Clothes off, masks on

Hey, so big news since we last spoke—I puked on a table at Waffle House. If you follow me on Twitter or if I have your phone number, you were probably already aware of this incident. Because when I do anything at all edgy, albeit revolting, I like to shout it from the cellular towers.

I live a relatively tame lifestyle, but on this unholy day of Halloween, I embrace my rare radical moments. I take a break from bowing to Priorities and Responsibilities, the recurrent rulers of my waking hours, and I do one thing—SLUT IT UP!

Just kidding. I’m not a big endorser of the skanky costume theory made popular by “Mean Girls” and subsequently supported by scantily clad disciples every Oct. 31. Yeah … Newsflash! The girl who wore a tankini to her graduation party does not wear fishnets on Halloween. This is not to say that I wouldn’t dole out high fives to all you brave, yet chilly bods rocking said fishnets—it’s just not for me. It must be cat-ear envy; I cannot rock those animal accessories as well as the girl in head-to-toe, black spandex. So when I talk about letting loose on All Hallow’s Eve, it’s a bit more multi-faceted than encouraging you to go pantsless or braless or wear less of anything in particular. I merely mean to suggest we could all inject a few more factors into our masked merriments this year.

With Halloween confusedly located smack dab in the middle of the workweek, time is preciously allocated for socially acceptable zombie make-up. You can’t just go to class in your banana costume and enjoy the impact of that statement all day—no, because pledging isn’t for months. Without this extended weekend opportunity for 48-hour fun in a lackadaisical costume, we must resort to well-articulated attire that packs a punch in our truncated Halloween celebrations.

I encourage you to put thoughtful consideration into a costume that allows you to let loose while also communicating your complicated and underappreciated layers. You can’t be a librarian last night and a cheerleader tomorrow—THIS ISN’T SATURDAY. You need to find something that encapsulates both your id and your superego.

So let me return to my rant against simple slutty versions of non-slutty beings. For my fellow Cameron Crazettes, I encourage you to direct that effortless perfection toward something with a little more attitude than “provocative preschooler.” Duke girls aren’t just horny. They are horny AND smart. Find a costume that accomplishes both, ladies! Be a slutty maid, fine. But at least be clever about it. Be beloved childhood book character Amelia Bedelia! She clumsily putzed about her list of chores in an utterly literal way. It’s a costume that says “Hey I’m sexy, but I also have an appreciation for children’s literature.” So now you can be semi-nude while also educating the revelers around you on irony and idioms. And when the creep dressed as Hurricane Sandy comes up and says “Looks like I’m not the only one blowing everyone on the East Coast,” you can naively respond, “Yeah, wind can be so pesky.”

And for you multidimensional boy toys out there, you too can appear more interesting on this desecrated day. For instance, I recently met a man who was wearing an intricately-constructed jellyfish costume. I went up to him and shouted “Ow! You stung me!” (Flirting 101). Through the conversation that followed, I learned he was an engineer slash graphic designer—and I understood. He was a beautiful feat of mechanics—a masterpiece all pink and decked out in pipe cleaners. I saw him. And I liked what I saw. Layers, people!!

When I yakked hummus all over the poor man’s IHOP, I became enlightened. I’m not just that girl with nary a leopard print bra. I have some trashy streaks up in these bangs. The only one imposing the classy cookie cutter on myself is me, and on the Devil’s Birthday, I can unfasten the top button of my chambray and get a little uninhibited.