October’s winding down, the leaves are crisping, and school is kicking my ass. It’s like a fat, freckled bully shoving a nerd against the wall and stealing his lunch money in third grade. My room is also littered with tissues and cough drop wrappers. I’m told that my raspy transvestite voice is sexy and that I should appreciate it. I do, though I’d rather be through with the hacking up of my lungs. Seriously, kids, do not sit next to me in class.
But on the bright side, it’s Halloween tomorrow, and I will for sure be dragging my slightly dying self out the door. Rain or shine. Because I’m always down when there’s free candy up for grabs and I enjoy dressing up. Halloween is essentially the biggest themed party there is, and this is a prime opportunity to be completely ridiculous. Oh yes. It‘s going down.
Halloween just keeps getting better as I grow up, especially now that my parents aren’t around to “inspect” (read: steal) the candy I worked so hard to collect on the trick-or-treat hunt. Maybe it’s also because I used to be subjected to KFRC (Bay Area kids know what I’m talking about) by the parental units and had to hear the Monster Mash every 20 minutes on the radio back in the day. It’s the kind of thing that reminds you Christmas and all its overplayed music is just around the corner. Lastly, I’ve found that with growing up comes a bajillion more options. As an 8-year-old girl, the only costumes I would ever consider working with were an angel, ballerina, or witch.
But then I got to be a big kid and watched Mean Girls and discovered all the glory of the skank rule. A wise soul (OK, just a soul) once said to me that you can make anything slutty – slutty nun, slutty grandma, slutty librarian. It’s just a way of life, and if you theoretically only get four shots to flush your cares away and get away with downright scandalous attire on Halloween, why not be a fembot or French maid #938475? I can’t say I haven’t wondered how some costumes could be made slutty. Like a Dr. Seuss character or a ghost or Darth Vader.
Since I’m a Catholic school survivor, skanky costumes used to be completely off the table. I have to say that it forced us to be a little more creative. I sincerely remember some of the cutest costume ideas stemming from that-things like the Jackson 5, Disney princesses, a bed bug and the kid it bit. It was all for fun, but it was a different, more silly, innocent kind of fun.
And of course the first thing I did once I got out of there was find myself a Hooters shirt, throw it on, and do the Russell Walk. As tempting as it may be for some of you to yell at the half-naked girls who’ll be walking down the streets tomorrow night, I ask that you be nice. And refrain. Cause that has been and probably will be me. It’s just part of the fun that comes with the holiday. Don’t be a hater, be a skank too! And if you’re a man, be a man skank! Mad props if you can pull off a Tarzan loincloth or your girlfriend’s new lingerie that she probably paid a fortune for. But you have to wear something, anything, because if you’re streaking you’re just being cheap. Don’t get me wrong, I’m completely pro-streaking (and pretty cheap myself), but you’re supposed to be something you’re not. Anything you were minted with does not count.
There’s a time and place for everything, and now that there are no longer faculty members threatening to detentionize me about my skirt length, I might as well boogie with the rest. Cause this is my last legit excuse to do it for a year – or at least until another Heaven n‘ Hell party comes up in rotation.
MICHELLE RICK will split her trick-or-treat candy with the best slutty Tweedle Dee/Tweedle Dum costume she sees. E-mail her at firstname.lastname@example.org if you think you’ve got a shot.