Dear Man Whores,
As Halloween approaches, my Facebook feed is becoming increasingly more not-safe-for-work because the parties have begun, and many of you are showing off your costumes (or lack thereof) with pictures that appear to have been captured from the set of your bizarre, gay porn.
Since when did Halloween become about showing off your abs, torso, and/or bulging man panties? Whatever happened to the true reason of the season: scaring the shit out of timid, little children? At what point in your life was your costume selection dedicated to the hopes that people will later masturbate to memories of you dressed as Mickey Mouse? And while we’re on the subject, since when did Mickey Mouse wear tiny, red Speedo trunks? You, sir, have ruined my childhood.
If you’re capable of shamelessly appearing in public as a mailman whose uniform substantially shrank in the wash, what’s stopping you from just covering your wang with a potato and calling yourself a dick-tator (thanks for that one, Mom)? What’s keeping you from popping your junk in a tube sock and calling yourself a Red Hot Chili Pepper? At what point do you say, “That’s too far”? Is it when you have to consult local decency laws prior to leaving the house/apartment?
I noticed this trend at its apex in 2007, when homosexuals single-handedly revitalized the obsolete leather underwear industry by dressing as extras from the movie 300. Suddenly, I always found myself feeling awkwardly overdressed and wondering if I had accidentally wandered into Eyes Wide Shut after arriving at a Halloween party, uncomfortable that these nearly naked men will unexpectedly start having sex with each other.
But do you guys not realize that skimpy Halloween costumes have jumped the shark? Nowadays, a costume that pushes the envelope of public nudity is a caricature of your desperate need for attention and admiration. Additionally, it’s ridiculous. Firemen are never shirtless when extinguishing infernos, sequin thongs were never a part of a Native American’s wardrobe, butlers do not wear spandex tights, hazmat suits are dangerously ineffective without sleeves, and real cowboys wear denim jeans beneath their “assless” chaps. Oh, and to those that prance around Halloween parties in nothing but underwear, you don’t look sexy; you look poor (and come across as tragically unimaginative). What would your grandmother think? How would you explain this costume to your little nephew?
Don’t get me wrong. I’m not bitter or jealous, nor am I ashamed of my own body. I just prefer to celebrate the holiday respectably, not Trick ‘r Tramping. Besides, I have nothing to prove and am confident enough in myself that I don’t need to remove my clothes. The only time you will see me undressed in public is at a swimming pool, maybe on stage, or on my street if it’s late at night and my house is on fire.
I’m not saying “don’t be gay,” and I’m not telling you to be ashamed of your bodies. I’m simply asking why can’t we be gay with dignity. Let’s save the leather underwear for the bedroom role-playing fantasies and fetish videos.
by Cary Vaughn (2014)