One year I went as the Grim Reaper, with hooded cloak, sickle, perhaps some makeup, a bit of white color to accentuate the black, and perhaps a bit of blood as well...just for added gore. I may have even worn a rather dreaded mask of some sort...can't remember. I dressed all in black. I remember that outfit...as being one of the better ones, as it took a bit of work, and especially considering that my Mom & I used to run into K-Mart on many a Halloween night and purchase the very last of those plastic get ups...that well let's face it...make it hard to breathe, make you hot & sweaty, and often don't look that good.
I was never allowed to be anything evil for Halloween due to the Mormon upbringing, but I liked my "happy" costumes. The year my littlest sister was born (I was 5), my other little sister and my little brother and I all dressed up as ducklings. I liked the costume because it was really chilly that Halloween and the costume was lined with flannel. I'd insist on wearing it to bed on very cold nights.
Another highlight was when I wanted to be a bride for Halloween and my mom made me a wedding gown. Now that I think about it, it's a little creepy for a second grader to have been dressing up as a bride, but I looked really cute.
Once I carved a Jack-O-Latern, cut out the bottom, put a white ghost like sheet over my body, and stuck the Jack-O-Latern on my head, and went trick or treating. There was no issue really, you know, it was quite original and all, but the Pumpkin was quite large and heavy...and of course there is some smell. Overall though I liked the outfit as it was unique.
My earliest memory of halloween was going out dressed as Elvis. This was when he was just starting out and had exploded onto the scene. Way way waaaaaaaay before the vegas elvis-look which is now commonplace.
I simply had a sugar-and-water combination (the hair product of choice for the scottish working-classes) applied to give me a quiff, and half a matchstick on my tongue to push my lip up from inside my mouth. Very effective.
Anyway, my parents were too poor to give me anything, but I remember merrily making my way down the road, shouting back at them,
"That's alright mama, that's alright with me."