Why 2016 is the year to embrace Hallowe’en
I used to shun this imported horror show. Now I have my own little devils to amuse and it’s a lifesaver, says
One bat, one black cat, one vampire, two zombies, three witches, a ghostly Elsa-from-Frozen and, well, Darth Vader. But thankfully no scary clowns. This is the guest list at my place tomorrow evening, when my two children (five and seven), are proudly hosting a Hallowe’en tea party. Things are bound to go bump in the night. I just hope it’s nothing valuable.
The house is currently illuminated by pumpkin lanterns and skull-shaped fairy lights. The fireplace is covered in cobwebs – although rather than an indication of domestic slovenliness, it’s stretchy cotton wool crawling with plastic spiders (thanks, Amazon). A music play list is prepared, with highlights including
and The menu includes such delights as fang-shaped sandwiches, creature cupcakes, zombie cakepops and green jelly with gummy worms inside.
Preparations have been in progress for the whole of half-term, and excitement is currently at spontaneous combustion levels. Yes, Hallowe’en fever has the Hogan household gripped firmly in its hairy werewolf hands. And it seems I’m not alone. Britain has finally learned to stop fretting and embrace Hallowe’en.
In my youth, this time of year was more focused around the 400-year-old festival of Guy Fawkes Night. Wheeling around a vaguely human-shaped bundle of clothes, calling: “Penny for the Guy!” Scoffing toffee apples, parkin cake and boiled hotdogs around bonfires. Ooh-ing and aah-ing at fireworks – be it the local civic display, my father lighting lethal Catherine wheels in the back garden or my mother buying those invariably disappointing indoor ones. Cue spluttering damp squibs and anticlimactic fizzles.
Like many Brits, I used to look down my nose on Hallowe’en. It was the 5th of November’s overly commercialised, slightly common cousin. A ghastly American event that we didn’t quite understand, like Thanksgiving, Spring Break or the Super Bowl. A lame excuse for students to wear gratuitously sexedup costumes and stagger around town centres, smelling of fake blood and alcopops, snogging and being sick in shop doorways.
Now that I’m a parent myself, though, my Hallowe’en-phobic sentiments have softened. It’s become a benign event, based around the sweetie tin and dressingup box. I’ve even learned to love it.
When trying to keep kids amused, the calendar comes into its own. The year becomes punctuated by days that provide a focal point for activities, from Pancake Day to Easter egg hunts, Mothering Sunday to the (sadly, somewhat less celebrated) Father’s Day.
Between the little darlings’ merciful return to school in September and the festive frenzy of December, Hallowe’en becomes a halfway staging post. Something fun to look forward to when the cold weather bites and the clocks go back. Hallowe’en has also become more fashionable than ever, thanks in part to the inexorable rise of social media. Instagram is populated by people fauxcasually showing off their pumpkin-carving skills. You can’t move on Pinterest for creepy craft or cookery ideas. Facebook is full of children in increasingly elaborate fancy dress and parents with no dignity. Twitter users annually change their name to painful spooky puns (I’m “My Ghoul Hogan”, in case you were wondering).