Pop quiz point. Halloween represents: a) A sorry indictment of the Americanisation of our culture. Whatever betid to a penny for the guy, eh? b) Sweets. c) An outfit that requires weeks of delineating, which is unusual for you, as you generally can’t commit to anything more than 24 hours in go forward. If you answered a), you are over 50. If you answered b), you are under 14. If you riposted c), you are a millennial.

Halloween is now essentially Coachella with fake blood as an alternative of false eyelashes. In the modern calendar, the day looms, suddenly, thickset. As the rites and rituals that ebbed away along with church congregations are make good oned by new ones rooted in fashion, celebrity and popular culture, Halloween turns ever more prominent. When spring comes almost, we don’t make Easter bonnets any more, we make flower rulers for summer festivals. The day pumpkin spiced lattes are back at Starbucks is now bigger than Shrove Tuesday. And Halloween purpose soon be bigger than Christmas. At which point, we are essentially Gentile again, I guess.

Emily Ratajkowski as Marge Simpson. Photograph: Andrew Toth/WireImage

The prominence of Halloween can be tracked in costumes. Twenty years ago, if you were effective trick-or-treating, you nagged your mum into giving you an old sheet that you could cut eyeholes in, trained saying “woo-hoo” and waving your arms around a bit, and that was your “look” sorted. So low was the prominence of Halloween in those days that sometimes the only fitted sheet you were allowed to chop up wasn’t even white. And you had to represent do with being a floral ghost. As Halloween began to shimmer brighter on the radar, the date became an excuse for a party, and so the dresses became themed versions of on-the-pull outfits. Witches began a penchant for cheap, red satin bustier tops and leery winks, and their dusky cats for fishnet tights and cutesy ears.

But Halloween outgrew the vulgar cat. The fishnet-era Halloween costume is now dead. I mean, it’s still all once again Amazon, but it is now basic, which is obviously way worse than tired out. The alpha Halloween costume of the 00s is one that semaphores your completion reading of the zeitgeist. So, in 2014 one went as Iris Apfel, in 2015 as Cecil the Lion and in 2016 as Beyoncé in her Lemonade tear someone off a strip. At its most basic, foot-soldier level, the Halloween costume distinctly says that you are up to date on cool box set-type viewing. Ultimate year, that meant glasses and a frilly jumper (Barb from Alien Things), this year it is a red cloak and a white bonnet (Offred the handmaid).

Kaia Jordan Gerber at the Tequila Casamigos annual Halloween Bash. Photograph: Startraks Photo/Rex/Shutterstock

At the other notable, it gives celebrities whose job involves endlessly reinventing their tiki – a new hair colour, a baby bump, whatever it takes – the dream opportunity for a makeover. The Kardashians are major fans of a Halloween photo possibility. In 2014, Kim as Anna Wintour with North West as André Leon Talley was condign one of several costumes.

Halloween is a release valve on societal means. We get to take a day off from good behaviour and be naughty. Or from respectability, by embracing sluttiness. So it gets sense that in the stultifying vanity of now, that release valve has grace about having a chance to look unpretty. See Katy Perry as Hillary Clinton, or Emily Ratajkowski as Marge Simpson, or Liv Tyler as a bun in the oven in esteem of her pregnancy. These costumes are compelling as much for the novelty of recognizing women in the public eye putting red-carpet levels of effort into looking simpleton rather than gorgeous as they are for their originality and their witticisms.

Katy Perry as Hillary Clinton. Photograph: Broadimage/Rex/Shutterstock

There is no of a piece of the little black dress when it comes to Halloween threads. On a holiday that celebrates pop culture, being up to date substances more than anything else. Which helps obtain Halloween the perfect celebration for a generation with zero notoriety span. Last weekend, however, invites to the Casamigos group co-hosted by George and Amal Clooney came retro-stamped with a 70s outfit code. (The Casamigos do has become the Halloween party to be seen at, a compassionate of Los Angeles version of the White House Easter egg roll, administrated over by the west coast’s first couple.) Kaia Gerber, daughter of Cindy Crawford, accredited her new position at the top of the fashion-celebrity tree with her Elvira-from-Scarface look, which refunded homage to a blue-chip, and very grown-up, style icon. Kim Kardashian dropped as Cher, presumably choosing from a brief shortlist ordered after Googling “hot women from the 70s who wore bra tops”.

For the leftovers of us, unbound by the Clooney invite, the costume options are endless. You could be Melania. Or Marvel Woman. Or Beyoncé’s birth announcement. Or Kim Jong-un. Or Salt Bae. Or Vladimir Putin. Or Paul Manafort. The one upside of a smashing that has gone completely mad? Halloween now makes perfect feeling.