Unfortunately, I came of age during the “sexy Halloween” era. The annual festival of all things frightening was becoming gaudier, more candy-strewn and American. But it was the Noughties, so it was also enthusiastically promoting the idea of young women being “sexy” versions of scary things. The sexy witch. The sexy devil. The sexy black cat (?). The... sexy Freddy Krueger – yes, I’m afraid so. Personally, I found this a shame, because what I wanted to be was not sexy, but a girl covered in blood. A grand guignol prom queen who burnt down her school, then her whole town. I wanted to be Carrie White.
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