Halloween used to be easy. It was a fancy-dress party: you could wear whatever you liked. The idea was to have fun.
As teens, my friends and I would dress up as ghouls, spiders or witches, with cones of black paper on our heads. When we became more mature, Halloween turned into a tarty affair. We thought this seemed authentic, somehow all-American. Our costumes became flimsier and more flammable. One girlfriend made a habit of always going dressed as ‘sexy cat’.
Inevitably, somebody would dress as a zombie Princess Diana or Amy Winehouse, or another celebrity who had died unpleasantly. The more risqué the better. I was once served a drink by a man with a toy doll tied to his lower half. He had come as Jimmy Savile.
But Halloween is changing. It is no longer a night of uncouth revelry. It has turned into an opportunity for political posturing, a moment to show that you understand what’s acceptable and what’s not. Now that the photos are online within hours, if not minutes, it is very important not to get it wrong.
Two years ago, Brexit costumes started to appear. Revellers wore mutilated EU flags or came as gravestones with ‘Brexit means Brexit’ as the epitaph. A more facetious take was the ‘plummeting pound’ costume.
Suddenly, you had to signal that you were on the right side of the argument. Donald Trump became the ultimate Halloween inspiration. People carved pumpkins into ‘Trumpkins’ with angry faces. Some orange face paint and a Make America Great Again cap, and you could dress as the President, just like every other person. Trump–related costumes have evolved quickly. You can now buy a ‘sexy anonymous op-ed costume’, inspired by that New York Times article written by one of the President’s staff.

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