Let's Stop The Halloween Shaming, Shall We?

Why we need to stop judging costumes

Let's Stop The Halloween Shaming, Shall We?

Honestly: why judge costumes when you can eat candy?
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October 31st is nearly upon us, and you know what that means: it's time to shame other women based on their Halloween costumes.

Listen, I get it. I have been that person. I have been both that person that "slutted it up" (my words, not anyone else's), and I have been that person who has judged and shamed. I've rolled my eyes at other women's costume choices, and made fun of anyone who "obviously didn't get the point of Halloween."

Well, the point of Halloween is to go out trick-or-treating and get candy from strangers, so if we're still dressing up as adults, we've all missed the point since none of us are doing that. (But I will. Buying my own boxes of tiny chocolate bars has nothing on walking from house to house hoping someone's handing out cans of pop.) Ultimately, if we're judging someone on dressing too "sexy" we should probably judge ourselves for dressing up at all. Because that makes sense, right? I mean, we're grown-ups clinging to a child's holiday. You know? Right guys?

Nope. (Come on.) Fun stops existing as soon as judgement's thrown in, and just like so-and-so shouldn't judge your Al Borland costume, you shouldn't judge their sexy mouse ears (duh). Of course, this is common knowledge -- but that doesn't mean we've stopped doing it. I mean, of course we judge: we judge every day, so why would it stop on Halloween?

Well, to be honest, it sucks. It drains fun from our dress-up holiday, and makes everyone feel terrible. So let's make it simple: judging another woman based on the way she's dressed is the worst on any other day, so Halloween shouldn't be an exception. We don't know what the reason is behind anybody's costume, we don't know where she got it, or how much courage it took her to wear it, and honestly, none of us have the time to really delve into any of that. (Unless you ask me: this year I am going as Lucille Bluth because we have the same hair, and I think she may  be me from the future. But other than that -- do you really care? Of course not. You're busy! You're reading this blog for heaven's sake.) That's the ultimate thing: who cares? Who cares why someone chose to dress up as a sexy goat or a sexy crayon or a sexy blog post. Are they hurting you? Are they telling you that your costume sucks and that you should go home? Are they cancelling Halloween? Have they stolen the candy from neighbourhood chidren and made them watch as they burned it in front of them? Nope. They just wore heels and a short dress. That is it. And it affects you/me ...how?

It doesn't. Like we shouldn't shame someone who wears short skirts and heels on a normal day, we shouldn't shame them on a day reserved for finally finally putting on that Ghostbusters uniform. (Sexy Bill Murray, duh.) It's none of our business. And we all know that when we start repressing people who choose to express themselves in the way they feel best, we're just as bad as sexists who victim blame or "slut shames." And we're better than that. Besides, if we spend all our time judging everybody, we will have absolutely no time to blend into the neighbourhood and try and figure out which house is handing out pop.

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