A teen or someone wearing a costume of a culture/identity that does not belong to them and half their body is fragmenting into small shards that are falling away. The background to the right of them being shadow figures of other people looking upon them.
Halloween is supposed to be a night of imagination, a chance to step into someone else’s shoes, even if only for an evening. But what happens when those shoes belong to someone whose identity has been mocked or misrepresented? Every October, social media fills with pictures of people in “exotic,” “tribal” or “traditional” costumes that imitate cultures they don’t belong to. What’s often brushed off as a creative idea is actually cultural appropriation: the act of taking or using elements of another culture, especially one that has faced oppression, without understanding or respect.
Even though Halloween is meant to be fun, wearing costumes that stereotype another culture is not acceptable. What may seem like just a “joke” reinforces those stereotypes, normalizes insensitivity and spreads damaging messages. Apps like TikTok and Instagram reward shock value, encouraging users to post “edgy” looks that go viral for the wrong reasons. The more these posts circulate, the more harmful costumes become normalized.
Social media’s influence on cultural appropriation is complicated. On one hand, it has created awareness through movements like #IAmNotACostume, a campaign that began on Tumblr and spread onto Instagram against it. On the other hand, the same platforms amplify the very behavior they condemn. Offensive costumes shared for attention or humor can reach millions overnight, making mockery trendier than respect.
In 2024, a TikTok video of college students wearing blackface to imitate rapper Sean “Diddy” Combs went viral, sparking backlash online. While thousands condemned the act, the clip’s rapid spread revealed how quickly disrespectful portrayals turn into entertainment.
This pattern shows up every year, especially in how companies market “cultural” costumes for profit. Think about the “Indian princess,” geisha kimono or “Hawaiian” costumes still sold at major retailers every fall. Even dressing as rappers or wearing “shiestys,” durags or belly chains as accessories takes cultural fashion out of context. These aren’t tributes; they’re caricatures that reduce entire cultures into aesthetics.
According to the First Nations Development Institute, the mass-produced “Indian princess” costume perpetuates dehumanization by romanticizing stereotypes of Indigenou
s and Native American women. A study from Manchester Metropolitan University adds that Halloween costumes often represent “neglected but important” examples of how fashion and media erase cultural context. Even a single outfit can reinforce stereotypes.
Philosopher Erich Hatala Matthes breaks cultural appropriation into three types: theft, misuse and misrepresentation. Halloween costumes often fall into the third category; they misrepresent cultures by exaggerating or distorting sacred symbols, traditions and clothing for fun. When someone without Indigenous heritage dresses as Pocahontas, they’re not celebrating Native culture; they’re flattening an entire community into a movie character. These choices turn deeply personal attributes into temporary trends.
Some argue that dressing up in another culture’s clothing is appreciation, not appropriation. They say people today are “too sensitive” or that Halloween is just about pretending. But appreciation and appropriation aren’t the same. Appreciation means “the recognition and enjoyment of the good qualities of something,” while appropriation means “the taking of something for one’s own use without permission.” The difference lies in respect: appreciation learns from culture, appropriation takes from it.
A Pew Research Center survey found that 34 percent of Americans think blackface in a Halloween costume is “always or sometimes acceptable,” and 58 percent said it’s acceptable to wear traditional dress from another culture as a Halloween costume. A contrasting College Fix poll found that 55 percent of college students believed offensive costumes should face disciplinary action.
For Gen Z, whose lives and trends revolve around online platforms, the power to change this culture lies in our hands. Instead of liking, reposting or laughing at offensive costumes, we can choose to elevate respect, representation and responsibility–especially when the youth often look up to teens and their actions.
Before putting on a costume this Halloween, ask yourself: Do I understand this outfit’s background? Would someone from this culture find it disrespectful? Am I celebrating a culture or using it for attention? If the answer makes you hesitate, it’s probably not the right choice. Our creativity doesn’t need to come at someone else’s expense. We can still be imaginative, just without ignorance. Because when culture becomes a costume, we all lose something real: respect.
