As I sit at home, on All Hallows’s Eve, comforted by the low, humming buzz of my own excitement for the glorious occasion set to arrive tonight, I realize – it is due time I write an official love letter to Halloween. A grade 3, prepared at home, pencil scrawled on a torn piece of paper – love letter.
Though other holidays hold an equally beloved spot in my heart, the love I feel for you is quite another beast. Your candy corn, your pumpkins, your skull and crossbones – you had me at ‘Boo’! There is no feeling quite like the one you experience as you’re preparing yourself for Halloween night. A buzzing excitement combined with the unsettling, and eerie qualities bestowed upon your psyche by a cold chill that blows through dead leaves or a cloud-veiled moon that leaves you covered in ‘goose pimples’ (look, each one a memory). As you apply those faux fangs, blood, and equally faux acrylic nails, you just know, this night is unlike all others.
Typically in your 20’s, preparing oneself for a night out entails picking a flattering ensemble, perfecting one’s coif, and modestly applying a light film of Sephora products to your face. Not on Halloween my friends. On Halloween your make-up bag is occupied with face paint, faux lashes, animal spots, and alien antennae. Your usual circle of friends should hopefully now be a group of unfamiliar faces. So-and-so’s baby blues have been replaced with blood shot lenses, whasshername’s perfectly straight locks have now been arranged into a structurally sound rats nest atop her head. The typical array of LBDs, skinny jeans and cool new tops have instead been replaced by pieces that are more fitting to the characters your pals have adopted for the evening – a floor length fur coat, a pointy black hat, and unreasonably tight, gold lamé pants among the mix.
And the movies – OHHHH THE MOVIES – the creepy, the hilarious, and the 90’s cornball classics. A perfectly curated month of cinematic offerings from greats like Tim Burton, countless Hocus Pocus screenings, and warm fuzzy feelings brought to you by Sandra Bullock and Nicole Kidman – ain’t nothin’ better.
Finally, and this can’t be overlooked, you are the one holiday where a sacred dichotomy exists – tricks and treats. Not only is it completely acceptable to gorge on mini-sized Mars Bars, and handfuls of other sugary treats, but it’s just as reasonable to have one too many ‘poison apple martinis’ and trick fellow partygoers into believing that the British accent you’ve settled on for the evening is 100% authentic.
Tonight when I’m teasing my hair to oblivion, carefully applying cream based paints and artful globs of blood to my face, know that it’s for you. It’s all for you Halloween.
Header image: My So-Called Life