Britney Spears. Pamela Anderson. Carmen Elektra. What do these beacons of good old-fashioned American ethics have in common? No, not the fact that they competed for wall space with football posters and banners saying things like "Mazel Tov, Brett" on my middle school friends' walls. No, not that they were all endowed by Lord Jesus (or a good plastic surgeon) with a generous bust. What these ladies share is a disdain for the limitations of so-called reasonably concealing, functional clothing only rivaled by aging Brazilian men in Rio. Most importantly, they do not need a holiday as an excuse to show (and if at certain establishments on Webster Avenue, shake) what they mamas gave 'em.
The tradition of carnival began as a means of temporarily alleviating the pressure of rigid social hierarchies. As some might be wont to interpret it, such rigidity can be seen in contemporary society to corporate attire, with Halloween an opportunity to loosen your top button (or just plain take your shirt off). If your normal attire is relaxed, however, it makes no sense to "decompress" with more of the same, particularly since most "sexy" Halloween costumes involve exactly the opposite in some form of restrictive corseting.
For those pragmatists as yet unconvinced, here are some economic considerations one might keep in mind: less material does not always mean fewer dollars spent. As a trip to a lingerie boutique might show us, less material is often more expensive. Agent Provocateur charges $65 for pasties -- those little bits of nipple-covering sequinage most memorably donned by Lil Kim or referred to as "booby tassels" by Adam Sandler in "Big Daddy." The concept of supply and demand is crucial here, too; if I recall correctly, the higher the demand and lower the supply, the more expensive a product will be. As Joanna has already stated, the prevalence of slutty Halloween costumes is nearly unrivaled by more conservative ones, and none of them are really all that cheap. You'll still have to pay $30, plus thigh-highs or fishnets, to wear a "Mad Hatter" costume which, in the absence of your Wonderland companions, makes you look like a leprechaun in spite of the "dead give-away" improper fraction on your hat. On the contrary, less popular, less revealing costumes will be sold at lower prices -- and when was the last time you were privy to a holiday Armadillo sighting?
Another positive side to wearing such a costume is its warmth. Contrary to the ambitions one might have of bringing an alternative outfit to a party in addition to your sexy ensemble, it simply isn't practical. Let's examine your reasons for wearing the costume and bringing this change of clothing:
You wore the outfit to help facilitate some sweet, sweet lovin', or if you're less brazen (or honest), pretend that you do have a "wild" side. Your outfit is designed to be appealing to the widest array of drunken frat boys, which means revealing. You brought the clothes so that, in the event that you succeed in your goal, you do not look like you did -- that is, you do not reek of Morning After Girl. The irony of this is not what concerns me; the issue is that leaving a change of clothing with your jacket at a frat (because you cannot, unless you consider spandex "pants," carry it on your person) would undermine everything you've ever learned about the effects of alcohol on character since your arrival at Dartmouth; people steal. I had my jacket stolen last weekend, and judging by the frequency of "missing item" Blitzes and the growing expertise in crafting subject lines clever enough to stop us from clicking "delete" immediately, (I felt "Justin Timberlake Coming to Dartmouth!!!" was one of the more successful ones), this is not an occurrence unique to me.
If you are still unconvinced, I have one more argument, and it is more of a plea. I love classic gauche, but when people trample on the Disney characters and make to sexify, I'm a little irked. Snow White and Jasmine have given rise to enough unrealistic expectations regarding "happy endings" without adding the promise of potential body-fluid release into the mix. While the other costumes generally figure into conventional role-playing activities, hence their mass appeal as Halloween costumes, I've never heard of anyone saying, "Baby, baby listen, it would be really great if you could dress up as sexy Mulan." So why do it? And no, don't pretend you're being ironic when you do.
I do not condemn so-called racy attire in and of itself. I condemn it when it is used in conjunction with a consumer holiday so that Halloween becomes a cop-out not unlike that which alcohol becomes after a bad hookup: "I was drunk;" "It's Hallo-we-een!" They might as well be interchangeable. Shame on us, ladies. If we're going to wear something that attempts to make ours waists Victorian-era thin and our breasts plastically perky and buoyant, there is no reason we need a consumer holiday as an excuse. You are only going to have this body for so long, and waiting for that paltry one day a year to show it off is a waste. Britney doesn't need to wait for a special holiday to not wear panties. Simply by failing to put them on, she makes that day a holiday. While I do not endorse going commando, I do recommend asking yourself a few questions before you go out to buy that Strawberry Shortcake or sexy Dora the Explorer costume: "What is it that makes Mulan hot?" "Am I really a rabbit just by putting on ears?" "Is spandex really acceptable as pants?" Sit on it for a while, and I think you'll find that you don't need a consumer holiday as an excuse to show off your goods.
Stdney is a writer for The Mirror. She watched "Mean Girls" on repeat to research this article.
