Every year at Halloween, it’s the same thing. Somebody, somewhere, wears a costume they find attractive or funny, and somebody else, somewhere else, is offended by it—and rightfully so. Some people are uncomfortable with costumes portraying other cultures, some people find it inappropriate to colour one’s skin for impersonation of a character. Whether the intent was there or not, offence can often occur. Of course, this isn’t restricted just to Halloween. We definitely live in a more socially aware and politically correct society, especially when held in comparison to society a decade ago. In many ways, this is a wonderful thing. However, there is a major flaw behind the argument of being politically correct, and that would be the stifling of real conversation that comes with blanket censorship. This was brought to my attention in a very personal manner this week, when I learned of the existence of the “Anna Rexia” costume.
Likely brainstormed by a genius CEO somewhere who thought themselves to be very clever, the costume attempts to be sexy, featuring a tight black dress showing bones, and comes with what appears to be yellow measuring tape that can be worn around the waist. It even boasts the enlightening tagline, “You can never be too rich or too thin.” The creativity astounds me.
In case you can’t tell, I am being sarcastic. This costume, which essentially turns eating disorders into a festivity, is of poor taste and is also expensive ($50 for a flimsy dress and hair bow? No thanks!) However, as someone who has struggled with the illness for almost a decade now, this costume does not offend me.
Yes, you read that correctly. Despite my luck in overcoming that obstacle in my life , a costume meant to lightly portray my diagnosis does not offend me.
You see, the costume is not the problem. The true problem in situations like this—whether it’s the Anna Rexia costume, or anything else equally as questionable—is that instead of talking about why it is offensive and not okay, we shut down any potential conversation. We don’t ask the wearer why they chose it, or if they know anyone of that diagnosis, culture, or demographic. Well-meaning vigilantes read the riot act, dismiss any attempts at defense, and essentially shut down any actual, progressive conversation. Despite the intent of the offended and the lack of intent from the offender, more often than not, nothing is gained in raising awareness of the subject in question.
Anorexia is not sexy—unless heart concerns, kidney damage, and low bone density can be considered sexy. The “Anna Rexia” is not a realistic costume portrayal in the slightest because she is meant to look pretty and happy. Real victims of anorexia are rarely happy, always tired, and disinterested in the things they used to love. They are isolated from friends and family, often depressed, and at serious risk of death due to their impoverished bodies. I am quite confident when I say there is nothing sexy about anorexia. I cannot, and do not, expect the general public to know anorexia as I do. I too had very limited information, until of course, I lived through it myself. It is hard to be offended by someone’s ignorance when it is through no fault of their own. Topics such as eating disorders are difficult for the general public, and instead of engaging in empowering discussion, we scurry away at the first sign of discomfort. While once again well-meaning, this avoidance of conversation offends me far more than any costume.
Just as removing “Anna Rexia” from costume store shelves won’t remove anorexia as a medical diagnosis, blasting those who wear offensive costumes does nothing to educate those people about the reasons it is offensive in the first place. Perhaps, if we all tried a little less to police the actions of others and made a little more effort to educate them, costumes like “Anna Rexia” would stop being sold.