So, Two Weekends Ago - This Happened...

What do you call it when 135+ of your closest reenacting friends decide to get together and mob Southern Renaissance Faire for a day?

German Invasion of course!

Pictures! (*Because not only did it happen...but it was AWESOME!)

Seriously though. This event may become an annual thing. And since this year is the 50th Anniversary of Renaissance Faire (thank YOU Pattersons!) we may be having another one of these the last weekend of September at the Casa de Fruta Renaissance Festival (the event that 'took over' up in Northern California when the *original* Northern Faire passed into the great beyond). 

(no subject)

Invasion Stories:

1)   First of all, the weekend of Invasion was the weekend of driving hell. We started our traveling on Friday, heading from mid-CA up to Sacramento for a wedding rehearsal and dinner. Friday night saw us backtracking South about an hour to our overnight location, and then up until late, Late, *LATE* with the bride while hubby worked out final details for the ceremony (silly vows, why do you take so long?). Oh yeah, hubby was the minster at this shin-dig.

It’s amazing what $5 on the internet can get you (“Licenses to marry friends and relatives, oh my!”).

Then Saturday, the wedding. Wonderful event. Great friends (whom we love and adore seeing) in droves. Medium-weight organizational lifting on the part of hubby and me as we managed to take ‘Plan, What Plan?’ and force it to move forward on a timeline.

Mostly. ;)

Left the reception at 8:00ish and headed 2.5 hours South to home. Got in and attempted to sleep. Attempted being the operative word. Three hours or so later, we were on the road to LA for Southern faire.

OMG. There is a reason I haven’t done this sort of Mulit-Eventing Crap since I was in my early 20’s.

Screw it. It was SO worth it…

2)  Hubby and I showed up and after the normal amount of “No, You Have To Go Stand In This Line; THEN In That Line; THEN Go Through The Magic Gate” we stepped foot in the ‘hallowed grounds’ of Southern Renaissance Faire for the first time in nearly 10 year.

Despite a 10 years absence, quickly discovered that our friends were still ale-stand managers.

Free beer = THE BEST BEER! (Especially when it’s Bass and Guinness in ice cold pewter mugs).

3)  Upon arriving in camp we were swamped with familiar faces, hugs, kisses, offers of ‘Oh No Officer, That Is Certainly Not Off-Site Beer!’ for our mugs, food, stories, screams of laughter, feathers, leather, wool, slash-n-puff, old friends, new friends, HOLY FUCK THIS IS OUR FAMILY!, etc.

I have determined, as a result, that Heaven (if it exists) is one long, warm afternoon spent lazing in the shade with a cold brew, a pile of Landsknects/Frau, and Jessica telling one story after another with THIS look on her face…

Oh  Oh yeah…and a little of THIS thrown in on occasion…

And just to screw with the local English populations. Let’s take over the parade…

6)   4) Group photos almost killed me. The first one just sort of spontaneously exploded on the ‘front porch’ of the camp after the guys assembled for muster. The second happened after the Queen had been deposited on her stage after progress.

7)

( Fuck. Yes. We. Are. Pretty. )

In conclusion, someday I want to grow up to be as BAD ASS as Shannon…

As Pretty As Jess...


And as Loved as Reba (I am so sorry you didn't make it out for this one honey, it would have been a hell of a send-off. RIP. *cries*)

Fuck This Sewing Shit

For Gala this year, I am coming as this hot piece of tail...


Make that SMOKING hot...


At first there was angsting about finding a vintage tux, cutting it down to size, tailoring a white waistcoat, etc. 

Then I realized: THEY RENT THESE THINGS. They rent them right down to their shiny patent leather shoes and carefully folded hanki square. Then I found out how much they rent them for (especially when the guy who owns the rental shop is the one helping you and he is *clearly* excited about the idea of you showing up for a costume gig in this number).

SOLD.

"But hsifeng! The point of your Gala outfit is to slave over it for months; crying tears of blood from your fingertips and tears of cash from your bank account! You can't possibly RENT your Gala costume! That's cheating!"

Blah blah blah...

I hear your argument, and I counter with this: Part of costuming is Knowing Your Resources.

If you are doing costume work for theater or screen and you have to come up with a tuxedo for a cast member, you don't sew that bastard from scratch (unless you are insane or you have a no-limit-corporate-credit-card and private jet to Hong Kong where they can knock that tux out in less than three hours using hands smaller than your iPod). 

You BUY it. Or in this case, rent it. 

And yeah, it would fit me better if I had the thing tailored. But seriously? It's for one night and I am modeling a woman who loved to drag it up in men's fashion on occasion.

I'm going to channel Greta** Marlene and go with boy clothes. ThankYouVeryMuch.

;)


**The internet is FULL OF FAIL. As both claughter713and grlfuryboth pointed out - this particular hot blond is Marlene Dietrich, not Greta Garbo. Apparently my 'Want To Dress Like The Pretty German Women' thing is still in full effect no matter what century I choose to play dress up in. I have no problem with this...

PS: Don't freak out. I am still sewing. I am just sewing on things that will actually remain productive parts of my costume closet for years (ie Things Not From The Last Century). 

PPS: I hereby claim First Official Drag Privileges at CoCo. If I see anyone else out there in this outfit I am going to demand a drink in reparations payment. This is how you avoid the tangled web of telling everyone in advance what your Super Secret Gala Outfit is... *chuckle*

PPPS: *psst* Meet me at the Gala, I'll be the one wearing the big, white flower.