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Happy Halloween! This post commemorates the first time I’ve dressed up for Halloween since high school. It’s not for lack of ideas, nor for parties to attend, but for the presence of FEAR. As adults we may have outgrown the fear of, say, ghosts (I haven’t—send tips), but Halloween isn't just scary for kids. Dressing up as Elaine Benes? Not so terrifying. But switching up my look in the first place is. I confess: when I’m in costume I have a bit of an identity crisis.
Spending Halloween in costume is performance. Your job is to shed your skin for another character’s, take their style for your own; maybe even adopt their mannerisms. Not only is it a big responsibility (yeah, I know it’s just Halloween) but it also feels a lot like dishonesty—which is weird because I have no problem telling my friends their babies are cute or faking a bad signal to end a call.
What’s more, actors “lie” professionally, and we respect them for it. So if dishonesty toward others isn’t worrisome, it must be the dishonesty toward myself that jars me when I see Elaine in the mirror in my stead. When my reflection doesn’t match who I perceive myself to be it begs the question—the true terror of Halloween: who are you really?
However, the same question that summons dread might also be a source of comfort: Halloween allows us a night to display seldom-worn personality traits we’d like to test while our habitual selves take the backseat. In fact, it seems like it’s the healthiest way to have an identity crisis. Next time I dress up I’ll tell myself, “Enjoy this break—your personality is right where you left it.”
What’s more, actors “lie” professionally, and we respect them for it. So if dishonesty toward others isn’t worrisome, it must be the dishonesty toward myself that jars me when I see Elaine in the mirror in my stead. When my reflection doesn’t match who I perceive myself to be it begs the question—the true terror of Halloween: who are you really?
However, the same question that summons dread might also be a source of comfort: Halloween allows us a night to display seldom-worn personality traits we’d like to test while our habitual selves take the backseat. In fact, it seems like it’s the healthiest way to have an identity crisis. Next time I dress up I’ll tell myself, “Enjoy this break—your personality is right where you left it.”