Whose Holiday Is It, Anyway?

By Julia Feldmeier
Friday, October 27, 2006

If Halloween has a spirit, these are its soul suckers: Sugar-free-candy-dispensing dental hygienists. Overgrown trick-or-treaters. Costumeless partygoers.

We forgive the adolescent candy-seeker as much as we do the well-intentioned hygienist: After all, losing a tradition hurts as much as losing a tooth. But the suit-wearing executive who arrives "in costume" as a businessman?

Step aside, please.

"We're throwing a party -- you can at least entertain the hell out of us," said Steve Silverman, 30, a Halloween party host who is implementing a strict dress code this year: No costume, no entry.

To Silverman and many other adult Halloween revelers, the anti-costume partygoer is a Halloween naysayer -- the costume boycott an implicit suggestion that, alas, Halloween is for kids.

Hardly. According to a 2006 survey by the National Retail Federation, more than 85 percent of 18- to 24-year-olds say they plan to celebrate the holiday, up from 66 percent last year, and more than 75 percent of consumers ages 25 to 34 say they plan to join in the fun. The Halloween mood, it seems, is becoming increasingly adult. Jay Hofkamp, director of marketing for the online costume store BuyCostumes.com, said adult costumes accounted for 37 percent of total Halloween sales last year, while children's costumes represented only 24 percent.

Why the lingering attachment among adults to Oct. 31? According to Chris Riddle, the Halloween trend-spotter for the card company American Greetings, nostalgia is the binding link for 20- and 30-somethings.

"These people used to be your traditional trick-or-treaters when they were young kids," he said. "It was so much fun to run yourself to death for two hours and be out with your friends. It really doesn't change as you get older."

Maybe so, but for some of us, the Halloween of our youth had a singular appeal: candy, and lots of it. Factor in disposable income and the diminishing appeal of free handouts, and what's left?

Self-expression, for one. Halloween, more than any other holiday, is a chance to flex some creative muscle.

On a Saturday in mid-October, Silverman was in Backstage Inc., a costume shop in Southeast Washington, holding a Jolly Green Giant costume he'd plucked from the wall and searching for accoutrements, which ultimately included a white sash (across which he planned to write "Banned by the FDA"), makeup for gory scars and a blood-covered meat cleaver. His outfit is complete: killer spinach.

Others, like Eric Dunn, 39, a graphic artist from Alexandria, enjoy the challenge of creating costumes that mimic favorite characters from television or movies.

"If you're going to give me a chance to costume, I'll try, and I'll try to do it easily," he said while shopping last week at Masters Costumes in Arlington. Easily and cheaply.

According to Duke Middleton, costume manager at Masters, adults typically spend upward of $50 for a costume and accessories, and those who buy last minute will readily spend $100.

Dunn, who this year will hit the clubs as the hybrid squid-lobster character Dr. Zoidberg from the animated series "Futurama," will spend about $30 on his costume. He found a lab coat at Masters for $20, and, though Zoidberg's lobster claws had him momentarily stumped, he'll fashion facial tentacles out of latex gloves. He'll paint his face red, talk silly, act stupid and -- presto! -- Dr. Zoidberg.

"The reaction is more of a compliment than anything people are going to say to me," Dunn said. "If people say, 'Whoa!,' it's a great feeling." Thus, evident effort begets appreciation -- whether for the laboriousness of a costume or the cleverness of the idea.

"Even if it doesn't come out perfect, it's nice to see people think of something and try to have fun wearing it," said Cathlin Tully, 30, who lives with Silverman and four others in an Adams Morgan townhouse. Tully will come dressed as a bubble bath to their party, affixing iridescent balloons and rubber duckies to a Velcro wrap. "I'm not a huge fan of the 'slutty whatever' costume," she added.

But "slutty whatever" sells: The stewardess costume that appears to use one-twentieth of the fabric of an American Airlines uniform. The skimpy winter fairy costume that promises frostbite to anyone who wears it, even in October. The bikini-topped mermaid suit. The proverbial kitten in a body suit.

At Backstage Inc., owner Sandra Smoker-Duraes sells body-baring women's costumes -- roughly $40 each -- in sizes from small to 3X. BuyCostumes.com's Hofkamp said sexy women's costumes have been so popular that the company recently broke them down by category so women could search more easily for "Classic Sexy" (police officer, nurse, referee), "Sexy Fantasy" (Alice in Wonderland, Peter Pan, Red Riding Hood) or "Sexy Plus Size."

"I have girls that come in here that seem so shy and right away put on the cute, sexy outfit that they would never wear any other time of year," Smoker-Duraes said.

Halloween a night for escapism? Go figure.

When it comes to costumes, store owners say, men want funny, and, for college-age men, cruder is better. Smoker-Duraes keeps a few of the "S#!T" collection handy: foam fecal-shaped costumes that pun on expressions relating to the four-letter word. (The "bull" version, for example, has horns at the top; the "holy" version switches it up with a halo and a cross.) At Masters Costumes in Arlington, an entire aisle is devoted to packaged costumes designed to appeal to the fraternity brother: "Wet T-Shirt Contest" (faux breasts shining through a shirt), the superhero-themed "Super Sperm," "Beer Keg" and more. Middleton said his store sells out of fake breasts and buttocks every year.

Hmm. Provocative costumes, booze, escapism and a devil-may-care attitude: What was that about nostalgia for our youth?

Ah, yes. A time to socialize with friends, to run wild for a few hours. Costumes, after all, are meant to be displayed. And they're instant conversation starters.

"Even if you don't know anybody, you can always start conversations based on someone's costume," said Nana Dawson-Andoh, 27, of Mount Pleasant. "It won't be that you're trying to hit on them necessarily, just that you really appreciate their costume." (Dawson-Andoh plans to dress up as a devil; her boyfriend will accompany her as a sinner.)

Camille Chatilovicz, 25, who lives in Adams Morgan, went out on Halloween night last year dressed as a Baltimore Orioles player. She walked into Town Hall, a bar in Northwest Washington, and immediately spotted Rafael Palmeiro, the former Oriole whose career came to an abrupt end after he tested positive for steroids in 2005.

Not the Rafael Palmeiro, of course. A Halloween poser. "I'd never seen this guy before in my life, and we literally gave each other a hug," Chatilovicz said. "Halloween's not your typical night out. You have a lot more interaction with your peers. You're all out for having a good time."

The good time isn't just limited to one night or a few hours. There are parties on multiple nights and multiple parties on the same night. Some people are strictly Halloween night revelers. Many, like Silverman and Chatilovicz, will host parties on Saturday. Others have begun the festivities even earlier. T.J. Peekin, owner of Costumes Creative in Silver Spring, attended his first Halloween party of the season Oct. 14. Many shops, including Costumes Creative, Backstage Inc. and Masters Costumes, began keeping extended store hours as of Columbus Day, and they say their clients are buying -- and using -- costumes and decorations earlier this year.

The District's Halloween Scavenger Hunt, an annual event now in its 19th year that sends roughly 200 costumed participants on a daytime bar-crawl-cum-trivia-hunt, is typically held on the Saturday before Halloween. This year, the event took place last weekend, a week early.

"We changed it because last year we were supposed to go from this out to four parties we had that night," said Stephanie Jones, 34, an organizer of the hunt. "It was a long night."

Long, indeed, and perhaps excessive? No matter: Excess remains a staple of Halloween, young and old. After all, there will always be overgrown trick-or-treaters in pursuit of more candy, just as there will always be overgrown revelers in pursuit of more party.

Julia Feldmeier, who has a nostalgic attachment to fun-size candy bars, works in the Metro section of The Washington Post.