Dear Halloween,

Why art thou so stressful? On a day meant for children to reap the benefits of sugared and salted treats, why must we adults also alter our appearance? Dost thou not understand the complexities of creating a unique and original costume? For the days of witches and vampires are long gone, Hollywood made sure of that. One does not simply throw a sheet over themselves and claim “Ghost!” anymore. No, that would be too easy. Now we must make the pilgrimage to the Party Store or, more realistically for those light of coin, Value Village to piece together some semblance of a costume. Though nowadays, even VV takes its toll on our coin purse. Why have they forgotten the meaning of “thrift”?

And while at these depraved stores with their used costumes and desirable sweaters from the 80s, we fight. Oh yes Halloween, we fight. Not with you, but with each other. Man against man, woman against woman, child against smaller child. Who eyed the feather boa first? If a pair of cowboy boots are left behind in the change room, who has the right to claim them? Shoving, pushing, ensnaring potentially useful costume items only to hide them away from prying eyes. Like animals we act! All this in service of you oh mighty Halloween.

Dost thou remember the days when you were exciting? In our youths we would go to school and receive treats from teachers. Oh how I used to savor my bars of Mars and Twix! And in the evening before the sun had even set, our parents would make us put on a coat (completely covering our costume), don our tangerine UNICEF box, and around the neighbourhood we went. T’was thrilling to see my friends dressed up as all the different Disney princesses or whatever other animated movie had come out that year. And the exhilaration that came from ringing a doorbell and exclaiming, “trick-or-treat!” in exchange for candy— words cannot describe! Even the flaccid disappointment when handed a box of raisins from the elderly couple down the street was an important component of All Hallow’s Eve.

In our adolescent years, young ladies would compete to wear the least amount of clothes while the men slapped on an eye patch and declared themselves a pirate so it appeared they put in the least amount of effort and therefore must be cool. Those were dark times, even for you.

But now! It has never been harder to please you Halloween. You demand creativity, ingenuity, and intricate architectural design! You place insurmountable pressure on mankind to be who they are not and call it “fun”. And what do you offer in return? One year thou bestowed me with some version of H1N1, another thou had me hit on by a man dressed as a television character no one knew. You mock us, sir!

Therefore, on the thirtieth and first day of October this year, I desire to stay in my sweatpants, watch Hocus Pocus, and be reminded of simpler times.

Yours truly,


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