The Fat Diaries: Why are Halloween Costumes So Revealing?
October is upon us, and it’s once again that glorious time of year–the time to make our kids finally nail down a decision on what they want to be for Halloween. They might be waffling between one super-hero or another, or they might want to be several characters mashed into one. I finally got little girl to agree to a fairy princess since she wanted to be both a fairy and a princess. The boy however seems to have a different answer for every time I ask him. I’ve heard a ghost, a pirate, Spider-Man, Batman, and Ponyo. Riiiight. Eye-patches cost 99¢ at Walmart and we have a tri-corner hat from Montpelier. He’s going as a pirate.
And then there’s me. Usually my college buddies try to get a Halloween party going. We watch horror films and eat candy and just talk while wearing uncomfortable costumes. (I’ll do an article on candy in a week or two). The last few years the parties have had a theme, which made it easy to follow since I didn’t have to get mine out of a package from the costume store. Two years ago the theme was “movies” and Joe and I went as Jay and Silent Bob – guess which one I was? We won the contest that year, though I will die of embarrassment if any photos leak out. The theme the following year was “sci-fi.” I donned a ginger wig and a toy gun and we went as Agents Scully and Mulder. Again, no big fuss.
I didn’t want to admit my true relief behind these costumes, which was that I didn’t have to buy a dowdy, plus size costume from the costume store. The plus size costume section was always the bane of my holiday season. All the costumes in that section were glorified vinyl sacks with no definition. Some were touted as “sexy” plus-sized costumes. Which were only sexy to those people who found flowery modesty skirts on mature bathing suits “sexy.” I hated them all, and I was especially excited this year, because with my last size change this year (an additional 15 lbs lost) I was finally out of the plus sizes and into (what I’m ashamed to call) the “normal sizes.” Yeah, I wish there was a better word than “normal” but I’m dashed if I know what that is. (Typical?)
Anyway, I wandered to the back of the costume store, firmly resolved to find an awesome costume of my dreams, and upon viewing the wall, my heart sank. There was nothing I could conceivably wear. Almost EVERY costume was sleeveless, low cut, and had adjoining skirts or shorts that were cut to crotch length. (Wait – isn’t this holiday supposed to be at the end of October? Are we wearing parkas over these?) It looked more like a Frederick’s of Hollywood catalogue than a costume store’s. They didn’t even try to hide the fact. Every costume name was preceded by the adjective “sexy.” Sexy Devil, Sexy Cat, Sexy Gangster, Sexy Vampire, Sexy NUN? And the airbrushed models wearing this, were all size 2’s or lower, showing off their bronze hairless legs and silicone enhanced cleavage. They didn’t care that some mousy cubicle girl or a mom hosting a costume party for seven-year-olds might want to wear something less… um… cheap-looking (which is ironic because most of these costumes were $60).
The real sting was that I would actually fit into these costumes but I wouldn’t look good! Don’t get me wrong, I love my new body. I love that I look thinner and healthier than ever these days, but I do NOT have legs worthy of an insurance policy courtesy of Gillette and I don’t really feel like showing them off to everyone. Over the years I’ve been learning to dress myself to my best advantage. I’ve learned how to make my short waist look longer, I’ve learned what kind of neckline best shows off my neck and my bust. I’ve also learned what NOT to wear, like chunky belts and Capri pants. I found out that no matter what weight I’m at, I can still look sexy. I’ve also learned what I never realized in high school and college: that there’s a difference between sexy and tasteless. Looking at the naughty school-girl costumes and goth-looking corset dresses I felt uncomfortable. These weren’t sexy costumes, they were tasteless costumes. These costumes were selling artificial fantasies that for most women would not come true. I’ve seen them, you’ve seen them: the sad women who cram themselves into these pieces of plastic and tulle because for one day a year they’re allowed to look like a street walker without feeling guilty. Some can pull it off. Most of them can’t, and it’s depressing as hell to watch them pretend to be comfortable and confidant, when most of them are really feeling vulnerable and kind of stupid.
Oh, sure, maybe it’s sour grapes. Maybe I wish I had a little more courage to not care what people think of me, but I honestly would rather wear a costume that shows the best kind of sexy I can be, not just generic sexy that fits only a few lucky women.
While writing this article and looking for pictures, I’ve found out that a lot of Halloween chains offer women’s costumes of the non-sexy variety (most of which were pretty yawn-inducing) but the majority of them are only available online. I never have much luck with online clothes-shopping since the sizes are all so arbitrary, so I’m going to steer clear. If you walk into an actual store, however, be prepared to face the usual barrage of “sexy” nonsense. I’m thinking this year I’ll go with the usual stand-by costume. Black lipstick and plastic vampire fangs. Still, I got to say: I LOVE this Tippi Hedron costume.
