Rabbit Write

Annabelle River recently wrote a brilliant blog post, defending my favorite holiday, Dress-Like-A-Whore-Day– AKA Halloween. And I am right there with her. Hating on the spray-tanned “slutty” Disney Princesses, Playboy Bunnies and naughty nurses has become Internet feminism protocol, and quite frankly, I’m yawning.

It’s just too easy, lame and doesn’t seem well thought out to eye-roll the multitude of sexy costumes. Halloween is the one holiday that celebrates naughtiness, it has become the one night where sex, that beautiful act that remains repressed and stigmatized in our culture, becomes celebratory, or even just normal! Women in “naughty” costumes — at least to me — seem to be allowing themselves to live out their fantasies for one night. While they may go back to sexual repression after their slutty outfit is out for a groggy walk of shame on November 1st, I am still howling at the moon because sexuality is unabashedly on full display for one night!

Many of the Internet Feminist blogs, like Jezebel, Feministing, and so on have already written their tired anti-slutty costume posts for the year, and a common thread seems to be that they just find these costumes “unoriginal.”  Because you actually see so many truly original costumes on Halloween? Un-slutty vampires, witches and fairy costumes are just as pervasive and cliched. This excuse doesn’t hold up, so why are we so afraid of/angered by sexy costumes?

I only did the slutty Halloween outfit once, and I have to say my exhibitionist-lite experience felt empowering. My roommate and I were going to a gigantic house party and I was on a mission. From my closet, I pulled together a last minute costume to match my libidinous-mood. A pink deep v-neck tank with a pink lacy bra popping out , a pink tu-tu pulled just high enough for my pink boy-short panties to show and silver ballet flats. I was a slutty-ballerina, obviously.

My mission would be completed. I think I lost count at how many people I’d kissed after number ten, and this was exactly what I had set out to do. My slutty costume and the half moons of the butt-cheeks it revealed gave me the confidence to turn my Halloween into a night of fulfilling my sexual desires. I worked the party with an air of confidence that for the life of me, I have never been able to duplicate. Maybe that is why the “slut” is so scary– she gets what she wants.

The argument that hits one over the head with fear on Halloween is not about college girls wearing cat-ears and lingerie, but the protest that children’s costumes are becoming too revealing. Annabelle handles this well, saying:

“The politically correct concern for Halloween costumes is to protect our impressionable daughters from the dangers of sexuality. And yes, of course, children should be strongly protected from sexual coercion of any kind. But I think the concerned conservatives and the concerned feminists both underestimate how early puberty naturally sparks lust. I started masturbating and writing long obsessive diary-entries about “cute boys” when I was eleven.”

Wouldn’t part of a sex positive society be accepting that adolescents are in fact sexual beings and allow them a safe venue for exploring their new-found sexuality? If an adolescent girl wanted to wear a more “adult” looking costume, like the short-skirted ragdoll costume that Annabelle dug up, I think this could be a safe way for her to explore her sexuality — which of course does not mean having sex.

For this situation to work the parent would need to trust their child and vice versa. Unfortunately so many parents do not have open and honest communications with their children, there is no trust or mutual respect in most parenting, sadly. Ideally, if you have raised your child to be a smart, self-aware, self-loving individual then you should know that you can trust them to make the right decision for them. I think that children, especially by adolescent age should be allowed to make their own choices, ones that involve their wardrobe included,with honest parent-to-kid chats as needed.

A teacher I had for a gender studies course once remarked at how with each feminist movement, plenty of non-feminists celebrated their new rights, often with a risque display of their sexuality. Flappers were an offshoot from suffragettes and the the swinging mini-skirted sixties came with the second wave. Perhaps the women who feel free to wear what looks like sex role-play costumes on any other day are the by-product of third wave feminism and it’s pro-sex agenda. Regardless, while so many others will be turning their nose up this Halloween at the parade of bare legs and cleavage, I for one will be relishing in this open display of sexuality, soaking it all in for one glorious night, until next year.

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