What Halloween Says About Belonging And Buying Behaviors

The origin of Halloween dates back to a Celtic tradition where people left offerings for deceased loved ones and dressed as monsters and ghouls to ward off unwanted spirits that chose to walk among the living. Today, however, the driving force of Halloween’s festivities has little to do with the spiritual realm and everything to do with the dynamics of social living.

Whether you’re young or young at heart, Halloween is a participatory undertaking with a set of societal expectations that strengthen community and fuel commerce. According to the National Retail Federation, 73% of people plan to participate in Halloween-related activities this year — earning the celebration a spot on the top 10 most popular holidays in the country, among Christmas and Thanksgiving.

Participation in Halloween festivities can vary. Some adorn themselves in costumery, requesting sweet treats from neighbors and strangers alike, while others who choose not to dress up all still feel obligated to buy candy in order to acquiesce said requests. And those who choose not to engage in this exchange are met with disapproval from their neighbors. Ask any parent of “trick or treaters,” we remember the houses that kept their lights off and wouldn’t even go as far as leaving a “take one” bowl of goodies.

Yes, we judge you and keep a mental tally because to not participate means you’re not “one of us.” This isn’t about costumes and candy; this is about belonging.

The social choreography of Halloween is filled with expectations and implied pressures that influence our behavior and compel us to consume. Consumption is the only way to truly participate in the ceremony of the holiday. What started as a pagan ritual 2,000 years ago has become a $12 billion annual business.

What’s most intriguing about Halloween is the costume selection process and the underlying negotiation of meaning associated with it. Every year, people dress up as characters across a wide range of intellectual property—from superheroes to horror movie villains, sitcom characters, and notable celebrities—and a host of Halloween staples like vampires and witches. While the latter choices are tried and true, the former tends to be a rotating cast of potential options.

The number one Halloween costume of 2014 was Elsa from Disney’s Frozen. In 2017, Wonder Woman, Harley Quinn, and Pennywise from Stephen King’s It held the first, second and third spots, respectively, of that year’s most popular costumes. It’s predicted that this year’s most in-demand costume will surely be Barbie-related, to no surprise.

But, of course, it would be. Just as we’ve seen in years prior, the most concurrent characters in the cultural zeitgeist tend to be characters that people don as Halloween costumes—not just because they are popular but because they are understood.

The contemporary notion of a Halloween costume is to choose a reference that other people know of. If someone must ask, “What are you dressed as?,” to understand your costume, then you have undoubtedly failed to demonstrate a knowledge of what is most meaningful to the population. If they can’t tell, then you have either chosen poorly or curated insufficiently for others to interpret your intent. Whatever the case, this is a social miscalculation.

What’s worse is to choose a costume that people know but deem unacceptable according to the cultural conventions of the community. Imagine earnestly dressing as Donald Trump among a collective of liberals or donning Ohio State Buckeyes costumery among a group of Michigan Wolverines. Your choice would be understood, but it would not be appreciated because of the meaning that it carries.

In this frame, choosing a Halloween costume is a cultural act. It provides a means for people to signal their understanding of the social facts that govern us, demonstrate their proximity to the cultural production in which we are engaged, and, ultimately, participate in community. This performance that so many Americans undergo every October 31 helps us establish belonging — something we humans crave as social animals — by giving us another reason to come together and commune with our people.

The level of cultural understanding necessary to navigate this performance is quite nuanced. Participants must decide on a costume that will be understood by many but chosen by few. To choose an overly consumed costume chosen by many would be a social faux pas akin to wearing the same dress as many other people at a cocktail party.

We want to fit in but also stand out. This is the basis for communal existence — be like the group but also be ourselves. And this is realized by the manner in which we consume relative to the conventions and expectations of people like us.

The consumption dynamic of Halloween should be familiar to most marketers because this is the same dynamic that drives consumption the other 364 days of the year. Like the rubric we use to choose a Halloween costume, consumers choose brands based on the meaning they carry and the anticipated interpretation of those meanings by others. We choose branded products that are known by many as a way to signal cultural understanding and fit in. But we fashion them in ways that are our own in order to stand out.

To fully understand this dynamic, marketers must first understand the conventions and expectations that help the community collectively make meaning to know what it means to fit in. What’s in the zeitgeist? What’s concurrent within the community?

Secondly, marketers must understand the extent to which people are willing to go to stand out. What’s fringe? What’s acceptable among the community?

Thirdly, marketers must understand how one might accomplish both. This kind of understanding requires a tremendous level of intimacy, the kind of intimacy that can only be achieved through unprecedented proximity.