I Love to Hate Gay Halloween
Written by Leah (Bunny) Overstreet
Every year I look forward to watching my friends do an impressive assortment of drugs with strangers, in Halloween costumes so niche they had to make it their phone lock screen so that we’d get the reference. Having graduated from trick or treating, we are now K-holing in greasepaint, heavy petting in synthetic wigs, and paying upwards of $35 (if we’re lucky the proceeds might go to a family in Gaza or towards someone’s gender affirming care) to oontz oontz until the sun yawns awake. We’re all grown up. And our costumes reflect that: getting trashier and more bizarre with every passing year. No longer are we mere characters, but rather concepts of a character wrapped in at least three layers of chronically-online-ribbon. It's kind of the best, kind of the worst.
I’ve noticed that many Halloween costumes lately are a reference inside of a reference inside of a sight gag. The more obscure the better. Some costumes are already having their spin of virality, tonguing their cheek by capitalizing on the silliest moments of recent memory: The Cursed Willy Wonka Experience, The Louvre Bank Heist, The Bisexual Couch From Ikea’s Pride Collection.
Especially effective in the age of the internet, making a cheeky gesture towards an internet meme or moment or even recreating an iconic movie scene for a Tiktok seems to be, for some, the whole point of Halloween. Some costumes seem to be trapped behind the screen, only really translating in the context of a lipsync or the mimicking of a specific image. These internet exclusives are not quite enough to wear out to a party and so they exist solely for our socials, thus adding another costume to plan for on top of an already overwhelming list. As a Dreamworld Girl, I’m sure I don’t have to tell you that Halloween takes up far more than its allotted day. It's Halloweekend, for some it's Halloweek, for me it’s Hallomonth. I have around 6-7 costumes this year and despite my best efforts to stick to what’s already in my closet, I’ve definitely fallen prey to overconsumption. It’s a fabulous excuse to finally get something absolutely ridiculous that I’ve been wanting to own like a floor length feather lined robe, or a 40inch pink wig, or crazy corset. With so many events (featuring many familiar faces) there is also an undeniable pressure to dazzle in something new and exciting for each event. As a result, a lot of time, money, and effort goes into constructing the perfect spooky ensembles and DIY is sort of the only way to go, especially if you want to stand out.
“With so many events (featuring many familiar faces) there is also an undeniable pressure to dazzle in something new and exciting for each event. As a result, a lot of time, money, and effort goes into constructing the perfect spooky ensembles and DIY is sort of the only way to go, especially if you want to stand out.”
Since everyone has access to the same batch of pre-made costumes and we’re no longer confined to our local party city or Spirit Halloween selection, it feels like there’s a higher risk of wearing the same thing as someone else. And even if you go to different parties altogether, if you post in the same outfit your entire social circle will see it (a fate worse than death apparently). The only way to be unique is to essentially piece together your costume albeit from a similar batch of corsets, mini skirts, and tights of varying color combos. The only exceptions I’ve noticed have been the sexy early 2000s, prepackaged ensembles from Leg Avenue and the deadstock rave girl monster sets (which are their only little treat of nostalgia). Personally, I put together my own costumes mainly because nothing pre-made ever feels naked enough.
Me as the Sexy Melting Polar Ice Caps in 2023
Gay Halloween is not just about hyper specific references; it’s also an opportunity to essentially get into drag, and or be as naked as humanly possible. I personally opt for a naked drag combo and try to make something up to go along with whatever look I want to do, and I end up taking some… creative liberties. I’ve been the Sexy Melting Polar Ice Caps, a Sexy Lisa Frank Sticker Book, A Panty Dropper (aka Willow Pill’s underwear runway look), and The Color Pink (literally just naked and painted pink).
The goal is not to be instantly recognizable per se (except by a select few) but rather, to look absolutely scrumptious and have the satisfaction of coming up with something that nobody else would have. These are the costumes I encounter the most when out on the town come All Hallows Eve. The hottest girls I know are just wanting to play around and try something and Halloween is just a convenient excuse. What was the Mean Girls quote?“ The hardcore girls just wear lingerie and some form of animal ears.” The sentiment is the same: sex appeal is the main goal and Halloween is a means to an end. Whichever side of gay Halloween fuels your costume this year, as long as we’re all having fun, looking hot, and Monster Mashing, I’m going to have a scary good time.
