I just spent an amazing holiday weekend having fun with friends. We dressed up as the cast of the Wizard of Oz, with yours truly as the Wicked Witch. After handing out candy to various charmingly dressed young people, we went to a dance where I realized that on some fundamental level I have always needed to be holding a broom while I boogied.

Our Dorothy, a radiant young friend of mine, cut out early, before the costume contest. I felt a moment of panic--what's the cast of the Wizard of Oz without Ms Gale? But this problem was quickly solved: another Dorothy was at hand. She too was dressed in blue and white checked gingham. She too had put her hair in pigtails. She would definitely do. There was, however, one fundamental difference between her rendition of this character and ours.

She was Slutty Dorothy.

Now this was an adult dance. And I am certainly no prude. We took first prize and were wildly popular, Slutty Dorothy or no. But it did lead me to ruminate one more time on the bizarre turn that Halloween has taken. I don't mean the by now accepted fact that women feel free to express themselves in erotic ways on this holiday. I mean the unaccountable tarting up of characters that don't have any association with sexuality. Like the tin man for example. As I was cruising the internet for ideas, I was dismayed and perplexed when I ran across a Slutty Tin Man costume. Huh? No, it wasn't even for men, the MAN in Tin Man notwithstanding. The outfit consisted of a tiny tin tube, allowing for maximum exposure of female flesh. I'm sorry, this is just weird.

I've seen Slutty Bumblebees, Slutty Raggedy Anns, Slutty Cowboys--the list goes on and on. In fact, Christa Getz, the purchasing director of Buycostumes.com says that 90-95% of all female costumes send a sexual message. The company has had to break their "sexy" category into three divisions this year just to accommodate all the erotica!

Isn't it lovely to think that women are getting in touch with our sexuality? Isn't it hard to believe that this is what the corporate co-opting and commodification of Halloween means? Yep it is. I believe that this show of flesh is less a sign that we are free than proof that we remain trapped in limited definitions of what it means to be a woman. What if we weren't attracting male attention? What if we expressed ourselves in non-sexual ways? What if, what if, what if?

I'll tell you what if. We'd be having an amazing time. How do I know? Because this is exactly what I have been doing for the last few years. I have gone on Slutty Strike. Let other women convince you that they want to be your Slutty Cavegirl. I would rather please myself than you. And the results are marvelous.

It started last year when my friend Jan and I decided to be Thing 1 and Thing 2 from the Cat in the Hat. This decision directly assaulted the unspoken but pervasive dictate that we signal our sexual attractiveness in extreme ways on Halloween. As I dressed for the evening, in an enormous red bag, with a blue fright wig and whiteface, I was unsure how it would feel to mingle with a roomful of sexy women and the men they were trying to attract. Well, it felt great! I'd never danced so freely, I'd never felt so free, I'd never been as free. It was one of the best nights of my life.

Oh yeah and we attracted a lot of attention and won the costume contest.

But the victory for me was an internal one. I don't have to make you think that I am hot to feel valuable or special or deserving. YAY! Let me repeat that. YAY!

And lest you think that one middle-aged woman's personal victory over her own internalized sexism is a private matter, please note that the sexualization of Halloween costumes for women has now extended itself down into the girl category, with elementary school aged females feeling pressured to be sexy on Halloween. Yes, you read that right. According to GenderPac, "The traditional pirate, witch, and school teacher costumes for girls now have a sexy or vixen undertone to them. Costumes are outfitted with miniskirts, leather high-heel boots, shirts that expose the mid drift, low-cut corsets, and other overtly sexualized accessories."

I look back on my childhood Halloweens, when I was an old man (with a full beard my wonderful brother Pete, a theater major, affixed hair by hair), a pair of dice (with my friend James), a hippie (with a sign that said "don't trust anyone over 8). I was free to let my imagination run wild and I did. I was whatever clever thing I could think of. What I wasn't was Slutty. How lovely to come full circle, to get to play with the freedom of a child and hand this sexist culture back its imperative that I define myself--and our girl children--as objects of sexual desire.

Won't you join me next year?