For me, Halloween is in the same bracket as the Superbowl. Firstly, I don’t give a shit about it. Secondly, I don’t give a shit about whether you give a shit about it. I have no interest in it or affiliation to it, so stop going on about it. Halloween enthusiasts are like vegans; they can’t get through a conversation without bringing it up. ‘What are you doing for Halloween?’ ‘Are you dressing up for the Halloween night out?’ ‘Meat is murder!’ I despair. Do they even know what Halloween is? No, of course they don’t.
Allow me to elaborate.
Halloween, or ‘All Hallows’ Eve’, signals the start of the three-day observance of ‘Allhallowtide’, the time in the liturgical calendar dedicated to remembering the dead. Seriously. That’s it. If you think about it, showing anything more than a passing interest (yes I’m talking to you, ‘favourite holiday of the year’ people) suggests a morbidity that goes beyond a splashing of fake blood and a perchance for wearing false gnashers. It means nothing. Any reasonable person cannot possibly care that much about a night that is a completely redundant use of the word ‘celebration’.
“Showing any more than a passing interest suggests a morbidity that goes beyond a splashing of fake blood and a perchance for wearing false gnashers”
It is surely a night that actually holds little significance to anyone. Well, anybody apart from the businesses whose profits are practically doubled thanks to panicked social climbers scampering around at the last minute and spending £50 on a Mario and Luigi costume, a pathetic attempt at the latest craze of ‘twinning’ with your best friend. Everyone thinks that the girls have it a little easier, that
they can play their customary Halloween role without spending a penny for the privilege. Just draw on some fake whiskers and they’re good to go. However, for a girl to try and find a costume either online or in store that doesn’t have the word ‘sexy’ or ‘naughty’ in front of it is nigh on impossible. I had no idea that cats were heralded as such erotic creatures. Personally, I’ve never really understood the sexualisation of felines as far as females and fancy dress is concerned.
“As appealing as ‘Janine’s Spooky Halloween’ Pres sounds, I won’t be making an appearance”
I’m no prude, but as far as I’m concerned, nobody wants to shag a cat. Of course, the constant Instagram posts of poorly carved pumpkins drive me nuts, but it’s not just the student hype and blatant desire for any occasion to cling onto socially, however tenuous, that frustrates me. What really gets me is that nonparticipation in Halloween is impossible. I can’t go into Sainsbury’s without being met with a face full of hanging, paper spiders or orange bunting. I can’t even pick up a standard Mr Kipling Apple Pie. Everything instore has been given a shameless, Halloween spin. The ‘Fiendish Fancies’ and ‘Chocolate Slime Slices’ sound positively bile-inducing. It wouldn’t surprise me to see a pumpkin flavoured condom hit the shelves this year, not that our friends Mario and Luigi would have any cause to use them.
I honestly couldn’t care less if you love Halloween. By all means, go and have a great night. Just leave me, and every other ‘Halloskeptic’, out of it. As appealing as ‘Janine’s Spooky Halloween Pres’ sounds, I won’t be making an appearance.