I didn't Halloween in the Big City. We grew up rural and without much money. Which meant Halloween's required the inventive powers of Gilligan's Island's Professor but we generally pulled something together that was more Lucy Riccardo.
My first costume that stood out was when I was in first grade. I was a hobo. That meant I had a big do rag and a wooden tree branch with a nap sack at the end of it. It was fun in first grade. Less so when I had to repeat it.
Ghosts really weren't costumes we did. Not because we didn't care for Casper. If we had been able to get a store bought Casper costume, we would have gone as him in a heart beat. But African-Americans aren't generally going to put a white sheet on and poke eye holes in it -- no matter how cheap it might be to wear such a costume. "Are you Casper?" might be how we were greeted but it's just as likely we'd be asked, "Why are you dressed like the KKK?"
"What are you going as?" was always the big question at school in the lead up to the holiday.
And, for me, Halloween's always been more about dressing up than about candy. Even now.
I've spent countless hours trying to figure out what I'll be going as this year. To help whittle down my list of possibilities, I asked my boyfriend if we wanted to think about going in complimentary costumes?
The answer was "no" then a shocked look as he grasped he wasn't as into Halloween as I was. Few people ever are.