The only saving grace of my costume was the painstakingly constructed plaits that protruded gracelessly at an angle of 45 degrees out of my head, and were held rigid by vast quantities of hairspray that my roommate dug out of her closet.
I completely forgot about Halloween (read: didn’t have time to buy a decent costume), so I ended up in the attention-grabbing plaits, a long blue dress, a long blue and white necklace and a white T-shirt. I was Pocahontas. This ended up amusing a surprisingly large amount of people by virtue of the fact that I’m “Indian.” Princeton is easily amused.
But this year, I’d like to offer up a few uniquely Princetonian costume ideas. Hopefully this list will save some people the embarrassment that I faced.
Ladybug: It’s true that the last time I saw anyone dressed up as a ladybug was in the second grade, but based on the recent invasion that we are battling, this might not be a bad idea. Try to get a group of people to dress up with you so that the fact that this is a large-scale invasion of Princeton becomes clear. Go stand between Fisher Hall and Woody Woo and crawl up the walls for extra authenticity. (Special requirement: Antennae.)
Member of the Tribe: You can dress in black or white robes depending on whether you consider yourself Chief-material or not. If you’re the Chieftess, bring some followers. (Special requirement: Hotness. And attitude. And a lacrosse player.)
Out-of-work USG elections manager: Make your hair messy and greasy. Carry a stack of pages with your resume on them. Wear baggy, worn-out clothes with holes in them. If you can convince enough people, start an “Unemployed USG Elections Manager” club and walk around handing out flyers for the club’s study breaks. Tell people that you are going to hold elections for the presidency of the club, and you’re all going to manage the elections together. (Special requirement: Your resignation.)
A ‘Prince’ website commenter: Wear dark glasses and a scarf or a cap around your head to demonstrate the reassuring cover of your anonymity. Refuse to introduce yourself as anything other than “p’12,” “butler proud” or “Aztec Warrior.” Walk around saying absurd things to people designed purely to offend them. (Special requirement: Belligerence.)
Sketchy grad student: Spike your hair using hair gel, and spend the entire night lurking in dark corners, peering at people with your dark beady eyes and occasionally hitting on freshman girls with the cheesiest lines that you can think of. Use a lot of slang. Avoid the normal graduate students. Deliberately dress down. Dance wildly and inappropriately. (Special requirement: Sketchiness.)
Grade deflation: Walk around in black clothing, and hold up one red balloon with a big A on it. Every five minutes, walk up to someone and let out a little of the air in their ear. Continue this until the balloon is fully deflated, blow it up again and repeat. Alternatively, carry a dozen red balloons with A’s on them. Stand behind people and pop them loudly and obnoxiously with a curved knife. The more you irritate people, the better. Bonus points if they start yelling and you stare impassively at them as though you can’t hear a word they’re saying. (Special requirement: Dogged persistence.)
Squirrel: The furriness of the costume is not nearly as important as your attitude. Strut around campus as though you own it. Crash headlong into people and then glare at them. If you feel up to it, break into a couple of rooms or climb a tree. Bonus points if you act crazy enough to be a rabid squirrel. And remember, this is your territory — have it out with the troupe of ladybugs if you happen to run into them. (Special requirement: A complete and irrational absence of fear.)
Alternatively, just dress up as yourself. Go as a Princeton student coming straight out of midterm week. Don’t comb your hair. Wear a sweatshirt and track pants; bonus points if the colors don’t match. If you wear contacts normally, switch to glasses. Make sure there are raccoon-like dark circles under your eyes, and try and develop stress pimples. Start reciting the key dates of the establishment of Athenian democracy or linear algebra formulae at the slightest provocation. Giggle hysterically, intermittently. Alternate that with a few tears. (Special requirement: A gigantic cup of coffee. Take huge, bracing gulps of it every seven minutes.)
After all, there’s nothing more frightening than a Princeton student after midterms.
Camille Framroze is a sophomore from Bombay, India. She can be reached at framroze@princeton.edu.