"Hallo-wean"

Dramatic screaming, fake blood, masked faces and stuck on tails. The town is swarming in various Michael Jackson “tributes” and suddenly I feel even guiltier that my hatred for Halloween is so rife. Really, what is wrong with me?

There must be some fun in losing your identity for the evening? Countless trips to packed fancy dress shops in search of that “original” costume must be fun, right? As fun as walking into a pub and finding 5 other girls wearing your exact same outfit, and I’d imagine that sticking a tail to your backside and giving yourself a headache from tight bunny ears strapped onto your head isn’t quite what I’d have in mind in a quest of losing my identity for the night.

So what is this fascination with Halloween, is it simply a commercial filler in between the festive period, or should my cynical self expand my narrow mind for this fascinating festival?

Upon understanding the amazing history of this festival, girls dressed in pants in the cold winter night doesn’t seem so fitting. The festival dates back 2,000 years ago when the Celts (residents of Ireland, UK and Northern France) celebrated their new year at the start of November in the cold, dark winter at a time that was also associated with human death.

Celts believed that on the night before the new year, the boundary between the worlds of the living and the dead became blurred.2,000 years on and scantily clad teenagers use the festival for their vision to get blurred.

All in all there are a few benefits. I enjoy the attractive Jack Sparrow pouring my “Halloween inspired” cocktail with cobwebs thrown in for good measure. There is also the appreciation of the “bob slayers” running down Sauchiehall Street with a shopping trolley as a bob slay substitute. Respect.





photo via here