I’ve never personally been a fan of celebrating “Halloweek,” but maybe that’s just me. I’ve also never been the person who gets her pumpkin carving equipment out as soon as the calendar says October. That being said, every year like clockwork, one of my friends, in a panic that “everyone will already have plans on ACTUAL Halloween,” will throw a party on any day from the 25 to 29 October, and I, having strong morals but stronger FOMO, will of course go to every one of them.
This year was no exception, except for the fact that I said no to planning multiple costumes for multiple Halloween affairs, and re-wore my Halloween costume two nights in a row. A very un-radical and miniscule decision, but somehow it still felt controversial. While my friends revelled in the possibilities of being a new person each night — a film character here, a classic scary costume there, a sexy outfit for this, a group outfit for that, a couples’ costume for one party — I found myself thinking that surely the outfit I put time and money into had to be worth more than a one-night appearance?
In 2026, where Halloween is not just a party invite, but also a perfect occasion to post the perfect photo of yourself on social media, rewearing a costume is something I’ve seen less and less of. The thought of: “Why would I wear the same costume on Saturday night when I’ve already posted a photo of it on Thursday?” did shamefully cross my mind. It’s difficult when we see influencers and celebrities having fun online and trying to publicly out-do each other by revealing their multiple Halloween costumes. People who never make social media posts even appear to come out of internet hibernation for the night. If you didn’t post it, did you even dress up? This unofficial fashion competition has added an exclusivity and urgency to the Halloween costume which makes the thought of rewearing one feel daunting. It’s almost like the costume has a shelf-life, as soon as you hit post, it becomes old news.
Then there’s the thinking of the costume itself. I feel like the threshold for “cool” Halloween costumes has risen astronomically. Tiktok videos and Pinterest boards of costume ideas have to invent new buzz words to stand out . There are “cool-girl Halloween costumes,” “niche-girl Halloween costumes,” “last-minute-niche-cool-girl Halloween costumes,” consisting of anything from children’s book characters, to 15-second podcast clip references. It’s not necessarily a bad thing, the more creative a costume is the better! But every year I’ve felt a self-inflicted pressure to make the next costume better and more creative than the last, and to think of multiple good ideas that fit several boxes. Maybe it’s a symptom of being in my final year at university, that I just do not have it in me to be creative, niche (but not too niche), sexy, funny, timeless, and also culturally relevant for 5 nights straight.
So coming into the Halloween party knowing everyone’s already seen my elaborate Angelina Ballerina costume (leotard and all) both on Instagram and the previous night, made me feel admittedly more insecure than it should have. Was I being lazy? What if people think I’m just not that creative? It was when my friend, who I hadn’t seen since the start of the semester, said “I’m so glad you re-wore it! I was scared I wouldn’t get to see it in person!” that the anxiety went away, and I realised how insular it was. If you really want to make Halloween last longer than one night — rewear the costume. Let it stay alive for longer than an Instagram story.
Photos supplied by Iga Suszyńska for The Student
