If you’re anything like me, TikTok is basically your style mood board, therapist, best friend, and personal assistant all in one. I go there for everything: outfits, new restaurants, existential validation. But from August to October, TikTok has one job: Halloween costume consultant.
My search history becomes extremely unhinged:
“Funny but hot Halloween costume.”
“Girl costumes that aren’t basic.”
“Costume ideas that don’t require spending $80 on Amazon.”
Every video starts to look the same: corset, mini skirt, knee-high boots, animal ears.
And listen… they’re cute! They’re safe! But part of me watches those videos and thinks: Okay, but where’s the plot twist?
All that scrolling still couldn’t prepare me for the costumes I actually saw this year.
Niche or Nothing
Halloween 2025 turned into the Super Bowl of hyper-specific pop culture references. It felt like every costume was a test, and the prize was determining how much of your brain has been rotted by internet memes and a lengthy screen time.
These weren’t just costumes — they were timestamps.
A couple went as the exact paparazzi photo of Summer Roberts and Seth Cohen from The OC — like, down to the awkward yearning gaze they shared on that bench at the pier.
Girls dressed up as Zendaya in that heinous hat moment.
A duo came as the blue-and-black vs. white-and-gold dress meme.
Everywhere I looked, people were digging deep — like digging through my saved folder on TikTok. I felt personally attacked by nostalgia at least seven times.
This year, Halloween wasn’t asking, “What character are you?”
It was asking, “How obscure is your media knowledge?”
Commit to the Costume.
My own costume lineup this year was a chaotic tour through television and movie history: Sue Sylvester from Glee (yes, I yelled “And that’s how Sue C’s it!” multiple times and carried a working megaphone around), Mary Santiago from Another Cinderella Story (Selena Gomez’s cinematic masterpiece), my roommate and I were Maya and Anna from PEN15 (which is uncomfortably accurate if you were once an awkward middle schooler), and Austin Moon from Austin & Ally.
Did anyone immediately know who I was? Debatable.
Did I have the time of my life? Absolutely.
Here’s the thing: a costume hits harder when you commit.
Wigs? Wear them.
Props? Carry them.
Method-acting? Encourage it.
I wore two wigs over Halloweekend. Two. My scalp was sweating but my heart was full. Then I saw someone on TikTok dressed as a Furby and suddenly I felt like I hadn’t tried hard enough.
If someone can spend hours crafting a legitimate, sparkly Furby suit, the least we can do is put on a wig and stay in character.
The Internet’s Inside Joke
The creativity hit a new peak this year because even celebrities committed to the bit.
Demi Lovato dressed up as her own Poot meme. Top tier comedy right there.
And then Kim Kardashian and North dressed as Jay Guapo and Pink Cardigan. I genuinely don’t know how we got here culturally, but I love it.
Halloween didn’t just feel like a holiday this year—it felt like a global inside joke.
We weren’t just dressing up. We were participating in a shared, chaotic, pop culture language.
Why We Love Niche Halloween
Here’s what niche Halloween does that basic Halloween never will: It brings people joy through recognition.
The best part isn’t wearing the costume — it’s that moment when someone across the room squints, points at you, and screams:
“OH MY GOD… ARE YOU SUE SYLVESTER??”
Or when your costume is so specific that only three people get it — but those three people become your best friends for the night.
Niche costumes are interaction generators and photo ops (for the memories of course).
Faith Restored (A Little)
Somewhere between the Furby and the resurrected Poot meme, I realized something:
Halloween is the one night where everyone becomes an artist.
People this past Halloween were funny, clever, nostalgic, chaotic, and unhinged. And honestly? That effort, that creativity, that willingness to be weird in public — it restored a tiny sliver of my faith in humanity.
Just a tiny bit. Let’s not get crazy.
Nonetheless, I hope everyone’s Halloween was safe, spooky, and filled with wigs.