A phrase you’ll hear tossed around with insistence and irritation among cosplayers is “screen accurate”. People will ask if you’re going for “screen accurate” with a costume, or one might bitch to another about getting “screen accurate” hair. Screen accuracy is just a way to talk about how much your costume and acoutrements look like the character’s as they appear on the screen (or page), and an important step in putting together your costume is deciding where you stand on the accuracy issue.
Some cosplayers are sticklers for accuracy, focusing on details and perfect replication. Other cosplayers, not so much. To help you decide which direction to lean, we’re going to talk about wearability, travel, recognition, and skill level and how these concerns can be impacted by accuracy. For each concern, we’ve presented a point-counterpoint argument, with the lovely Sabine arguing in favor of screen accuracy and Shadowen arguing against.
This debate can get rough, so gird your loins, fellow cosplayers. Unless, of course, your costume calls for nudity.
Wearability
Shadowen: When putting together your costume, the fact should be foremost in your mind that you’re going to be wearing it all damn day. As we’ve discussed, what you plan to do at the con should factor into choosing a costume, and it should also factor into making the costume itself. Sometimes, that means sacrificing accuracy for the sake of wearability. I’m of the opinion that comfort and function are more important than strict screen accuracy.
Sabine: Wearability is essential for a costume that's going to con with you. However, wearability and screen accuracy don't have to be mutually exclusive; off the top of my head, here are some costumes that are comfortable and easily replicable: Han Solo, Indiana Jones, the Firefly crew, Dethklok, etc, etc.
Travel
Sabine: As previously mentioned, a screen accurate costume doesn't necessarily have to be hard to pack or travel with. Another question with travel: do you really want to travel with your costume? Being able to tote a costume around is great, but part of making a really screen accurate costume is having a showpiece. Do you need to carry it to con, or are you content with posting your pictures online or basking in the glow of the approval of your costumer friends?
Shadowen: Say you want to do this fantastic showpiece. You have a plan. It’ll be seven feet glorious feet of papier mache and will look exactly like it does on the show. You’ve got the skill, the money, the time, and the motivation. In theory, this is a great idea. If you’re driving to the con in a sedan with three other people, not so much. Likewise, if you have to take an especially delicate costume piece on an airplane. Adjusting your costuming with travel limitations in mind might make the end result less accurate, but it can also save you a lot of grief.
Recognition
Shadowen: I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: Every costume has some aspect that makes it iconic and recognizable, whether it’s a particular jacket, a certain tattoo, or an especially fierce hat. As long as you hit those high points, you’ve got room to maneuver on everything else. Like these guys. You don’t need to get all the details right, just the right details.
Sabine: Even for those costumes, the process of creating that iconic element exactly as it appears in the source material can be incredibly rewarding. But why stop there? Let's take Rimmer from Red Dwarf, as an example. Anybody can be a hologram with a silver H on their head, but how much more awesome is it to make the full uniform (or a lovely gingham dress)?
Skill level
Sabine: An accurate costume is really a chance to show off your skills. There's an incredible amount of joy in getting that one piece exactly like it's supposed to look. From armor to intricate beading, a screen accurate costume can show exactly what you're made of. However, a costume doesn't have to be hard or even entirely handmade to be screen accurate.
Shadowen: If you’ve got mad style skills, taking on the challenge of exact accuracy can be a thrill beyond measure. On the other hand, if you’re going to your first con and just learning to work your sewing machine, going for perfect screen accuracy might leave you with little more than bent needles and a broken spirit. That’s not to say that you shouldn’t challenge yourself or that you can’t have an accurate costume with minimal skills, but know what you’re able and willing to do. Say you’re hell bent, for instance, on cosplaying Padme Amidala - Let’s be honest, here, we’ve all fantasized about those costumes - but you’ve never made anything more complex than a flounced skirt and you have no idea how to make your hair defy gravity. Try going for a simpler version of one of those mind blowing dresses or the skin-tight white number from Attack of the Clones.
As always, it comes down to priorities. If what you want is a perfect, accurate costume, make it happen and find a way to manage the difficulties. If you’re looking for a more relaxed con experience, you might have to sacrifice a little on your costuming. Either way or anywhere in between, we wish you luck and remind you that this shit is supposed to be fun.
Wednesday, June 1, 2011
Wednesday, May 18, 2011
Concept to Costume: Steampunk
Hello! It is I, Sabine, and today I'll be showing you what I've been working on recently, my first from-scratch steampunk costume.
Concept
For a good steampunk costume, you need to have a strong concept. In most cosplay, when you're replicating a character, you already have that element ready, but for steampunk, you have to grow your own. There are many, many different kinds of people you can emulate, and if you don't have a strong sense of what you're doing, all you'll end up with is a mishmash.
For this costume, I decided to go in a different direction than most steampunk. Most steampunk emulates the dress of the middle to upper classes, so I decided to make a working class girl. Here's the concept I started from:
Madeline Ozell started out as a mill working girl; to be more precise, she was a spinner. Spinners occupied a middle position in the social hierarchy of the mill: not as fancy as the weavers, but not as desperate as the dye workers. In <em>The Classic Slum</em>, which you really should have read yesterday, Robert Roberts describes the attire of the spinners in the late Victorian/Edwardian era:
"[B]ecause of the heat and slippery floors, women worked barefoot, dressed in little more than calico shifts. These garments, the respectable believed, induced in female spinners a certain kind of moral carelessness. [...] Clogs and shawls were, of course, standard wear for all."
Needless to say, when the airship captains started poaching girls from the mills to work in their engine rooms, Madeline jumped at the chance.
Madeline's found that working on the airship isn't all that different from spinning; she's somewhere in the middle, between the fancy ladies and the stokers. Still, she's moved far up in the world, and her clothing is beginning to show it. She's still wearing her old calico shift, but she's replaced her homespun shawl with a fancier one and her clogs with a good pair of boots. She keeps the tools of her trade around her waist and her goggles and gloves securely fastened- for safety, you know. She's coarse but proud, with a tendency to mouth off a little, especially when she's embarrassed.
The Costume
The costume basically breaks down like this:
-shawl
-calico shift
-gloves
-goggles
-toolbelt
--purse
--drill and holster
-boots
The shawl I won't be discussing, because it was store-bought. It's not entirely accurate, but it's good enough for steampunk. The toolbelt I'll be detailing in a separate entry, because man this post got long fast, because this costume has a whole lot of pieces.
Shift
The pattern I used was Simplicity 7215. Far as I can tell, it's no longer available, but 9769 is apparently the same thing with new packaging and added drawers. This pattern is for an 1860's chemise; the only real differences between these and the shifts that mill workers wore (which I have been trying forever to find a reference picture of) is in the neckline, detailing, and length of sleeves. I probably could have gotten closer, but I also wanted something that would be flattering to my body type and easily accessible.
I bought the pattern and calico when I started this concept, which was, pfft, years ago. The calico is a lovely muted blue and brown vine pattern- I really couldn't tell you what brand it was or if it's still made, but I quite like it.
The pattern is complicated but not that hard (unless you intend to flat-fell all the seams like it tells you to, in which case you're a braver woman than I), so I only have a few notes on it. First of all, one of the reasons I chose this pattern was because of the sizing. I am, it must be noted, a large lady, and the pattern actually stops several dress sizes below where I needed it (I swear it fit when I bought it, but then I went to grad school...). However, whenever you're trying to size up a pattern (and we'll be doing a full post on this later), consider where exactly the size matters. For this particular pattern, the only real differences between the sizes were in the length of the sleeve band and collar. The collar was no issue, because it sits well down on the shoulder, so the only adjustment I made was increasing the length of the sleeve band.
The sleeves on this thing are a feat of engineering, but the dress proper took no time at all. All told, I finished in it maybe 4 hours (it would be considerably longer if you put in flat-felled seams, but I cheated). The other significant modification to this pattern I made was taking out all the lace edging (not character appropriate), which also cut my time a little.
All this, and I didn't get a picture of the shift on its own. Oh well. You'll see it at the end.
Pause to enthuse over buttons: Aren't these adorable? I saw them and had to have them, and they ended up going nicely on this dress.
Gloves
Way back in the day, when I was still in college, I made one of my best craft purchases ever. I was perusing the Walmart sewing section, and some damn fool had put a whole bolt of vinyl on the $1 table. So, I bought a whole bolt of vinyl for $8 and have been schlepping it from apartment to apartment ever since. Let this be a lesson- always check the sales and the remnants, because you'll never know what you'll find.
So, I happened to have plenty of material on hand with which to accessorize. First stop was a pair of gloves. Since the shift is very pretty and very feminine, I decided to go with a heavier, industrial look for the accessories- and what better to use than all this vinyl?
Now, I don't know about you, but I ain't 'bout fixin' to make no damn gloves. I am aware that I could probably do it, but y'all, I have better things to do. So, instead of gloves, I went with armwarmers. I took some arm measurements and just BSed it from there. They weren't staying on great, so I added a wrist band to make them more stable. Because this is steampunk, and in steampunk we wear clock parts, I added some wristwatch movements for detailing.
Shameless self promotion: If you're perplexed as to how I did this but want your own, I am selling these at my Etsy shop (http://www.etsy.com/shop/brokegradstudent). I also sell watch movements like the type used here, if you have a use for them.
Goggles
Every steampunk costume needs goggles; it's just a fact of nature. This one is no exception. I didn't make these particular goggles for this particular costume, but why not use what you have?
My goggles are built off of Hobart welding goggles (http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B0017Z04SK). I like these because you can take them completely apart for painting and such, and they're made of nice thick plastic, not the flimsy stuff. Basically, all I did was take them apart, cover the eyecups with vinyl, paint the screw on bits (that's a technical term) with antique gold acrylic paint, and paint a little reticle onto one lens cover. Super simple and cheap. I still need to replace the elastic band with something more appropriate, but hey, if they've got airships, elastic is nothing, right?
Boots
There are many options when considering footwear for a steampunk costume. You can rock big clunky boots or delicate little highbuttons, but the thing that unites them all is that they are very expensive. Here at Frenemy Cosplay, we are broke, so my choice was boot tops.
Boot tops are not nearly as hard to make as people make them out to be, especially if you choose to make pull-on ones. For these, which pull on and then are attached with tied garters, all I did was take a measurement around the widest part of my leg and make a tube big enough to fit over it (keeping in mind that the vinyl stretches a bit). I machine stitched them together, flipped them inside out, and added appropriate buttons. It was really quite a simple process- do not fear the boot tops!
And with that, the base of the costume was done!
Final Thoughts
I tried to make this costume as cheaply as possible, being that I had blown my budget on my Doctor Orpheus costume (post forthcoming!) and that, when I made it, I intended to wear it to only one con. On that score, I was quite successful; not counting the sunk costs of the things I already owned, it came out to about $30 US (for comparison, Doctor Orpheus ran me over a hundred).
Next time, we'll talk about the funnest part of the costume, the toolbelt. See you then!
Concept
For a good steampunk costume, you need to have a strong concept. In most cosplay, when you're replicating a character, you already have that element ready, but for steampunk, you have to grow your own. There are many, many different kinds of people you can emulate, and if you don't have a strong sense of what you're doing, all you'll end up with is a mishmash.
For this costume, I decided to go in a different direction than most steampunk. Most steampunk emulates the dress of the middle to upper classes, so I decided to make a working class girl. Here's the concept I started from:
Madeline Ozell started out as a mill working girl; to be more precise, she was a spinner. Spinners occupied a middle position in the social hierarchy of the mill: not as fancy as the weavers, but not as desperate as the dye workers. In <em>The Classic Slum</em>, which you really should have read yesterday, Robert Roberts describes the attire of the spinners in the late Victorian/Edwardian era:
"[B]ecause of the heat and slippery floors, women worked barefoot, dressed in little more than calico shifts. These garments, the respectable believed, induced in female spinners a certain kind of moral carelessness. [...] Clogs and shawls were, of course, standard wear for all."
Needless to say, when the airship captains started poaching girls from the mills to work in their engine rooms, Madeline jumped at the chance.
Madeline's found that working on the airship isn't all that different from spinning; she's somewhere in the middle, between the fancy ladies and the stokers. Still, she's moved far up in the world, and her clothing is beginning to show it. She's still wearing her old calico shift, but she's replaced her homespun shawl with a fancier one and her clogs with a good pair of boots. She keeps the tools of her trade around her waist and her goggles and gloves securely fastened- for safety, you know. She's coarse but proud, with a tendency to mouth off a little, especially when she's embarrassed.
The Costume
The costume basically breaks down like this:
-shawl
-calico shift
-gloves
-goggles
-toolbelt
--purse
--drill and holster
-boots
The shawl I won't be discussing, because it was store-bought. It's not entirely accurate, but it's good enough for steampunk. The toolbelt I'll be detailing in a separate entry, because man this post got long fast, because this costume has a whole lot of pieces.
Shift
The pattern I used was Simplicity 7215. Far as I can tell, it's no longer available, but 9769 is apparently the same thing with new packaging and added drawers. This pattern is for an 1860's chemise; the only real differences between these and the shifts that mill workers wore (which I have been trying forever to find a reference picture of) is in the neckline, detailing, and length of sleeves. I probably could have gotten closer, but I also wanted something that would be flattering to my body type and easily accessible.
I bought the pattern and calico when I started this concept, which was, pfft, years ago. The calico is a lovely muted blue and brown vine pattern- I really couldn't tell you what brand it was or if it's still made, but I quite like it.
The pattern is complicated but not that hard (unless you intend to flat-fell all the seams like it tells you to, in which case you're a braver woman than I), so I only have a few notes on it. First of all, one of the reasons I chose this pattern was because of the sizing. I am, it must be noted, a large lady, and the pattern actually stops several dress sizes below where I needed it (I swear it fit when I bought it, but then I went to grad school...). However, whenever you're trying to size up a pattern (and we'll be doing a full post on this later), consider where exactly the size matters. For this particular pattern, the only real differences between the sizes were in the length of the sleeve band and collar. The collar was no issue, because it sits well down on the shoulder, so the only adjustment I made was increasing the length of the sleeve band.
Ignore my superhero pajamas.
The sleeves on this thing are a feat of engineering, but the dress proper took no time at all. All told, I finished in it maybe 4 hours (it would be considerably longer if you put in flat-felled seams, but I cheated). The other significant modification to this pattern I made was taking out all the lace edging (not character appropriate), which also cut my time a little.
All this, and I didn't get a picture of the shift on its own. Oh well. You'll see it at the end.
Pause to enthuse over buttons: Aren't these adorable? I saw them and had to have them, and they ended up going nicely on this dress.
Gloves
Way back in the day, when I was still in college, I made one of my best craft purchases ever. I was perusing the Walmart sewing section, and some damn fool had put a whole bolt of vinyl on the $1 table. So, I bought a whole bolt of vinyl for $8 and have been schlepping it from apartment to apartment ever since. Let this be a lesson- always check the sales and the remnants, because you'll never know what you'll find.
So, I happened to have plenty of material on hand with which to accessorize. First stop was a pair of gloves. Since the shift is very pretty and very feminine, I decided to go with a heavier, industrial look for the accessories- and what better to use than all this vinyl?
Now, I don't know about you, but I ain't 'bout fixin' to make no damn gloves. I am aware that I could probably do it, but y'all, I have better things to do. So, instead of gloves, I went with armwarmers. I took some arm measurements and just BSed it from there. They weren't staying on great, so I added a wrist band to make them more stable. Because this is steampunk, and in steampunk we wear clock parts, I added some wristwatch movements for detailing.
Shameless self promotion: If you're perplexed as to how I did this but want your own, I am selling these at my Etsy shop (http://www.etsy.com/shop/brokegradstudent). I also sell watch movements like the type used here, if you have a use for them.
Goggles
Every steampunk costume needs goggles; it's just a fact of nature. This one is no exception. I didn't make these particular goggles for this particular costume, but why not use what you have?
My goggles are built off of Hobart welding goggles (http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B0017Z04SK). I like these because you can take them completely apart for painting and such, and they're made of nice thick plastic, not the flimsy stuff. Basically, all I did was take them apart, cover the eyecups with vinyl, paint the screw on bits (that's a technical term) with antique gold acrylic paint, and paint a little reticle onto one lens cover. Super simple and cheap. I still need to replace the elastic band with something more appropriate, but hey, if they've got airships, elastic is nothing, right?
Boots
There are many options when considering footwear for a steampunk costume. You can rock big clunky boots or delicate little highbuttons, but the thing that unites them all is that they are very expensive. Here at Frenemy Cosplay, we are broke, so my choice was boot tops.
Boot tops are not nearly as hard to make as people make them out to be, especially if you choose to make pull-on ones. For these, which pull on and then are attached with tied garters, all I did was take a measurement around the widest part of my leg and make a tube big enough to fit over it (keeping in mind that the vinyl stretches a bit). I machine stitched them together, flipped them inside out, and added appropriate buttons. It was really quite a simple process- do not fear the boot tops!
Please ignore the fact that I wore the wrong shoes for these pictures. I swear they look right over my boots.
And with that, the base of the costume was done!
I tried to make this costume as cheaply as possible, being that I had blown my budget on my Doctor Orpheus costume (post forthcoming!) and that, when I made it, I intended to wear it to only one con. On that score, I was quite successful; not counting the sunk costs of the things I already owned, it came out to about $30 US (for comparison, Doctor Orpheus ran me over a hundred).
Next time, we'll talk about the funnest part of the costume, the toolbelt. See you then!
Monday, May 16, 2011
A Brief Salute to our Predecessors
Sabine will have a proper post for you, later in the week, but I'd like to take a moment to appreciate those cosplayers who've gone before us. To that end, we salute the guy who made a C-3PO costume in 1977.
In the post-digital age, we've inherited endless resources and a rich, inclusive culture of geekery. We should never forget the trials and tribulations of those who built that culture, those who first thought it might be fun to dress up like fictional characters.
Thank you, early cosplayers. Thank you.
-shadowen
In the post-digital age, we've inherited endless resources and a rich, inclusive culture of geekery. We should never forget the trials and tribulations of those who built that culture, those who first thought it might be fun to dress up like fictional characters.
Thank you, early cosplayers. Thank you.
-shadowen
Tuesday, April 5, 2011
11 Things You Need at Con
So, we've already covered make-up, but what else should you bring to the con? On top of your costumes, clothing, toiletries, etc., here are some critical pieces of equipment to have at hand when you're conning it up.
1. Food and water. This is crucial. If at all possible, get some food and take it with you. Get doggie bags. Even eating out of the hotel snack machine may be cheaper than buying food on the floor at some cons. ::cough::SDCC::cough:: Even more important than food is water, especially if you're in a hot costume. Don't bring your best Nalgene; be advised that your water may be taken at the door at some events, particularly music festivals. If this happens, fork out the four bucks at concessions for a new bottle. Trust me, you'll thank me for it later. If you're not flying, you may also want to bring your own booze; as previously discussed, cons vary a lot on this, but you might bring your flask as well (check local liquor laws first).
2. Bobby pins. These things are amazing. They solve all kinds of hair emergencies (including just general bad hair when you're not in costume), and in a pinch they can be used to repair clothing, especially fallen hems.
3. A sewing kit. If possible, pack your own; don't rely on one of those little prefab kits. Cannibalize the package and the scissors, cause it's hard to find scissors that small. And for the love of god, put it in the bag you carry with you. A good sewing kit should include:
-dressmaker's pins
-bobbins of thread in appropriate colors to match your costume(s)
-small scissors
-needles appropriate to the materials of your costume(s) (if you're running around in a leather catsuit, little bitty needles are going to do you no damn good if you pop a seam)
-safety pins
-extra buttons/snaps/hooks and eyes, as appropriate
If you're not experienced with sewing, have bad eyes, or prick yourself a lot, you may want to add a needle threader and thimble.You may want to bring more than this if you're, for example, going to a con like Dragon*Con with its own sewing circle events, but this is the bare minimum that you need for common repairs.
4. A bag to carry with you. You HAVE to have something to put your cell phone and wallet in. Do NOT rely on someone else to carry your stuff, unless you're in a costume so elaborate that it requires a handler anyway. You WILL get separated, and without your cell phone, how will you find them?
"But Sabine!" I hear you say. "I am cosplaying a naked alien! How will I match a bag to my costume?" Well, make it out of nude-colored spandex. Make it out of fucking banana leaves if you have to. Get creative with that shit! If you're wearing something with a belt, make a little pouch. If you're wearing a corset, hide it amongst the boys (you know what I mean). If you're wearing socks, you can even buy little sock garters with pockets (see Sock Dreams).
5. Double-sided tape. There's no limit to the things you can do with this stuff. Signs, costume emergencies, keeping that one clumsy friend from wandering off.
6. A spare one of everything. If you have a costume piece and you have a spare of it, bring it. I don't advocate carrying around a whole extra copy of your costume in your bag to the panels, but it wouldn't hurt to have it in your suitcase. This is crucial if your costume contains small, easily lost components, like pins or buttons. And if you're anything like me, you'll probably forget the original and pack the spare.
6a: Spare shoes. No matter how hot your shoes are, if you're not wearing flats, you will eventually want to take them off. It's easy to kick them off during a panel, but if you're planning on walking around, there's nothing worse than walking or standing on tired, achy feet. Bring shoes that you can pack; flipflops are an option, but for a better look, collapsible ballet flats are also an option. Dr. Scholl's makes a nice pair of fold-up flats with their own carry-case, but you could just as easily pick up some Isotoners in a color befitting your costume (don't waste your time on cheap knock-offs).
7. Paper and markers. Hear me out on this one. The uses for paper should be self-evident- you might want to get autographs or take notes at a panel or pass out your contact information to people. The markers, however, are for making signs. There are a LOT of people at con. Like, really a lot of them. The best way to find your friends is to have a sign. This is another way to get creative- we've used location devices from fabric banners to life-sized cardboard cutouts of David Duchovny- but a good old fashioned sign will take you far. It's also great for last minute half-assed costumes- all you have to do to be an Inception cosplayer to hold up a sign with an arrow pointing to yourself that reads "Eames" (think about it).
8. First aid. At the bare minimum, you should include bandaids, Neosporin, painkillers, tissues, gauze, and an Ace bandage. Trust me, you'll need them, particularly if you're wearing heels. It's probably fine to have one first aid kit per group, but you may want to stick bandaids and tissues in your bag for the floor.
9. Baby wipes and hand sanitizer. You're going to be touching a lot of people and a lot of stuff a lot of people have touched, and you're not always going to have time to wait out the line for the bathroom. My preference for portable hand wash is Lifelogic No-Rinse Go! Soap, which is available at CVS or REI. It got me through a field season in Guatemala with ease, though if you like antibacterial gel, you can bring that too (just don't get it on your costume!).
10. Cash. Don't rely on your credit card to get you through the dealers' room. Most smaller vendors don't take credit cards, and having cash also helps you track your spending a little better than a credit card. If you're with a larger group, it's also essential for splitting bills at restaurants.
11. A good attitude. Cheesy, I know, but I'm serious. If you don't have your game face on, why even bother going? You also drag everybody else down if you really don't want to be there. Don't be that guy.
Bonus Round:
-Sock Glue. If you're doing anything involving low-cut or super revealing costumes, knee socks or thigh highs, roll-on body adhesive will save your life. Nothing is more annoying than having to constantly readjust your costume, and sometimes all the pins and tape in the world just won't work. It runs $10 on Sock Dreams, and it is worth every penny. If you wear long socks in general, it's a good thing to just have around for daily use too.
-Things you want autographed. Make sure these things are portable or learn to pack around them. Getting David Hewlett to autograph your SGA S1 DVDs is easy; getting James Robinson to autograph your Starman Omnibus editions is a little more difficult. Remember that you can also buy something on the fly, which may be more convenient.
-A collapsible bag. This depends on how much you want to bring back with you, but if you're flying and planning on buying more things than you can get into your suitcase, the best plan is to bring a packable bag. These are relatively inexpensive; I got mine at REI for maybe $15, but they should be available anywhere that sells luggage. Remember that at some cons, you can also mail packages home; check your options.
Got other tips? Feel free to share them in the comments!
-Sabine
1. Food and water. This is crucial. If at all possible, get some food and take it with you. Get doggie bags. Even eating out of the hotel snack machine may be cheaper than buying food on the floor at some cons. ::cough::SDCC::cough:: Even more important than food is water, especially if you're in a hot costume. Don't bring your best Nalgene; be advised that your water may be taken at the door at some events, particularly music festivals. If this happens, fork out the four bucks at concessions for a new bottle. Trust me, you'll thank me for it later. If you're not flying, you may also want to bring your own booze; as previously discussed, cons vary a lot on this, but you might bring your flask as well (check local liquor laws first).
2. Bobby pins. These things are amazing. They solve all kinds of hair emergencies (including just general bad hair when you're not in costume), and in a pinch they can be used to repair clothing, especially fallen hems.
3. A sewing kit. If possible, pack your own; don't rely on one of those little prefab kits. Cannibalize the package and the scissors, cause it's hard to find scissors that small. And for the love of god, put it in the bag you carry with you. A good sewing kit should include:
-dressmaker's pins
-bobbins of thread in appropriate colors to match your costume(s)
-small scissors
-needles appropriate to the materials of your costume(s) (if you're running around in a leather catsuit, little bitty needles are going to do you no damn good if you pop a seam)
-safety pins
-extra buttons/snaps/hooks and eyes, as appropriate
If you're not experienced with sewing, have bad eyes, or prick yourself a lot, you may want to add a needle threader and thimble.You may want to bring more than this if you're, for example, going to a con like Dragon*Con with its own sewing circle events, but this is the bare minimum that you need for common repairs.
4. A bag to carry with you. You HAVE to have something to put your cell phone and wallet in. Do NOT rely on someone else to carry your stuff, unless you're in a costume so elaborate that it requires a handler anyway. You WILL get separated, and without your cell phone, how will you find them?
"But Sabine!" I hear you say. "I am cosplaying a naked alien! How will I match a bag to my costume?" Well, make it out of nude-colored spandex. Make it out of fucking banana leaves if you have to. Get creative with that shit! If you're wearing something with a belt, make a little pouch. If you're wearing a corset, hide it amongst the boys (you know what I mean). If you're wearing socks, you can even buy little sock garters with pockets (see Sock Dreams).
5. Double-sided tape. There's no limit to the things you can do with this stuff. Signs, costume emergencies, keeping that one clumsy friend from wandering off.
6. A spare one of everything. If you have a costume piece and you have a spare of it, bring it. I don't advocate carrying around a whole extra copy of your costume in your bag to the panels, but it wouldn't hurt to have it in your suitcase. This is crucial if your costume contains small, easily lost components, like pins or buttons. And if you're anything like me, you'll probably forget the original and pack the spare.
6a: Spare shoes. No matter how hot your shoes are, if you're not wearing flats, you will eventually want to take them off. It's easy to kick them off during a panel, but if you're planning on walking around, there's nothing worse than walking or standing on tired, achy feet. Bring shoes that you can pack; flipflops are an option, but for a better look, collapsible ballet flats are also an option. Dr. Scholl's makes a nice pair of fold-up flats with their own carry-case, but you could just as easily pick up some Isotoners in a color befitting your costume (don't waste your time on cheap knock-offs).
7. Paper and markers. Hear me out on this one. The uses for paper should be self-evident- you might want to get autographs or take notes at a panel or pass out your contact information to people. The markers, however, are for making signs. There are a LOT of people at con. Like, really a lot of them. The best way to find your friends is to have a sign. This is another way to get creative- we've used location devices from fabric banners to life-sized cardboard cutouts of David Duchovny- but a good old fashioned sign will take you far. It's also great for last minute half-assed costumes- all you have to do to be an Inception cosplayer to hold up a sign with an arrow pointing to yourself that reads "Eames" (think about it).
8. First aid. At the bare minimum, you should include bandaids, Neosporin, painkillers, tissues, gauze, and an Ace bandage. Trust me, you'll need them, particularly if you're wearing heels. It's probably fine to have one first aid kit per group, but you may want to stick bandaids and tissues in your bag for the floor.
9. Baby wipes and hand sanitizer. You're going to be touching a lot of people and a lot of stuff a lot of people have touched, and you're not always going to have time to wait out the line for the bathroom. My preference for portable hand wash is Lifelogic No-Rinse Go! Soap, which is available at CVS or REI. It got me through a field season in Guatemala with ease, though if you like antibacterial gel, you can bring that too (just don't get it on your costume!).
10. Cash. Don't rely on your credit card to get you through the dealers' room. Most smaller vendors don't take credit cards, and having cash also helps you track your spending a little better than a credit card. If you're with a larger group, it's also essential for splitting bills at restaurants.
11. A good attitude. Cheesy, I know, but I'm serious. If you don't have your game face on, why even bother going? You also drag everybody else down if you really don't want to be there. Don't be that guy.
Bonus Round:
-Sock Glue. If you're doing anything involving low-cut or super revealing costumes, knee socks or thigh highs, roll-on body adhesive will save your life. Nothing is more annoying than having to constantly readjust your costume, and sometimes all the pins and tape in the world just won't work. It runs $10 on Sock Dreams, and it is worth every penny. If you wear long socks in general, it's a good thing to just have around for daily use too.
-Things you want autographed. Make sure these things are portable or learn to pack around them. Getting David Hewlett to autograph your SGA S1 DVDs is easy; getting James Robinson to autograph your Starman Omnibus editions is a little more difficult. Remember that you can also buy something on the fly, which may be more convenient.
-A collapsible bag. This depends on how much you want to bring back with you, but if you're flying and planning on buying more things than you can get into your suitcase, the best plan is to bring a packable bag. These are relatively inexpensive; I got mine at REI for maybe $15, but they should be available anywhere that sells luggage. Remember that at some cons, you can also mail packages home; check your options.
Got other tips? Feel free to share them in the comments!
-Sabine
Saturday, April 2, 2011
In response to "There is no good Firefly Cosplay"
"There's no such thing as good Firefly cosplay."
This link made the rounds among Whedon fans not too long ago, and I would like to take a moment, if I may, to respectfully refute a few points.
The writer claims that “good” Firefly cosplay is difficult for two reasons. First, he says, the costumes are “somewhat normal clothes” and “ the looks aren’t always that distinctive”. Now, unless you know people who regularly wear coveralls, embroidered silk, and gun belts, I’d argue that there’s really nothing “normal” about the Firefly look.
Like any good cosplay, the key is to find those few iconic elements of the character and make them work for you. If you’re a Firefly fan, you can probably think of a few things, right off the bat: Mal’s coat, Kaylee’s parasol, Jayne’s hat, just to name a few. Besides which, there’s a plus side to doing a costume with “somewhat normal” pieces, and that is that you don’t have to make everything by hand. A quick trip to a good thrift store, a few alterations, and you’ve got the foundation for your costume. As much as we at Frenemy Cosplay encourage the endless labor of costume tailoring, there’s something to be said for the creativity required to assemble a decent, recognizable costume out of stuff you can find.
Second, the writer asserts that, “Fans of Firefly that are devoted enough to dress up in full regalia are on average, dorkier than most” and that, as a result of this, “Firefly cosplay is mainly nerdy looking people dressing in ill-fitting clothes”. Let’s just take a second to unpack these statements, shall we?
I might agree with the first part if we were talking about, say, Harvey Birdman, but Firefly? Being a fan of Firefly and a devoted Whedonite, I’ll admit that I may be a little too close to the source for an accurate assesment, but I have trouble believing that someone who dresses as Mal Reynolds is any dorkier than someone who dresses as The Doctor. The writer acknowledges that cosplayers in general tend to be “dorkier than most”, which is true enough, but he goes on to say that you can usually “find a few male and female hotties to do excellent work on some of the more mainstream characters”. Honestly, there’s so much wrong with this statement, I don’t even know where to start. He seems to be suggesting that “dorkiness” is inversely proportionate to attractiveness, which is an assumption that draws on fifty years of negative stereotyping and simply is not - in any way, shape, or form - true. There is no measurable correlation between fandom and physical appearance, and anyone who claims there is, frankly, is either not a fan or is projecting her or his own insecurities on the rest of fandom. I don’t presume to know which category our writer falls into, and I won’t speculate.
In response to the second part of his point, that “Firefly cosplay is mainly nerdy looking people dressing in ill-fitting clothes”, I would say simply: So? The measure of good cosplay is not how hot you look, or even how recognizable you are. The measure of good cosplay is the costume itself, the quality of the outfit and the work and passion that went into putting it together. The measure of good cosplay is the joy of the fan wearing it and the excitement of other fans at seeing it. Look at the pictures in that post, and tell me that any of those people are not absolutely thrilled to be wearing those clothes. They are paying homage to their big damn heroes, and they are rocking it.
In conclusion, Mr Writer, there is a point to cosplay, and you seem to have missed it. For that, you have my sympathy, but I request that you take your negativity and keep it the hell away from my con.
-shadowen
This link made the rounds among Whedon fans not too long ago, and I would like to take a moment, if I may, to respectfully refute a few points.
The writer claims that “good” Firefly cosplay is difficult for two reasons. First, he says, the costumes are “somewhat normal clothes” and “ the looks aren’t always that distinctive”. Now, unless you know people who regularly wear coveralls, embroidered silk, and gun belts, I’d argue that there’s really nothing “normal” about the Firefly look.
Like any good cosplay, the key is to find those few iconic elements of the character and make them work for you. If you’re a Firefly fan, you can probably think of a few things, right off the bat: Mal’s coat, Kaylee’s parasol, Jayne’s hat, just to name a few. Besides which, there’s a plus side to doing a costume with “somewhat normal” pieces, and that is that you don’t have to make everything by hand. A quick trip to a good thrift store, a few alterations, and you’ve got the foundation for your costume. As much as we at Frenemy Cosplay encourage the endless labor of costume tailoring, there’s something to be said for the creativity required to assemble a decent, recognizable costume out of stuff you can find.
Second, the writer asserts that, “Fans of Firefly that are devoted enough to dress up in full regalia are on average, dorkier than most” and that, as a result of this, “Firefly cosplay is mainly nerdy looking people dressing in ill-fitting clothes”. Let’s just take a second to unpack these statements, shall we?
I might agree with the first part if we were talking about, say, Harvey Birdman, but Firefly? Being a fan of Firefly and a devoted Whedonite, I’ll admit that I may be a little too close to the source for an accurate assesment, but I have trouble believing that someone who dresses as Mal Reynolds is any dorkier than someone who dresses as The Doctor. The writer acknowledges that cosplayers in general tend to be “dorkier than most”, which is true enough, but he goes on to say that you can usually “find a few male and female hotties to do excellent work on some of the more mainstream characters”. Honestly, there’s so much wrong with this statement, I don’t even know where to start. He seems to be suggesting that “dorkiness” is inversely proportionate to attractiveness, which is an assumption that draws on fifty years of negative stereotyping and simply is not - in any way, shape, or form - true. There is no measurable correlation between fandom and physical appearance, and anyone who claims there is, frankly, is either not a fan or is projecting her or his own insecurities on the rest of fandom. I don’t presume to know which category our writer falls into, and I won’t speculate.
In response to the second part of his point, that “Firefly cosplay is mainly nerdy looking people dressing in ill-fitting clothes”, I would say simply: So? The measure of good cosplay is not how hot you look, or even how recognizable you are. The measure of good cosplay is the costume itself, the quality of the outfit and the work and passion that went into putting it together. The measure of good cosplay is the joy of the fan wearing it and the excitement of other fans at seeing it. Look at the pictures in that post, and tell me that any of those people are not absolutely thrilled to be wearing those clothes. They are paying homage to their big damn heroes, and they are rocking it.
In conclusion, Mr Writer, there is a point to cosplay, and you seem to have missed it. For that, you have my sympathy, but I request that you take your negativity and keep it the hell away from my con.
-shadowen
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
Cosmetics and the Con
I want to take a second to talk about make-up.
Now, those of you who wear make-up on a daily basis, don’t shake your heads and run off just yet, because this one’s for you, too. And to those who don’t wear a lot of make-up but plan to slap some on for con, well, this is really for you.
Because I’m, y’know, me, I’ve once again organized this post into a series of simple, crucial questions.
What kind of make-up does my character wear?
If the answer is “none”, then my work here is done. Seriously, if you’re going as, like, an SGA gate team (thanks to Sabine for the example) then dust on some powder and call it a day. If your character is a generally normal person in the “real” world, it’s probably best to just go with your regular look (plus special provisions for con). If, on the other hand, your character wears distinctive or complicated make-up, you’ll want to plan ahead.
Do I need to buy new stuff?
That depends largely on whether you’re a hardcore style nerd, like me, or a slightly more reasonable person. Regardless, there are a few things you definitely want to have.
-Good foundation. You want something with good coverage, because those flurescent lights are unforgiving, and something that’s going to stay on well throughout the day. Remember that you’ll be walking, sweating, and laughing til you cry, and you need a foundation that can keep up.
-Eye lid primer. What this does is: you apply a light coating on your eyelid, and it brightens the color of your eyeshadow and helps your eye make-up last longer. You should be able to find this at your local supermarket/pharmacy, as well as at a general cosmetics store. My roommate uses Maybelline Cooling Eyeshadow and Liner, I use e.l.f. Essentials Eyelid Primer, and I know N.Y.X also makes one. So you’re looking at $5 or less for this, and it’s worth having in your regular bag of tricks, anyway.
Now, those of you who wear make-up on a daily basis, don’t shake your heads and run off just yet, because this one’s for you, too. And to those who don’t wear a lot of make-up but plan to slap some on for con, well, this is really for you.
Because I’m, y’know, me, I’ve once again organized this post into a series of simple, crucial questions.
What kind of make-up does my character wear?
If the answer is “none”, then my work here is done. Seriously, if you’re going as, like, an SGA gate team (thanks to Sabine for the example) then dust on some powder and call it a day. If your character is a generally normal person in the “real” world, it’s probably best to just go with your regular look (plus special provisions for con). If, on the other hand, your character wears distinctive or complicated make-up, you’ll want to plan ahead.
Do I need to buy new stuff?
That depends largely on whether you’re a hardcore style nerd, like me, or a slightly more reasonable person. Regardless, there are a few things you definitely want to have.
-Good foundation. You want something with good coverage, because those flurescent lights are unforgiving, and something that’s going to stay on well throughout the day. Remember that you’ll be walking, sweating, and laughing til you cry, and you need a foundation that can keep up.
-Eye lid primer. What this does is: you apply a light coating on your eyelid, and it brightens the color of your eyeshadow and helps your eye make-up last longer. You should be able to find this at your local supermarket/pharmacy, as well as at a general cosmetics store. My roommate uses Maybelline Cooling Eyeshadow and Liner, I use e.l.f. Essentials Eyelid Primer, and I know N.Y.X also makes one. So you’re looking at $5 or less for this, and it’s worth having in your regular bag of tricks, anyway.
-Lipliner and lip brush. I realize this might seem a little obvious, but hear me out. If you apply your lipstick in a three-step process (lip liner. blot. apply lipstick with brush. blot. apply lipstick directly. blot.) it’ll last about five times longer than it would normally. And, for the love of Brian Molko, use chapstick and creme lip liner.
What if I need to do something complicated?
First of all, don’t get in over your head. Unless you or someone you know has professional or theatre make-up experience, it’s probably best to avoid things like full-body paint or prosthetics. If you do have access to those skills, then have it, and you can probably disregard this post entirely. Otherwise, it’s best to work with the skills you have. If you need to do complicated eye make-up and aren’t comfortable with (or have never used) liquid eyeliner, Palladio Eye Inks are felt-tip liner pens that are easy to use and great for precision work. I first used them when I cosplayed Death at SDCC, and it worked great. You should be able to find them at the supermarket, but Sally’s also carries them.
...Just a tiny bit smudged.
Should I practice my make-up before the con?
YES. You should always do at least one dry run of your costume before you leave for the con, including hair and make-up, just to iron out any unexpected kinks.
Should I carry some make-up with me at the con?
Definitely. Even the best make-up is going to wear a little as the day goes on, especially lipstick, so you definitely want to keep some things on hand for emergency touch-ups. Keep a tube of lipstick or lip gloss in your bag, and, if you’re worried about your eyeliner smudging or your foundation getting shiny, you’d be well advised to bring those, too. You don’t want to be toting around your entire make-up bag, though, so use your best judgment.
Obviously, these are just basic tips to help your con experience run a little more smoothly. Because when you run into Joe Flannigan on the floor and ask for a picture, you don’t want to be worrying about lipstick on your teeth.
As always, if you have any questions, email us at frenemycosplay@gmail.com, and we will happily share our wisdom.
-shadowen
Sunday, March 27, 2011
Costumes I Have Known: The Question
On this lazy Sunday afternoon, I thought I would regale you with a story of my greatest, easiest, most unexpected cosplay triumph: Renee Montoya as The Question (II).
The whole crux of this costume, for obvious reasons, is the mask. Now, there are lots of different ways to make the mask. One of the most successful techniques involves cheesecloth, as you can see here. The advantage of this technique is that it gives a really smooth look from far away, though the illusion breaks down as you get closer.
But, my children, living as I was in a tiny apartment in the woods on the edge of nowhere, I did not have the requisite supplies. I also wanted something that would look good from close up and from far away. What I found was bathing suit lining. It's available from any good fabric store, it's relatively cheap, it's super stretchy, it's breathable and translucent, all of which make it a perfect material for this kind of application.
But, my children, living as I was in a tiny apartment in the woods on the edge of nowhere, I did not have the requisite supplies. I also wanted something that would look good from close up and from far away. What I found was bathing suit lining. It's available from any good fabric store, it's relatively cheap, it's super stretchy, it's breathable and translucent, all of which make it a perfect material for this kind of application.
I tried a number of different techniques, including piecing the mask on, applying makeup over it, etc.
They all had one glaring design flaw: I couldn't eat while wearing them. And, my children, if you learn only one thing from me, learn that you cannot get through a whole day of con without eating unless you want to pass out.
So in the end, what I did was cut out a piece of fabric roughly the same size and shape as my face, with enough to go around to the back of my neck, like so.
As you can see, I attached it around my hairline and around my ears, but left the bottom hanging. Because I had long enough hair to cover it, I stretched the fabric to the back of my neck and fastened it with a hair tie. I used eyelash glue to attach it to my face; if I had it to do again, I'd do it with spirit gum, but, again, I was in the middle of nowhere, and there was none to be had (and no time to order it by the time I decided to make this costume).
Since I took this shot at the end of the day, you can also see in this picture where I got mustard on it while trying to eat a hot dog. Whoops.
This method was not without its problems. Since the tie holding the bottom of the mask had to be undone and redone every time I wanted to eat or drink anything, it led to some problems of gapping and stretching.
Fortunately these were easily fixed, and I learned quickly not to adjust my mask without looking in the mirror. The mask also became easier to wear throughout the day, as the material became stretchier and more transparent.
At the time, Renee had just become The Question, so there was nothing particularly iconic about the rest of her costume. Accordingly, I wore what I had at hand (including the tie from my work uniform). I actually screwed up and forgot gloves, but the Rorschach who was travelling with us saved me.
NB: I don't know who this dude was, but isn't his expression priceless?
So that's pretty much how I did it. I think I paid less than 20 USD for the entire costume, because most of it came straight from my closet.
It was, I discovered, an easy costume to mistake, apparently. During the course of the day, I was mistaken for both the Invisible Man (several times) and Anonymous. Also, I learned that when you wear a full face mask, people assume that you can't see them, and they will gawk at you openly. I did freak a person or two out by waving at them as they stared intently at my face.
Would I do it again? Probably not, especially not for Comic-Con. Was it totally badass? Yes, it was.
-Sabine
They all had one glaring design flaw: I couldn't eat while wearing them. And, my children, if you learn only one thing from me, learn that you cannot get through a whole day of con without eating unless you want to pass out.
So in the end, what I did was cut out a piece of fabric roughly the same size and shape as my face, with enough to go around to the back of my neck, like so.
As you can see, I attached it around my hairline and around my ears, but left the bottom hanging. Because I had long enough hair to cover it, I stretched the fabric to the back of my neck and fastened it with a hair tie. I used eyelash glue to attach it to my face; if I had it to do again, I'd do it with spirit gum, but, again, I was in the middle of nowhere, and there was none to be had (and no time to order it by the time I decided to make this costume).
Since I took this shot at the end of the day, you can also see in this picture where I got mustard on it while trying to eat a hot dog. Whoops.
This method was not without its problems. Since the tie holding the bottom of the mask had to be undone and redone every time I wanted to eat or drink anything, it led to some problems of gapping and stretching.
Fortunately these were easily fixed, and I learned quickly not to adjust my mask without looking in the mirror. The mask also became easier to wear throughout the day, as the material became stretchier and more transparent.
At the time, Renee had just become The Question, so there was nothing particularly iconic about the rest of her costume. Accordingly, I wore what I had at hand (including the tie from my work uniform). I actually screwed up and forgot gloves, but the Rorschach who was travelling with us saved me.
NB: I don't know who this dude was, but isn't his expression priceless?
So that's pretty much how I did it. I think I paid less than 20 USD for the entire costume, because most of it came straight from my closet.
It was, I discovered, an easy costume to mistake, apparently. During the course of the day, I was mistaken for both the Invisible Man (several times) and Anonymous. Also, I learned that when you wear a full face mask, people assume that you can't see them, and they will gawk at you openly. I did freak a person or two out by waving at them as they stared intently at my face.
Would I do it again? Probably not, especially not for Comic-Con. Was it totally badass? Yes, it was.
-Sabine
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