however, were the guys' costumes. Tufts boys dressed for Halloween with practically the same enthusiasm they displayed when the Red Sox won the World Series. Starsky and Hutch, a Keebler Elf and a strait-jacketed prisoner were among the most thoughtful and elaborate costumes I saw.
But it took a real - or perhaps just really drunk - man to face his peers in a seven-foot tall inflatable penis suit, complete with "the stepchildren" bouncing along at his feet. And unlike in high school, it's the guys that are much more likely to dress in plaid minis and fish net stockings.
But even amid the cuteness, originality and downright ballsiness of so many of the costumes, no Halloween party was without some disappointing (and often distasteful) clich?©s. Typically lame outfits for girls included slutty nurses, French maids and half-naked angels. Likewise, I would have sooner stabbed myself in the eye with my ruby red stiletto than look at another guy dressed as a rapper, cowboy or old-school tennis player.
Nonetheless, I thrilled to see so many Tufts students dressed up. It is refreshing to know that even as we get older, Halloween never does. And while there may not be trick-or-treating anymore, there is eye candy galore. Anything goes on Halloween, so be creative; be sexy; be outrageous; be anything but you.
