Happy Halloween!
Halloween offers people the chance to truly express themselves for one night only. The next day, you must immediately return to your even scarier self by getting back into the swing of killing time until your impending mortality catches up with you.
You can tell a lot about a person based on their choice of Halloween costume (or lack thereof). Let’s see what your outfit says about you.
A Well Executed Character Tribute
You’ve spent months sourcing the right materials to get your outfit together. You do it every year, beginning around July and working tirelessly until the big day itself. A sewing machine was involved at some point, a fact you proudly tell friends as they look on in disgust, wondering why you’ve shown up to a very casual house party dressed exactly like Zoidberg from Futurama. Never mind, strangers are asking for photos with you!
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You’re a very organised person, you can be quite uptight and have roughly 37 self-help books proudly displayed on a shelf in your room. To unwind, you enjoy an intermediate level Sudoku and half a glass of sparkling Rosé. You take great pride in your wedding Pinterest account (even though you’re extremely single) and use a minimum of seven hashtags on every Instagram post.
Something Sexy
Halloween is a chance for you to express your extremely daring self. You let your outfit choose you, as you arrive at the costume shop approximately two days before Halloween. There wasn’t a huge amount left, so you went for a Sexy Ebola Nurse in the end. The real fun will be explaining to people all night that you’re not just a regular sexy nurse, you are actually treating a very deadly virus disease.
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Your three best friends will also be dressed in various decidedly sexy attire. You collectively ignore the horror element of Halloween and instead use it as a chance to display your envious 3 days a week gym body. You’re a basic soul, getting a real kick out of scented candles and rejuvenating hair masks. For you, Halloween is a welcome distraction from waiting for your boyfriend of seven years to propose.
A Legitimately Terrifying Outfit
Scaring children is proudly listed under the ‘Interests’ section of your CV, along with ‘Being a lunatic’ and ‘Drinking’. You’ll put together your costume in a a matter of hours, applying as much fake blood as your soft, shitty body can accommodate. You thrive off unnecessary purchases such as a zipper for your face to reveal a gammy eyeball, various body appendages and even contemplate cutting off a fingertip for added effect.
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You’re very much a lunatic, who enjoys doing nonsensical things. For your 21st, you went skydiving with a few unwilling friends and pretended that your parachute wouldn’t open while filming their reactions, you sick viral fame-hungry nutter. Friends turn to you when they fancy a night out with an hour’s notice, as you are rarely without a naggin in your bag.
Something Half-Arsed
You consider most things pointless and it’s hard to fault you on that one. The only reason you scrape some sort of mildly recognisable costume together is to avoid your insufferably ‘chill’ boss from being very chill and cool as he calls you out in front of everyone else for failing to spend 7 years putting together an incredibly shit Barney outfit WHICH ISN’T EVEN SCARY TO BEGIN WITH, SARAH.
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You are the human embodiment of the awkward face emoji, spending a large portion of your time apologising for your existence to anyone that you come into contact with. Nothing pleases you more than a bag of cans in a big open area with your closest friends, having a nice fulfilling moan about everything that is wrong with the world. Your proudest achievement in life is that you can quote the entirety of Superbad.
No Costume
(As in you just wear something normal, you’re not in the nip). You’ve been struck with the highly debilitating medical condition known as ‘DGAF’. Most things that require effort simply aren’t for you, you delicate little flower. Events like Halloween and New Year’s Eve fill you with the anxiety of having to be around people, and that’s just not something you’re interested in in life.
You’re an introvert, preferring the company of the latest crime thriller series on Netflix over meaningful human interaction. It has recently come to your attention that you could find fault with literally anyone, Florence Nightingale included (kind of dumb that she was named after the place that she was born, who does she think she is, Brooklyn Beckham?). You’ll happily die alone with your cat and he will disinterestedly look the other way as you take your final breath because cats are scum.
