We never encounter this problem on Arbor Day

Around this time of year, a weird insect outbreak always takes place. You’ve probably seen it yourself: this is the season of the Sexy Ladybug. In five-inch heels, a sexy ladybug is usually around 5’9”, has a red shell with black polka-dots, fishnet stockings, smells like alcohol, and has some sort of headband with antenna on it that disappears before the end of the night. The Sexy Ladybug is found at bars, Halloween parties, and walking down the street after midnight on campus. It may be accompanied by Sexy Santa's Elf, and Sexy M&M, and it irritates the hell out of me.

What do I have against Sexy Ladybugs? How about everything? First of all, they are giant bugs. Would you want a giant bug walking down the street next to you? Not me. I’ve read Metamorphosis, and I think the story should have ended when the family discovered the giant roach: Splat! Dead Gregor, problem solved. There is no such thing as a cute bug. Anything that could end up mistaken for a raisin in my cereal is not okay with me, sexy or not.

Second of all, real ladybugs would never wear high heels. The job of a ladybug is to circle our light bulbs until they get dizzy and then fall on our coffee tables so we can scoop them up and take them outside. A ladybug in heels would be all weighed down and would never be able to fly. Furthermore, a real ladybug would never wear fishnet stockings. Fishnets look waaaaaaaaaaay too much like a spider web, and I am certain that ladybugs grow up learning to stay away from the spider’s lair. Donning something like that would be like one of us wearing a suit made out of crack in a bad neighborhood. That is why I only wear my crack suit in nice neighborhoods. And sometimes to the gym.

And I know that some of you are saying to yourself, “It sounds to me like this blog is really describing a sexy Japanese beetle, and not a sexy ladybug.” Point taken. I don’t care.

But most of all, and most irritating to me, is the whole idea of the sexy ladybug/Japanese beetle. And the whole sexy costume genre in general. No longer is it okay for a woman to dress as an old lady, or a ghost, or a park ranger. Now, we have to be a sexy old lady, or a sexy ghost, or a sexy park ranger. Why? Why has Halloween turned into an affair where women are expected to show as much skin as possible?

My theory is this: we live in a repressed, judgmental, puritanical society where we walk around, on a daily basis, blaming women showing any overt signs of sexuality for all of the evils of the world. If you’re a sideline sports reporter and are sexually harassed by the players on the football team you’re reporting on, it’s your fault for wearing tight jeans and being too hot. For some reason, you deserve it. If you are a woman who goes to a club, wears a form-fitting dress, drinks too much and get raped in the bathroom, you run the risk of the police deciding that you consented to sex. If you’re a single woman, and a married man sends you suggestive text messages and voice mails, you’re the home wrecking tramp, and he’s just an innocent victim. And it’s not just men saying these things, women buy into this malarkey, too! So this impossible situation is created where women are expected to condemn other women for dressing how they would like, but if we want to dress like that, we have to find an excuse to do so. Enter Halloween.

Women feel like the only way we can safely express our sexuality is by pretending to be someone, or something else, and then dressing the way that we want. A ladybug. A French maid. Snookie. It’s all okay on October 31st, but if a woman dares to suggest that she is anything but a demure little innocent on November 1st, she is nothing but a dirty slut or a stripper. (Or Lady Gaga – but even if you look at her, I don’t think her parents named her Lady Gaga. She is playing a part, too. She’d be more interesting if she went by Miriam Finkelstein, or whatever her real name is.)

So here’s my suggestion: this Halloween, ditch the high heels, ditch the stupid bug costume, and just be your own damn sexy self. Make no apologies, and don’t let anyone tell you that you deserve to be treated any way except for with dignity and respect. And save your Halloween candy for me because, seriously, I want it.