Humor

There is only one day of the year when one can see all the creatures of the earth scurrying back home once the sun rises, everything ranging from black cats to bumblebees to bright red lobsters. This once in a lifetime opportunity is the morning after Halloween.

What people have so affectionately named “the walk of shame” somehow gets worse, if you can believe it, when you’re dressed as a scantily clad jungle animal.

While the ears can always be removed and placed in your purse, when the cheetah print mini dress is the only thing you have to wear on that chilled morning after a night of costumed festivities, you’re kicking yourself for not opting for the black leggings and cheetah print top. As if that were somehow more casual.

The costumes that seemed cool, innovative, and sexy the night before have somehow, beyond your control, transformed themselves into an embarrassing scarlet letter of sorts: except instead of sporting a vividly red A on your chest, you’re struggling to make yourself blend in to your surroundings as best you can while still sporting (and desperately trying to rub out) the remnants of whiskers on your face.

It’s a fact of college life—no one likes the walk of shame. Halloween just amplifies the issue to such a ridiculous, laughable degree.

The scarlet letter comparison is not far off. A seasoned Boston College student (meaning you’ve been here for only more than one semester) can spot a walk of shame like it’s second nature. Yet, the female “walks of shame” are considerably easier to point out than the male “stride of pride,” as I’ve heard it called by some. The reason is simple: the clothes.

This isn’t so much an interesting critique on the intrinsically embarrassing nature of the Halloween walk of shame as it is a societal commentary on clothes. When preparing for a night out, from my experience I’d have to say that the average girl makes a point to express through her wardrobe that she is “goin’ for it.” As in, going all out, not looking back, skirt, fancy top, heels (especially the heels—that screams “goin’ for it”).

What do guys wear for a night out? Jeans and, if anything, a slightly nicer top than what they had on earlier in the night to watch football. Those lucky dogs.

Once the night has gone and the dawn has come, these outfits that are so on point for that party are just awful. Girls usually cringe while looking down at those black stilettos, knowing that soon they’ll be extremely loudly striding past Corcoran Commons, while everyone else is in sweatpants.

This column is a rally for everyone, whether they’re wearing a furry bunny tail or not, to own their stride of pride. Male or female, Mickey Mouse or Gumby. Halloween comes once a year, and while the cringe factor might be even higher on this particular day, don’t be ashamed to strut your stuff. Even if you’re not walk of shame-ing, sport your costume in the omelets line in Corcoran Commons the next morning. The best thing about Halloweek is that no one’s judging.