The Pink Panther Had a Fro

Plastic Masks, Pillowcases, and Halloween in the late 70s.

Oh, Halloween costumes when you were a kid. They were everything! To consider the options, and to choose just the right one, was very serious business. I still remember my earliest costumes, that's how important it was to me as a child.

At three years old, I was a witch, with a plastic pointy hat and a vinyl cape. I wore them after Halloween until the hat fell apart and the cape disappeared. (That costume seems like foreshadowing...) At four I was Raggedy Ann in a dress my mom made, a touch of makeup for Ann’s face markings, and my natural curly mop instead of the yarn mop. It was a look!

Then came the years of store-bought costumes. Age five was my favorite - the Pink Panther. Age six I wanted Barbie, but since my size wasn't in stock, I got Snoopy instead. Age seven, I got Wonder Woman.

Starting with Pink Panther, my Halloween costumes entered the glorious plastic era of the late '70s and early '80s. They came with thin plastic masks with sharp edges that had elastic bands attached to the sides that went around your head to hold them on. These skinny elastic bands typically cut into the top crease of your ears. They didn't rate high on the breathability and visibility charts, either. The eye holes were cut in the general vicinity of where a child's eyes are, and holes for breathing sometimes didn't make it to the final design. This resulted in a trick-or-treating expedition spent holding the facemask by the eye holes, tugging it down just enough to see where you were walking - and avoid tripping on the sidewalk in front of Mr. Stevenson's house, where the old oak tree's roots had buckled it.

My mom took us to Kmart, where we rolled our cart into the costume aisle. The smell of plastic hung thick in the air as we searched the shelves for the box with the character and size we needed. The boxes were brightly printed with glorious images of the costume's character... while the cellophane window on the front of the box revealed the creepy version of the character's face - shiny plastic with empty holes where eyes would almost be able to peer out from - that was the mask. Under the mask was the folded coverall-style costume, made of garbage bag plastic, printed in the bright colors of the character, maybe even with a picture or logo over the belly.

We weren't fooling anyone in those costumes... they knew it wasn't Superman or Smurfette under the layers of plastic.

For me, though, these costumes had one other annoying issue. That curly mop of hair that was so perfect for Raggedy Ann? Well... behind those masks, it became an unintentional part of the costume. The Pink Panther had a lion's mane. Snoopy had a poodle cut. Wonder Woman was Diana Ross meets Diana Prince, and looked ready for Soul Train. Not only was I not fooling anyone that I was the actual character... everyone knew by the hair that it was me under all that sweaty plastic.

Those costumes were part of the Halloween rituals that I remember so clearly. The Pink Panther took me through my first Halloween involving the school parties and activities. My hair made its big debut during the costume parade. My kindergarten class toured the classes of older children. I had already noticed in the school washroom that my hair stuck up and around the edges of my mask like a halo. I tried to smooth it down, and it scoffed at me, bouncing back up to the height it was at before I tried.

The older kids noticed my hair... pointing and laughing at me. My sensitive five-year-old heart was stung, wondering for the first time if I was really pretty, or if my mom just said that because I was her child. But - I was still the Pink Panther... I loved that cat, and the costume.

Then came the main event; trick-or-treat time! Back then, we waited until almost dark. And in the cool, damp dark night, things became spooky-fun, and magical.

Fortunately, those plastic costumes were water-repellant. So I wore sweatpants and a sweatshirt underneath. And yellow sneakers - totally didn't match, but then, neither did my hair!

The decorations were simpler. Orange plastic jack-o'-lantern covers over front porch lights. Balloons with white garbage bags over them with Sharpie-drawn eyes hanging in the trees made improvised ghosts. Black garbage bags cut into chunky spider webs were taped over walls and garage doors. Cardboard cutout monsters in the windows. And jack-o'-lanterns filled with candles or flashlights. The magic was in the craftiness and imagination.

Walking through the neighborhood with some older children, family and friends, I remember noticing all the other costumes. Lots of other plastic boxed selections, and many more that were wonderfully home-made. Everything from robots wrapped in foil - complete with tissue boxes wrapped in foil over the shoes - to traditional bed sheet ghosts. We all carried pillow cases to collect our loot for the night... they were roomy and strong!

Then, the treats... ohhhhh, the treats! The variety of chocolate candy bar favorites, rolls of chalky sour candy, red licorice, fruity taffy, suckers, candy corn... mystery peanut butter chewy things that I'm not even sure anyone ate. But back then, we got some homemade goodies, too. Someone's grandma always made rice crispy treats, popcorn balls, brownies - always tied up in plastic bags and closed with twist ties. Sometimes we even got apples, oranges, pencils, or fancy erasers.

Once we got back home, nothing was consumed until it was carefully inspected for evidence of poison, razorblades, or tampering of any kind. I remember my mom and my aunt on inspection duty. We kids sat on the floor, showing off our good stuff to one another and trading what we didn't want. Whatever we wanted to eat right away we handed to the grown ups. They looked over each piece, handed it back when it passed inspection, and while we happily munched, they checked the rest so it could be put away for later.

The night ended with me crashing into bed. Before I zonked - without brushing my teeth - I insisted on having that sweaty, dirty, dented pink mask next to me. It was hot, stinky, hard to breathe through, hard to see through, and completely ridiculous.

But it was my mask. And somehow, it was part of all the magic of Halloween that I didn’t want to let go of.