I am crazy for Halloween. We go all out in our home. It's a time of year when no matter how old you are, you get to be a kid again ... that is, unless you are a kid.
Beth Falkenstein: I usually start helping my girls plan and make their costumes in September. And while I don't toot my horn very often, I confess that I actually carry a brag book of photos of Halloweens past. This year, however, time (and energy) failed me and I have had to consider going the (gasp!) store-bought route.
If that decision weren't upsetting enough, it was about to get worse.
As I strolled the aisles of our local Halloween Mega-Warehouse Superstore with my 11-year-old, I had to double-check the aisles constantly to make sure I hadn't stumbled into the adults-only section. But my eyes weren't deceiving me. Package after package featured a scaled-down version of a suggestive adult costume, modeled by a pre-teen wearing too much makeup, a ratted hairdo, fishnet stockings, and striking a hands-on-thrusted-hips pose that seemed to say "Check me out!"
There was a sexy witch, a sexy devil, and a sexy vampire. But even more mind-boggling was the sexy Dorothy, the sexy Alice in Wonderland, and the sexy Raggedy Ann. Every costume was some sort of variation on the classic "Naughty French Maid." I half expected to see a Dora the Slutty Explorer. ("Look, Mittens! Can you say puta?")
Even my daughter noticed the trend. "Everything here is sexy," she observed. When I was 11, I did not even know that word, much less how to use it. What happened, and when did it happen? Is it the Madonna effect? Is it Britney's fault? I just know I'm going to open the door to a miniature Lady Gaga on October 31. (And I wonder if there will be any junior Brunos out there.)
Kids have always enjoyed dressing up like adults for Halloween. But that used to mean wearing faithful likenesses of professional uniforms, like cops, nurses, or soldiers.
Come to think of it, I guess not that much has changed. Kids are still choosing a grown-up profession for their Halloween costume ... the oldest profession.
|Beth Falkenstein was a sitcom writer and freelance contributor to "Self," "Redbook," and "YM" magazines before taking a full time job in her kitchen. She loves her new bosses (ages 13 and 10), and is grateful that they approve of inter-office romance, because Beth thinks her co-worker (Jim, age 45) is really hot.|