Earlier this year, the internet collectively declared that 2026 would be the new 2016. And, like most prophecies born on social media, the prophecy soon became something of a self-fulfilling phenomenon. Suddenly, our feeds were flooded with Snapchat flower crowns, Kylie Jenner’s long-forgotten lip kits, aggressively saturated Instagram filters, and the turquoise-teal color palettes that once dominated our bedroom walls. The internet began rediscovering its love for everything it had spent the past decade declaring cheugy.
Perhaps nostalgia is simply another symptom of our generation’s inability to live in the present. Or perhaps, in an age where trends are born and buried within the same week, revisiting the past offers something the algorithm rarely can: familiarity.
After all, the ghosts of our digital childhoods are proving remarkably difficult to exorcize. And as Oct. 31 approaches, what better time to bring them back?
This Halloween, expect an army of Spider-Men, a parade of Nikki from Obsession ready to haunt men, and enough gladiators to fill the Colosseum. But Halloween should be about more than wearing whatever the internet has collectively decided is relevant this week.
This year, I’m advocating for a different kind of resurrection. One that involves a little cultural archaeology, an appreciation for the wonderfully ridiculous, and a willingness to dress as something that hasn’t occupied your For You Page in years.
From the reigning monarchs of Instagram to the forgotten relics of our adolescent obsessions, here are four Halloween costumes worth digging out of the pop culture graveyard.
King Kylie: The return of a reigning monarch
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If 2026 really is the second coming of 2016, then no costume could be more fitting than returning to the era’s most influential ruler: King Kylie.
This was peak Kylie Jenner. At least, according to the internet’s collective opinion. The pink and turquoise hair, dramatic overlined lips, the bodycon dresses, the endless mirror selfies, the Lip Kit empire. Before “clean girl” minimalism ironed personality out of beauty culture, Kylie represented something louder. She was the patron saint of the Instagram era at its most unapologetic.
As a Halloween costume, King Kylie works because it is instantly legible to anyone who lived through the period, but still specific enough to feel more thoughtful than a generic celebrity costume. It is also relatively easy to recreate: a bright wig, a matte nude lip, a tank top and shorts, heavy lashes, and just the right amount of attitude.
After all, if we’re bringing 2016 back from the dead, it’s only right that we resurrect its reigning monarch.
Katy Perry: A teenage dream dipped in sugar
Before irony consumed everything, Katy Perry gave us pop stardom in its most candy-coated form.
Cupcakes, whipped cream, heart-shaped bras, pastel wigs, cartoon glamour—her aesthetic was theatrical, hyper-feminine, and gloriously unserious. She made pop music feel like a sweet shop exploded on stage, and the result was iconic.
A Katy Perry costume, particularly one inspired by her “candy” era, feels perfect for 2026’s nostalgia wave. It taps into a time when pop culture was bold, bright, and unafraid of looking silly.
It is camp. It is kitsch. It is everything.
Lady Gaga: The patron saint of fashionably unhinged
If Halloween is an annual invitation to abandon the boundaries of conventional dressing, then Lady Gaga has been celebrating it every day of her life.
Few artists have treated fashion with such gleeful disregard for practicality. Where others saw clothing as something to wear, Gaga saw an opportunity to create an entire show. And nobody did “show” quite like Gaga.
The “Fame Monster” era, in particular, occupies a sacred place in the collective memory of anyone who grew up listening to Bad Romance, Poker Face, and Telephone. The looks she debuted during this era weren’t merely outfits. They were miniature performances, equal parts fashion, absurdism, and visual art.
The best part? There is an almost inexhaustible archive to choose from.
Consider the caution-tape ensemble from the Telephone music video, a look that managed to transform an ordinary strip of yellow plastic into a fashion statement. Or the cigarette-covered sunglasses and chain-heavy accessories look, which perfectly capture Gaga’s early fascination with turning everyday objects into wearable art.
For those willing to exercise a little engineering, there’s the sculptural origami-inspired headwear or the infamous Coca-Cola cans repurposed as hair rollers.
With such an extensive archive of iconic looks to choose from, why not make it a group affair? Gather your friends, each embodying a different era of Gaga, and turn Halloween into your very own retrospective of pop culture’s most gloriously eccentric fashion icon.
What makes Gaga such a compelling choice is that her style was never just about looking conventionally beautiful. It was about being unforgettable, too. So this Halloween, take a page from Mother Monster’s book.
Be strange. Be theatrical. Be iconic.
Starbucks Unicorn Frapuccino: A sugar-coated feverdream
There are few beverages more emblematic of the late 2010s than the Unicorn Frappuccino: aggressively colorful, widely photogenic, and entirely designed for the internet. For a brief, sugary moment, it was everywhere. If you were online at the time, you probably saw it — in Boomerangs, Instagram posts, overly filtered photos, and breathless reactions from people determined to taste something that looked like liquid glitter. It was not so much a drink as a cultural event.
Which is precisely what makes it such a good Halloween costume.
You could take the costume literally and dress as the drink itself—whipped cream, pastel colors, perhaps a straw perched overhead like a crown. Or you could go in a slightly easier direction and interpret it through the broader unicorn aesthetic that rules the era: iridescent fabrics, rainbow hair, glitter, and a general refusal to believe in subtlety.
Ridiculous? Absolutely. But then again, so was paying for a fluorescent pink beverage just to photograph it. And if we’re going to resurrect the absurdities of our digital childhoods, we might as well do it in full technicolor.
Annica Tantoco Valbuena writes a regular column for The Philippine STAR called wait, why?.
