Ummm, No: We Just Like To Pretend We Are Whores For One Night

Catchy title?   It’s an answer to the NY Times’ latest “Room For Debate” question, emphasis mine:

“In her essay in The Times, the author Bess Lovejoy argues that ignoring death “allows us to imagine that our mortal trivialities and anxieties are permanent.” Some of those trivialities and anxieties can be found in our cheeky Halloween costumes, which increasingly seem to be about showing taut and toned skin, rather than it decomposing.

Are we replacing zombie looks with sexy maid and witty high-concept constructs to avoid reminders of death? Or is it time to forget the otherworldly origins of Halloween and just have fun?”

I mean – are you friggin’ kidding me?  Avoiding reminders of death?  Ummm – no  – it’s just about dressing up as a slutty cop for a night to see how it feels.  Or am I wrong, ladies?  I have to admit, I’ve never dressed up as a slutty cop, slutty fireman, slutty garbage girl, slutty pizza maker, slutty poker player, slutty stock trader, slutty blogger, etc.   I don’t feel the need to unleash my inner whore, so maybe I’m mistaken.   Maybe I have it all wrong and your slut-tastic costumes are indeed an attempt to mask your fears of dying…

Quick tangent:  is anyone going as Slutty Hurricane Sandy this year?

Growing up, I tried to set the American record for “number of consecutive years dressed as a vampire.”   I had those 99c plastic fangs that dug into your gums, fake blood, a sweet plastic cape, and I even got to spray-paint my hair black with some hairspray that would almost certainly be outlawed nowadays for its carcinogenic properties.

As an adult, I was never one of those folks who enjoyed dressing up on Halloween.  I was, however, somewhat perplexed by the exponential slut-factor of costumes in the Big City of New York.   Some people know it affectionately as “Dress Like a Whore Day.”   In case you don’t get the “slutty” references above, just take any costume and make it slutty.   Elmo? Sure – you’ll find slutty elmos.   Fire-woman?    There are so many slutty fire-women that if you’re looking for a friend who is a slutty fire-woman you likely won’t be able to find her.   Occasionally we’d be perplexed by an especially revealing costume, and furrow our eyebrows.   “What is she supposed to be?”   I’d ask, and Mrs. Dynamite would respond “Slutty slut.”

I am willing to bet that if you go to the Village Halloween parade in NYC this year, you will see a slutty Obama, a slutty Romney, a slutty Ahmadinejad, a slutty Ipad (probably not a slutty Nook or slutty Kindle Fire though), and even some slutty Honey Boo Boos.

If you really want to, you can read the psychobabble bullshit from the NY Times’ assortment of “experts” on slutty psychology, but I think former slutty costumer Erin Earley sums it up in a few sentences:

“…one thing I know is this: whatever your aesthetic, Halloween is simply a celebration. The magic of Halloween is escaping from your everyday world and living in a fantasy land, wherever that may be. For 364 days of the year, we are expected to fulfill our everyday duties, show up to work in proper attire, and adhere to dress codes in bars and restaurants.

But on Oct. 31, all bets are off. You can wear whatever you want and be whoever you please.”

And dress like a whore if you want to.

I think that was the 19th Amendment.

somewhat related:

Vagina Man


EDIT:  I can’t believe I forgot this tidbit that Mrs. Dynamite mentioned in the comments:  a favorite post-Halloween activity was sitting on our front steps watching the costumed walks of shame.   Seriously amazing…

“I do get a little nostalgic for NYC this time of year…but I personally prefer the day AFTER Halloween. Nothing makes my day like a sighting of a slutty tinkerbell doing the walk of shame.”


ps – I’ve written previously about this same phenomenon as it applies to Las Vegas – Vegas is kinda like Halloween EVERY day – an escape from the real world into a desert fantasy land.

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