So . . . I suck at cosplay!
This blog will chronicle the stumbling attempts at cosplay by an old trans amateur who got to the game way too late. I, of course, am that translady.
The story of how I came to cosplay is pretty simple. I always wanted to cosplay, or rather, I wanted to the moment I knew it was a thing. However, I was too shy and anxious, too unsure in my capabilities of making a costume, and too indecisive about what to cosplay. After a certain age, I used my oldness as an excuse not to cosplay. The result of this balance between desire and fear was a perceived inability to do cosplay. Three years ago I went to a local con and seeing all the local cosplayers strut their costumes, from the expert to the extreme amateur, lit a fire under my ass. Finally, I felt I could dive into this and attempt to swim and I resolved to create one for the next year's con.
Worried about how I would be accepted with what I had accomplished, I decided to dip my feet in the water by doing some work on a costume for a relatively OC. Not entirely OC because the inspiration came from a particular piece of artwork in a roleplaying game book. It was a relatively simple costume, merely requiring some modification of street clothes and a 3d printed cyberarm. I finished it and wore it at the con in 2014. While only two people recognized me from the source material, most seemed to enjoy the cyberarm and the costume. There were, of course, the angry geeks that snort with derision at anyone who dares to cosplay as an OC character. These are also the jerks that love to begin debates over the literal accuracy of a cosplay. Even with these people, it was a great con and I had a marvelous time. After the experience, I knew I had to create one next year. In the following months, I knew exactly what I wanted to do and set about doing it. I immediately began work. This work was immediately rife with the joy, frustration, anticipation, and fear regarding the making and results of the costume. I burned myself with heat guns, heat knives, and glue guns. I cut myself with box cutters, exacto knives, and dremel tools. I stuck myself with sewing needles, pins, and improvised tools. But throughout the process I knew I wouldn't stop working on it. I knew that anything that might happen would prevent me from enjoying the process and excitement about wearing it. After a few months, I even added a second cosplay to my effort and even decided to compete in the beginner bracket cosplay contest.
Con came and I wore my first REAL cosplays. I was afraid. Very afraid. But that fear was quickly asswuaged by the enthusiastic responses to the first cosplay I donned for the con. As the day progressed, I simply had a ridiculous amount of fun. When it came to the evening and the competition, I donned my complex and involved cosplay. Everyone who came across me seemed to be excited by the cosplay and impressed with my efforts. Petrified and full of anticipation, I entered the competition green room. With increasing uncertainty, I watched the competitors ahead of me strut some absolutely astounding cosplays. Now certain that I didn't want to do this, I was standing behind the curtain. Before I could back down, the curtains open and I was committed. Once on the stage, hearing the applause of the crowd, blinded by the stage lights and photographers flashes, and driven by necessity of being committed to this task, the adrenaline flowed. The unadulterated joy of the stage poured into me and I felt like I was floating. It seemed as if I was on the stage for a mere second when the time came to exit. Taking the hand of the stage handler, helping me down due to the large height increasing boots I wore, I found I wanted to go right back. I collapsed into a chair to watch the following cosplays exhausted and happy. I knew I couldn't wait to do this again. My mind filled with possibilities of next years cosplay. I knew I was now addicted and I was a fool to deny this joy and hobby from my life. The cosplay had me.
That brings me to now, creating this blog to set to text the journey from an old and terrible cosplayer to an old and good cosplayer. Chronicling my joys and fears, successes and failures, and the costumes inspiring those feelings. If someone chooses to read this blog, I hope they feel a vicarious joy that these experiences have brought me. And if any of those people are afraid of diving into the dark and wondrous waters of cosplay, I hope this blog will encourage them to dive in these waters. I hope to see them at the next cons I attend, despite their age and their skill. When I do, I will beg to take their picture and share with them the unadulterated joy of the experience.
This blog will chronicle the stumbling attempts at cosplay by an old trans amateur who got to the game way too late. I, of course, am that translady.
The story of how I came to cosplay is pretty simple. I always wanted to cosplay, or rather, I wanted to the moment I knew it was a thing. However, I was too shy and anxious, too unsure in my capabilities of making a costume, and too indecisive about what to cosplay. After a certain age, I used my oldness as an excuse not to cosplay. The result of this balance between desire and fear was a perceived inability to do cosplay. Three years ago I went to a local con and seeing all the local cosplayers strut their costumes, from the expert to the extreme amateur, lit a fire under my ass. Finally, I felt I could dive into this and attempt to swim and I resolved to create one for the next year's con.
Worried about how I would be accepted with what I had accomplished, I decided to dip my feet in the water by doing some work on a costume for a relatively OC. Not entirely OC because the inspiration came from a particular piece of artwork in a roleplaying game book. It was a relatively simple costume, merely requiring some modification of street clothes and a 3d printed cyberarm. I finished it and wore it at the con in 2014. While only two people recognized me from the source material, most seemed to enjoy the cyberarm and the costume. There were, of course, the angry geeks that snort with derision at anyone who dares to cosplay as an OC character. These are also the jerks that love to begin debates over the literal accuracy of a cosplay. Even with these people, it was a great con and I had a marvelous time. After the experience, I knew I had to create one next year. In the following months, I knew exactly what I wanted to do and set about doing it. I immediately began work. This work was immediately rife with the joy, frustration, anticipation, and fear regarding the making and results of the costume. I burned myself with heat guns, heat knives, and glue guns. I cut myself with box cutters, exacto knives, and dremel tools. I stuck myself with sewing needles, pins, and improvised tools. But throughout the process I knew I wouldn't stop working on it. I knew that anything that might happen would prevent me from enjoying the process and excitement about wearing it. After a few months, I even added a second cosplay to my effort and even decided to compete in the beginner bracket cosplay contest.
Con came and I wore my first REAL cosplays. I was afraid. Very afraid. But that fear was quickly asswuaged by the enthusiastic responses to the first cosplay I donned for the con. As the day progressed, I simply had a ridiculous amount of fun. When it came to the evening and the competition, I donned my complex and involved cosplay. Everyone who came across me seemed to be excited by the cosplay and impressed with my efforts. Petrified and full of anticipation, I entered the competition green room. With increasing uncertainty, I watched the competitors ahead of me strut some absolutely astounding cosplays. Now certain that I didn't want to do this, I was standing behind the curtain. Before I could back down, the curtains open and I was committed. Once on the stage, hearing the applause of the crowd, blinded by the stage lights and photographers flashes, and driven by necessity of being committed to this task, the adrenaline flowed. The unadulterated joy of the stage poured into me and I felt like I was floating. It seemed as if I was on the stage for a mere second when the time came to exit. Taking the hand of the stage handler, helping me down due to the large height increasing boots I wore, I found I wanted to go right back. I collapsed into a chair to watch the following cosplays exhausted and happy. I knew I couldn't wait to do this again. My mind filled with possibilities of next years cosplay. I knew I was now addicted and I was a fool to deny this joy and hobby from my life. The cosplay had me.
That brings me to now, creating this blog to set to text the journey from an old and terrible cosplayer to an old and good cosplayer. Chronicling my joys and fears, successes and failures, and the costumes inspiring those feelings. If someone chooses to read this blog, I hope they feel a vicarious joy that these experiences have brought me. And if any of those people are afraid of diving into the dark and wondrous waters of cosplay, I hope this blog will encourage them to dive in these waters. I hope to see them at the next cons I attend, despite their age and their skill. When I do, I will beg to take their picture and share with them the unadulterated joy of the experience.
- 12:45 PM
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