This article was originally published in The Courier
Get to your panic stations everybody, Halloween is nearly upon us, the race has begun to clamor for that last pair of Claire’s cat ears and the knives are out (for pumpkin carving… nobody is that desperate for cat ears).But why is it that year upon year we don some hideous polyester costume and sweat it out on Tup Tup’s dance floor? Is it time to lay down our plastic props and put Halloween where Father Christmas and the Tooth Fairy went long ago?
The culmination of months of prep and papier maché all seems worth it when you’re parading your pumpkin costume down Northumberland Street, but two trebles in and the novelty’s worn off. Realistically, you’re stood at the bar, painted bright orange with a circumference of 2 meters; the chances of getting close to that hot guy giving you the eye are running slim…you are literally forced to stand a meter away from him at all times.And even if you’re externally keeping your cool, inside you will undoubtedly be burning up. Don’t even try passing of the ever intensifying heat rash crawling down your arm as ‘part of the look’… nobody’s falling for it. When November 1st arrives, a mere pinch and punch are the least of your worries, your backcombed hair has mattified overnight and that cheap fake blood has left a permanent stain on your neck. And that’s before you’re bank statement arrives along with the realisation that for the cost of one night out you could’ve got yourself a couple of month’s gym membership, or, more realistically, ten subways. From what you remember of the night it was too cold in the queue and too hot in the club, in fact that greasy pizza in the cab on the way home was probably the highlight.
"Is it time to lay down our plastic props and put Halloween where Father Christmas and the Tooth Fairy went long ago?"
So is this the beginning of the end for Halloween antics? Kate Hudson certainly doesn’t think so; no doubt she’ll be planning her annual party with as much fervor as every other year. Her A list guests last October included Katy Perry and Jessica Alba, who, lets be real, probably had personal stylists pick out their thousand dollar costumes. But then again, if we were living it up in LA, we’d probably be able to feign more enthusiasm too, the sticky floors of Sinners just don’t compare.
And that’s just the problem, for as hard as you try and as original as your costume is, when you’re in the middle of the club surrounded by LA wannabe girls in LBDs and ‘scary’ red lipstick, a sinking feeling starts to descend on your stomach. To quote the wise film Angus Thongs and Full Frontal Snogging “you looked soo funny in that Olive costume!” So maybe its time to let it go and drag out your trusty trainers and jeans, I mean what’s more scary than a student that doesn’t feel the need to follow the crowd?!
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