Once upon a time, when I was young, na’ve and dressed as a fairy princess in my spare time, Halloween was a magical holiday.
It promised buckets of candy, a costume parade through my elementary school hallways and an extended bedtime. Oh yes. I stayed up until at least 10 p.m. back in those days – on a school night.
The next day, my Catholic parents would bring me to an All Saints Day celebration at our church, where I would be dressed up as Mary, Elizabeth or Catherine – no matter what saint I was portraying, the costume for each was identical. Let’s face it, carrying around a stuffed lamb didn’t make me any more identifiable as Therese of the infant Jesus.
This year, I’m not going to make it to the All Saints Day mass (sorry, Mom and Dad), and I’m afraid trick-or-treating isn’t an option. Not to say that I wouldn’t enjoy throwing a sheet over my head and pounding on my neighbors’ doors for miniature candy bars, but I think I’m over the height limit.
My Halloween celebration options are pretty basic this year. There’s the wide variety of alcoholic venues – costume parties, bars, etc. I could skip on down to Frenchman Street and get lost in the hullabaloo of ghosts and goblins. But one thing is pretty much guaranteed wherever I end up – I will find myself lost in a sea of slutty nurses, cops, cat women, firefighters, Catholic school girls and French maids.
I’m not sure where the tradition of whoring oneself out for Halloween began, but it sure wasn’t around when I dressed as a Notre Dame cheerleader at age six. Even in high school, I attended Halloween parties as an angel, a cat and a devil, but my costumes were all rated PG. What happened? Have college females always used Oct. 31 as the night to embrace their inner tramp? Or did “Mean Girls” spark this phenomenon?
My once-high hopes for Halloween fun have gone down the toilet. I tried decorating the front of my house with orange lights to get into the spirit, but they were stolen by some delinquent in the middle of the night. A house down the street, once home to a yard full of smiling jack-o-lanterns, now serves as a graveyard for smashed pumpkin remains. The hooligans are out in full swing, skipping the treats and heading straight for the tricks.
As we get older and wiser, the appeal of candy corn and haunted houses begins to fade, and we look to bigger and bolder outlets for Halloween celebration, ditching the Snickers bars for tequila shots and trading our white sheet ghost costumes for fishnet stockings and bikini tops.
I wish I could say that I will abstain. I will not be sucked into the cyclone of binge-drinking, pumpkin-smashing, fishnet-wearing coeds this Oct. 31.
But what other night of the year can I dress up as a fairy princess and not be laughed at? I don’t have the power to resist.
