Regally Blonde Episode III - Misinterpreting Halloween

Author: Astri von Arbin Ahlander

Halloween may be all done here, but in Sweden it hasn't even begun. Though I'm famously in favor of my Mothercountry, I must admit that the land of the midnight sun has failed me this time. When Sweden adopted Halloween as a holiday a couple of years back, it did so with the intention of fully embracing the economic benefits of an admittedly completely commercial holiday. Halloween is not like Christmas, where we at least pretend to care about Jesus a little more than the shiny gifts under the tree, or Valentine's Day, which hides the millions spent on pointless gifts behind the irresistible idea of an internationally designated day to be in love. The name Halloween may come from "all hallows eve," but throughout the centuries it has basically been brought down to the level of the "Two C's": Candy and Costumes. And that's just fine with me. I can appreciate hyper-consumerism as long as it can stand up for itself.

So, then, what does Sweden go and do? It messes up the dates! Instead of writing Halloween correctly into the calendar on October 31, as any respectable American would tell you to do, it decided to put it a week later on the very real, very un-consumerist and very momentous All Saints' Day in Sweden. This is traditionally the night when families unite and visit the graves of loved ones. For once, there is no profit to be made on this holiday, unless you count the candles that people buy and put on the graves. All around the pitch-black November night, the graveyards are lit up with thousands of candles. For years, when I still lived at home, I would go with my family to the graveyard. It was a time to pay your respects and be together. Now when my grandmother goes to visit the graves of those who have passed away, she is met with packs of roaring trick-or-treating or prank-playing children, faces painted, fake blood perfectly smeared, fangs glues on. What?! Who is the mastermind behind this offensive set-up?

In the midst of my anti-Swedish Halloween wrath, it feels good to be celebrating a true, commercial-only Halloween here at Middlebury. When you read this, the great day (or night?) will be over, and you will have long ago discarded this year's costume. Perhaps you're already scheming about next year's unbeatable get-up. I want to offer a little recap of what your Halloween experience on campus probably was like. At Middlebury, Halloween is the perfect time to dress in something so skimpy your roommates wouldn't let you out of the house in it on any other day, and call it a costume. So, chances are, you went as "Sexy Witch," "Sexy Cowgirl" or the classic "Sexy Character from the 80's." Add near freezing temperatures coupled with high chances of snow, and you were pounding that holiday punch just to fend off pneumonia, which you're sure to get symptoms of soon anyway when you're diagnosed with Mono after that not-so-thought-through Halloween Hook-up. There's nothing like waking up with Michael Jackson in your bed. If a vampire or zombie was your choice of meat for the evening - the fake-blood dribble may have looked hot under the dimmed lights of FIC on Saturday, but, honestly, blood is never really a welcome component in the bedroom.

To sum up: you dressed-up, you partied and maybe you conquered, but either way, you should be proud to be an American wearing your commercialism on your sleeve, and wearing that sleeve on the correct day. I, on the other hand, will be sporting my "Sexy Stupid Swede" outfit on the 4th of November.