I’m 26 years old, and yet I had two costumes for Halloween weekend.
And I don’t even like Halloween very much.
On Friday at work I dressed as a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle. I was Michelangelo, for obvious, husband-related reasons. My entire team dressed up and we actually won a contest for Best Cube Decoration. We made our cubicle aisle into a sewer.
Allow me to illustrate:
That is a pizza box on the right. We were detailed. And that is why we are the proud owners of a $100 gift card to Chili’s. Yes, Chili’s.
We quickly did some research to discover the Chili’s gift card would also work at Macaroni Grill or Maggianos. Needless to say, we were all relieved.
A few things to note:
1. I have nunchucks.
2. I have a cardboard shell.
3. Splinter is in life-size poster form.
Clearly you can’t win contests by doing things half-way.
On Saturday evening Mike and I went to two parties, and I was dressed as a banana. Mike was a sock monkey. We both thought this was hilarious until we showed up at the first party and we were the only people in costume.
Later some other people showed up in costume, but I hardly consider a kitten-ears headband a costume when I am literally inside a polyester banana.
As we were driving to the second party, it occurred to me that this humiliation might happen again. Not in the same way, since we knew everyone at the next event would be in costume, but in the sense that my costume was decidedly funny, and I knew every other woman’s costume would be decidedly whorish.
After we parked, I turned to Mike in the car and said, “I’m afraid.”
“Of everyone being ‘the sexy something’ and me being the not-even-remotely attractive fruit.”
He didn’t hesitate, “You need to walk in there and OWN IT. Your costume is hilarious and so much more fun than the cliché “hot nurse” or whatever the girls are wearing tonight. OWN IT.”
So that’s what I did. I walked in and struck a pose and people totally responded. They laughed, and I realized that was much more fun than looking trampy on Halloween.
This isn’t a judgement on those who look sexy on Halloween — it’s totally cultural and virtually everyone does it. I just discovered that men don’t corner the market on silly rather than slutty.
In fact, you could argue that my costume was a little sexy-banana-ish, considering I was wearing black leggings and knee-high boots. However, when one realizes my costume came from Pottery Barn Kids, it loses its sex appeal significantly.
Now that I know I am no longer afraid to be a food paired with an animal, the possibilities are endless. Horse and carrot? Cow and grass? Elephant and peanut?
Bring it on.