Every year, when the end of October emerges, wicked is wholesome, gory is standard, slutty is sweet, and dead is alive. As these words take on new meanings and traits, so do we.
Halloween is a time for costumes, candy, tricks, and treats – when homey neighborhoods become bustling ghost towns of familiar faces we sometimes can’t recognize. But even more so, the holiday is an opportunity for us to trade in our regular selves for another facade that we become for the night. When the time comes to start planning for Halloween, an initial question we ponder is what to be. Countless hours and dollars are spent in preparation, and then suddenly, it’s October 31st: Sun down, jack-o-lanterns lit, candy bought, masks on. Let the frightening festivities begin.
The haunting beauty of Halloween lies in the occasion’s visual significance – in our made-up, done-up appearances. For that night and the wee hours of the morning that follow, we transform into something out of the ordinary – and *poof* reality fades into the darkness. When we show up to bars and parties dressed up (or down), there is no need to explain or justify our looks, because all who participate have a hall-pass to be whatever they want to be; on this night, it seems that everyone comes out as something they aren’t.
From this perspective, Halloween is liberating. Beneath the Hollywood blood and sacks of rainbow candy, a peculiar opportunity lies that we all seize, knowingly or even unknowingly, when we dress up. This night in particular offers a space for freedom, an alternate world that we craft, run, and temporarily escape into, enabling us to be whatever we want to be.
So, with that, on Halloween, who are we? It seems that the truth behind this question is the most chilling aspect of the occasion: how we willingly express ourselves visually is telling of the people we are beneath the masks and under the makeup. Perhaps we delve into the realm that we need to escape into, to shamelessly become one with our authentic selves that we might normally conceal. And at other times, we become the complete opposite of our regular selves, to seek release from our ordinary personas. Life is cyclical, and so is Halloween each year – but our experiences (and our escapes) on this occasion are subjectively distinctive.
Wicked, gory, and slutty alike, our decided appearances ultimately stem from within us, from our underlying, uniquely personal intentions and points of view. And whether our personas for the night are bizarrely mystical and outlandish, or rooted in reality, the choice is ours. Perhaps, therefore, Halloween is not just an eerily festive memorial of the dead, but also a celebration of being alive, and having the power to decide who we are (or aren’t) in this life.
