Ho Ho Halloween

Nicole’s Niche

The double standard of dressing up

“Ho, ho, ho” isn’t just a phrase reserved for the winter holidays. It seems to me that it starts getting thrown around quite a bit in October, just as soon as female Halloween costumes hit store shelves.
From the time us women hit our late teens, we’ve got a bit of a catch-22 on the costume front. If we dress in any of the majority of costumes provided to us by stores, we’re labeled “slutty” or “skanky” for wearing a revealing outfit.
We’re hard-pressed to find less revealing alternatives because, frankly, most costume outlets don’t offer them.
Don’t get me wrong, I’ll acknowledge that there are commercial Halloween costumes that objectify men. “Muscle man” or “lifeguard” costumes rely on big biceps and bared abs to attract interest.
To me, the difference between sexualized male and female costumes is the necessity and believability. In actuality, male lifeguards and bodybuilders are selectively clad for practicality, not sexuality.
In contrast, anything and everything is made sexy for women. Sexy clownfish, sexy superheroes, sexy pirates, you name it, costume companies have made it sexy for women.
The problem is that none of these things are inherently sexy or scantily clad, and their sexualization is completely unnecessary. Why is it that women have to have such a hard time finding regular costumes rather than their “sexy” or “sassy” counterparts?
Of course, no one is forcing women to wear these costumes. But what about those of us who are comfortable with wearing a more revealing outfit?
These women are instantly labeled any number of synonyms for the word “adulterer” and passed off as attention-seeking bimbos. I have trouble believing these outfits are truly as tasteless and offensive as criticism implies, considering they’re pushed in just about every major store in America.
Women are punished with name-calling and wrongful judgment if we buy into the sultry Halloween stereotype, and we’re also punished if we choose to reject revealing costumes because we’re essentially excluded from the festivities altogether.
Regardless of whether a woman feels most comfortable showing off some skin, covered completely from head to toe, or some variation in between, I hope we can all start showing more respect for the decisions of adult women.
Unfortunately, short of learning to sew our own outfits or apply makeup on a semi-professional level, most women have to make do with what we’re offered.
This year, maybe I’ll go as a woman who isn’t interested in playing into society’s sexist games. Now that’s a scary thought!
Nicole Blanchard is a junior majoring in Mass Communication.