What your Halloween costume says about you: Sheffield edition

Spooky season has come our way and so have the costumes

| UPDATED

Those among us who’re still clinging determinately to their brat summers might not have noticed, but Halloween is upon us. For the past week, you’ve heard “do you know what you’re wearing yet?” and “what’s you’re costume gonna be?” more times than you can count. When you told your housemate the other day that you’re planning on wearing an orange prisoner jumpsuit – was that the flash of a pitying grimace you saw flash across their face? Public service announcement: It absolutely was.

It might be too late to change your costume now, unless you can come up with an emergency ‘stume idea fairly quickly. You’re worried you won’t come across as funny or creative as you want to. So here’s what your Halloween costume says about you: Sheffield edition. Not knowing is worse than hearing the awful truth. The awful truth is forthcoming.

Barbie

Are you blonde? Do you have no idea what you want to wear for Halloween? Are you unbothered, and also unbothered whether people can tell? If you answered yes to all of those questions, then I guarantee you that you’ll be going as Barbie this Halloween.

Barbie is one of a handful of go to low effort, last minute costumes. Consider yourselves called out.

Of course, if you do Barbie properly – then it can be as quality a costume as any. And I’d like to give a personal “well done” to the single individual in Sheffield that applies to. As for the rest of you, the throngs of blonde-haired disappointments ensconced in whatever baby pink garments you had within arm’s reach, I say only this: “Do better.”

Ken

Hi Ken! If you’ve just read the verbal dismemberment about Barbie costumes above, and are terrified of reading on. You can relax. Breathe. Stop quivering in your loafers. If you’re doing Halloween dressed as Ken, you’re officially a member of the fashion elite. 

Floral swimming trunks, with flip-flops, a Hawaiian shirt and sunglasses. Chino shorts, a neatly tucked polo shirt and boat shoes. A cowboy jacket, chaps, and boots. Any of those three can be worn as Ken outfits. As can countless other possible clothing concoctions. Ken isn’t a defined recipe of wardrobe items: It’s a vibe. And it takes true fashion to be able to get that right.

Taylor Swift

Inevitably, this year will see herds of Taylor Swifts shuffling along West Street, and around Sheffield’s dance floors. She’s inescapable (trust me, I’ve tried) in all other aspects of life, so why not Halloween too?

I don’t think Swifties realise how over it everyone else is. Swifties, you need to calm down. I don’t want to have any sort of bad blood with you guys, but the rest of us can’t tolerate it anymore. Don’t blame me, I’m just speaking for the silent majority.

Ghost

If you’ve thrown a sheet over your head, and popped a pair of sunglasses over it, and plan to stomp around West Street as a ghost, I have an alternative to offer you. A £5 note. Use it to get a taxi home. And you won’t be invited next year. There are low effort costumes. There are very low effort costumes. And then there’s this type of ghost costume. You’re so boring that I’ve just had to skull a can of red bull keep me awake as I write this.

Now, if you’ve dressed as a ghost in some other way, then you’re not boring. In fact, what your costume says about you is that you’re cool af and creative. I can’t really figure how else to dress as a ghost, so if you’ve cracked it – that’s some pretty impressive problem solving skills. If you could be so kind, be a good chap and just solve nuclear fusion and climate change, it shouldn’t take you a minute.

Superhero

If you’re going out this year in a superhero costume – you’re a solid guy or gal. While some might call you boring, or say you cheated with your shop-bought costume, you shouldn’t listen to those people.

Superhero Halloween costumes are like jacket potatoes. Or BBC 2. I’ve never said: “What I really need right now is a jacket potato.” But I’m glad jacket potatoes exist. The world is better for the existence of jacket potatoes, and if they suddenly disappeared, their absence wouldn’t be noticed – but it would be felt deep in the heart. 

Vampire

You might think you’re slick, but I see you. I know exactly why you’re wearing that faux-Victorian baggy white shirt, with the lacy cuffs. You’re so very obvious. And someone needs to tell you that just by dressing as a vampire alone, you won’t automatically attract every pretty goth in your postcode in the way you think you will. 

And if you do succeed in what is so clearly your one sole goal for the night, then good luck trying to sneakily take your fangs out in anticipation of a dance floor kiss. I can’t imagine that’ll be very attractive. Your cape also probably won’t have any pockets, and your newfound friend will sprint in the opposite direction when you say: “Here, hold this,” and hand over your spit-drenched dental prosthetics.