The Rhode Less Traveled: Less Halloween

Halloween is a lot. Ten years ago, that phrase was simply used to describe to your friends on the bus the details of your trick-or-treating adventure. The house on the corner gave “a lot” of Snickers, while the house on the cul-de-sac gave “a lot” of sour candy and gummies. You ended the night with “a lot” or even “a ton” (depending on which neighborhood you terrorized) of candy. This all-powerful adjective was a catch-all, a word tossed between classrooms and across lunch tables, unifying children across the nation on November 1st.

College Halloween is also “a lot,” but trust me, the extra calories aren’t coming in the form of Milky Ways. In higher academia, Halloween is a lot of parties. A lot of alcohol. A lot of costumes. And a lot of skin. A lot more than I wanted to see.

The innocent, enthusiastic bliss has been stripped from the phrase, adding a sort of gravity that can only be associated with over-the-top drama and unwanted hook-ups.

So for this year, I’ve decided to embrace the antonym: less. Here are the top five Halloween things I want to see less:

1). Less costume drama.

“Omigod, she’s dressed as Britney Spears. Like, seriously? Did she not know I was going to be Britney Spears? I totally told her in the dorm last week that I was wearing this costume and now everyone is going to think that I copied her and that’s simply not okay! That, that, bit-“

Here’s the thing: your costume probably wasn’t that original anyways. In fact, there are probably five other Britney Spearses, or cowgirls, or Lady Gagas, or Tinkerbells wandering around the party. They didn’t steal your idea. You all read it from the same Cosmo article. So rather than throwing a hissy fit about it and ruining the nights of everyone unfortunate enough to be standing near you, just throw on your best pop-star grin and bear it. Heck, maybe even pose for a group photo. Which brings me to my next point…

2). Less pictures.

For some reason, college girls treat Halloween as a free pass to take literally hundreds of photos of themselves and everyone with whom they happen to come in contact. They think, “hey, I don’t look like myself, let’s document it!” and proceed to all become amateur models, pouting and posing and jumping (seriously, has that ever worked?) and acting and kissing and smirking and…

Yes, you look really cute. Yes, your costume is super fabulous. Yes, I love how “in character” you are. But honestly, I didn’t really need to see the fifty photos of you and your best friends (that are currently spamming my newsfeed) to prove it. Let’s cap it closer to ten, ladies.

3). Less rap music.

DJs, we need an intervention. I love getting my grind on as much as the next girl. Nothing like vigorously swaying with someone whose identity is a bit of a mystery… But Halloween presents a bit of a difficulty. 3D costumes, body paint, polyester – it’s a rash waiting to happen. The last thing I want to do is rub all up on someone wearing the same thing. Heck, with all that synthetic material and friction at a hot and sweaty frat party might even be a fire hazard in itself.

For this one weekend of the year, how about some old school? I’m talking Backstreet Boys and Spice Girls, Journey and Pat Benatar. Sing-along, elbow-bopping classics. Sure, maybe it doesn’t lead as smoothly to a dance floor make-out, but who really wants to kiss a guy wearing costume make-up anyways?

4). Less orange food coloring.

Trust me. That bottle of dye you’ve just dumped into the frat punch has not convinced me that a). it’s pumpkin juice like you keep insisting or b). that it’s any more appealing than it was a week ago. You’ve simply taken your toxic combinations of all the cheap liquor from the convenience store and turned it into something that allows you to make bad decisions faster while turning your teeth orange. Believe it or not, I’d rather waste my calories on a pumpkin spice latte that I KNOW won’t send me to the hospital, thank-you-very-much.

5). Less of you.

Not that I don’t like you. I do like you. As a person. What I don’t like is the AMOUNT of you I’m seeing. You know, your whole midriff. And upper thigh. And half of your cleavage. We have Mean Girls to blame for this one. The day Cady Heron uttered the fateful words “In girl world, Halloween is the one night a year when a girl can dress like a total slut and no other girls can say anything about it,” was the day Halloween became the favorite holiday of all males ages 14-35. Girls across the nation battle, challenging themselves to be colder, bolder and naked-er than the other females at the party. Cute or funny costumes have been replaced by tenuous wisps of fabric, strategically placed to allow for the tiniest bit of modesty. You’re only letting the boys win! This is exactly what they want you to do!

Let’s throw ‘em off this year. Comfort over crotch-shots. Warmth over waist-bearing-shirts. Anyone down for a full-length bunny suit?