Halloween fell on a Monday this year, a day that is all ready packed with more than enough scaries most 9-5ers can swallow. Essentially, by fate of the calendar, the party expanded to a weekend long binge where most of the circle I now swim in has grown to replace the sugar high with a whiskey drunk. As with most national secular holidays, Halloween is an excuse. It serves as the perfect opportunity to ease off the gas at work, binge on empty calories, and in this case dance to Michael Jacksons thriller on repeat. When it comes to women however, the October 31st hall pass pushes the permissible envelope even further. Somewhere along the way, concealing masks and capes transformed into push up bras and lingerie. Fellas you can look, but, unfortunately, I’m not so sure you can touch anymore.
Thankfully, the script writers of the millennial classic Mean Girls blueprinted much of this post. When the twice removed exchange student from Africa celebrates her first American Halloween, she makes the fool-hearted mistake of translating our society in a literal sense. After showing up to a party in hopes of making some progress with the D1 Dreamboat, she stabs herself in the back and goes all out as “an ex wife.” Ghoulish and gory, the fake blood spilled down her brow and while it certainly was a costume that warrants a shiver, within seconds upon entry she realized she missed the mark.
Karen: Why are you dressed so scary?
Cady: It’s Halloween….
To all the fathers out there pondering why their 16 year old daughters nipples are showing when she claims to be dressed as a kitty cat, here’s the memo you and the African exchange students missed.
“Halloween is the one night a year when girls can dress like a total slut and no other girls can say anything about it.”
Frat boys be wary, god will punish you for your lack of masogeny on 10/31 by blessing you with daughters of your own. The first 12 years will be nice, as you watch her voyage through her favorite Disney princesses and Polly pockets but once little Brittany turns thirteen, its goodbye Party City and hello Victoria’s Secret. Let Robin Williams be the first to tell you “it’s not your fault.”
The half naked trend has been making a turn as of late in favor of the fathers. While the lingerie is still very much in play and the push up bra technology rivals that of NASA, the ‘trendy’ girls are finding a not-so-new form of man deterant from a lifelong friend of theirs.
Enter Make Up:
Maybe it’s time the dads lowered the age limit when it comes to make up as it pertains to their innoncent baby girls. As inviting as the mouse ears and fishnets are for the testo-fueled men, make up is now the big, bright, red DO NOT ENTER sign. The times have changed and as discussed prior, the envelope has been pushed. “Baseness” is bad and trendy is all the rage. In order to accomplish this feat, girls are finally being asked to give their costumes some, dare I say it, effort! Animal ears and booty shorts will no longer suffice as girls now must meet the status quo by exhibiting some form of artistic ability. Maybe we can blame it on Kylie Jenner for reinvigorating the cosmetic game or maybe it’s because global warming is indeed a myth impeding the existence of microscirts…whatever the reason, going as a glorified prostitue seems to be obsolete. The to-be father deep inside all men commends you ladies. The dog in us however wants to play dead.
Make up serves one purpose and one alone. Blush, mascara, lip stick, and bronzer exist to make girls more attractive. Highlighting your cheek bones to look like a Mexican sugar skull or bordering your eyes with glitter to connote a mermaid certainly do not negate this fact. Sure there is plenty to be said about a girl that goes au naturale, but most still shell out room in their budget for trips to Sephora. So, for the girls who spent two hours in front of the mirror painting themselves up like a Keith Harring or going for the sexy version of Candy Herrings Ex-Wife look, is it safe to say you trick or treated home alone last night?
Halloween certainly fell in a Monday this year which is enough to make the mascara run. This time, however, I think it was the men who were doing the crying as the trend of full blown make up facades essentially negated any chance of bringing the painted ladies home. This new form of holiday birth control-the obvious presence of effort-certainly helped keep many creatures of the night at bay. The time you spent on your look didn’t go unnoticed, and it’s foolish to think that you’d smudge your look on some Murray Hill fuck-boys Michigan jersey for a simple make out. In my mind, I just don’t see it happening. Even if you did take first base with a guy, the smear you’d leave behind resembles that of a jelly donut rather than some good ole fashioned tonsil hockey. Therefore, unless you went home with your boyfriend who was patient enough to let you wash it all off, you weren’t ravaging your masterpiece for a night club make out. Fathers rejoice! Thy enemy that is make up has become thy friend and your sweet innocent baby girl has lip glossed her way right out of Mr. OneNights hands.