Trick or Treat

Although we may feel like time travelling to Christmas, this year we need Halloween more than ever says Lydia Spencer-Elliott

September 22 was the last official day of summer, which means we are now free falling into Autumn. Aside from the browning of leaves, the tenth month of the year means fake blood and fangs: Halloween is here and more appropriate than ever.

This year has been an inferno disaster; a horror film with a mystery ending. Between a deadly virus, forest fires and numerous recessions, there is much to be afraid of and ample opportunity for costume ideas that encapsulate the uniquely apocalyptic flavour of 2020. 

Angus, Thongs and Perfect Snogging defined an epoch in the noughties where denim miniskirts, skinny eyebrows and the word ‘minger’ reigned supreme. But nothing scalded the minds of impressionable viewers like the opening scene’s fancy dress party. 

A vomit green orb in a red beanie, protagonist Georgia barrels into the room: “And what are you supposed to be, an obese leprechaun?” swipes her nemesis Lindsay. “Anyone can see I’m a stuffed olive,” answers Georgia before swivelling her attention to the friends who have betrayed her. 

 “What happened to you Ellen? You were supposed to come as a cocktail sausage. We said we’d all go as hors d’oeuvres…It was supposed to be a laugh,” Georgia laments. And then came the bitch bomb that pummelled through the earth’s crust and cemented itself in the core of our collective consciousness: “But boys don’t like girls for funniness,” they retort.  

Said from the mouth of an angel, a fairy princess and a coma-inducingly unimaginative devil, Georgia’s friends subscribed to the Mean Girls school of thought: "In the real world, Halloween is when kids dress up in costumes and beg for candy. In Girl World, Halloween is the one day a year when a girl can dress up like a total slut and no other girls can say anything else about it.”

As standard, the uniform consists of fish nets, hot pants, devil horns, lipstick and enough fake blood and fake tan to sink a ship. The goal is to be the colour of mahogany despite masquerading as a blood drained corpse: attractive yet intensely artificial. 

I’ve done my fair share of hot pants and animal ears. It is an absolute truth that looking good is a form of protective armour, while an attempt at humour leaves you vulnerable to ridicule if the joke falls flat. But this year I’d much rather be merrily dressed as an olive, regardless of the reception. Humour in the face of unprecedented times is, at this point, really our only option. 

Like so many cultural references that now appear grey in the colour spectrum of political correctness, the iconic Mean Girls quote has been reclaimed by Gen Z and injected with humour for TikTok.

On the video sharing app with over 800 million users, the soundbite plays as a myriad of less than sultry costumes grace the screen: Willy Wonka and a gang of twerking Oompa Loompas, the creature from Shape of Water, Squidward from SpongeBob, Gollum, Dr Evil, even the ‘thumb thumbs’ from Spy Kids. If it involves a bald cap, it’s there in all its glory—totally absent of vanity. 

TikTok, an app so popular that Donald Trump despises it, allows us to hold the selfie camera up to society and peer at our collective reflection: spookiness has been a constant theme well outside the month of October. In the chaos of life, we have actually started believing in magic.

‘Manifesting’ is where you set a goal, visualise achieving it, or write it down in a journal until it happens. Hashtag ‘manifestation’ has an unbelievable 4.3 billion views on TikTok…mostly from teens trying to get a text from their ex.

Modern witches are thriving on the platform. Celebrities, including Stevie Nicks, Lana del Rey, Zoe Kravitz and even Beyonce, have been declared A-list adopters of magic.  Whether astrology, crystals, horoscopes, hexing or healing, the occult ‘witch’ hashtag has over 505 million views. 

Witches used to mean weirdos or women with too much independence and power. Now, we’re not burning them at the steak, but adopting their magical techniques to establish some certainty amongst the turmoil and trepidation of 2020.

Although this year may feel like a nightmare to be shaken awake from, I’d like to linger a while in Halloween traditions; the escapism and humour of the costumes, the supposed power of manifestation that makes us feel like we’ve regained some semblance of control, whether it actually works or not. If I have to wish my way out of a global pandemic, then watch me scribble ‘everyone is cured’ in my notebook 50 times a day. If Beyonce is doing it then so am I.