
With Halloween approaching, a holiday I personally dread, I am now confronted with the task of composing a costume appropriate for work (where I will be waiting tables all day). Added to the pressure of finding a costume that allows me full range of motion is the fact that I am the only woman who works in this establishment, and Halloween is a day in which women are expected to be scantily clad; dressed traditionally as sexy nurses, sexy teachers, sexy policewoman, sexy cats etc. Of course, we are not confined solely to those roles; however, Ricky’s, a store for your Halloween needs, makes me believe that alternative cases are rare and perhaps one must sew her own outfit in order to dress as anything but a sexy insert-noun-here.
It feels ironic to me that I even have to dress up as anything in a place where I don a tie, a men’s button down shirt, an apron, and some men’s skateboard shoes (they seem to hold up best after standing for 12 plus hour double shifts).
When I arrived home to vent about Halloween work costuming, discussions ensued as to what I should be, and they drifted towards how I look good in a tie. To wit, my roommate suggested I dress as Annie Hall, my favorite character from one of my favorite movies, written and directed by the Babe Ruth of film, Woody Allen. In the film Annie Hall, the female protagonist, played by Diane Keaton, subverts the feminine identity traditionally portrayed by female actresses. Annie’s secondary sexual characteristics – her behavior and attitude – exhibit her ambiguity in relation to femininity or masculinity. The stereotypical roles assumed by each sex are broken due to Annie’s duality in the film; her active and passive roles throughout the film are the part of her character that defies these gender stereotypes.
Annie’s defiance is apparent in her style of dress. (This image of Keaton is one that all should be able to recall from the memory of this classic, if not go watch or re-watch it now. I’ll wait.) Her fedora hat, necktie, and vest are items of clothing predominantly worn by men. Her loosely relaxed masculine look creates a silhouette that is as individual as the gender-bending woman. Annie’s difficulties in satisfying femininities demands can be seen as a shortcoming or imperfection or as an illusion of a strong, confident female character. Women have come a long way since Keaton’s 1977 performance. The gender-bending role has been done in the movies since and, well, for me, wearing a tie to work is no big deal.
The idea of gender performance is no new concept, yet as we see in Halloween costume stores, gender is still played up to those feminine and masculine stereotypes. What would Annie Hall be for Halloween, I wonder? Perhaps a sexy Woody Allen. Do you think Ricky’s has that in stock?
-Meagan Ciolino