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alenxa_classicWent to the Renaissance Faire on Sunday with ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
kelson, zehntaur, and andrea_wot, all in garb. I got mistaken for a Faire worker at least three times, possibly four. One woman visiting a booth asked me how these cool hair doohickies worked, phrasing it as if I would automatically know, and I forgot to take in the look on her face when I told her I didn't work that booth. Kelson and I got some alternate costume pieces, and the girl helping me caught sight of my henna and asked if I worked over in that booth. And one of the vendors said, as I was looking over the display, "You look like you live here, but I don't recognize you."
The uncertain episode was the first cider I bought. The server didn't card me, saying, "Ah, you've been drinking a long time, you know the routine." I thought that odd since the woman before me in line looked older, had two kids, and very definitely got carded (and ribbed about it). But I got a clue when I left on the counter the half-dollar she'd given me in change. She looked at it, then at me, with a very confused smile. It was as if she hadn't expected me to tip. They didn't even ring the bell, for which I was grateful. I could get used to that.
Not so many naked Xenas this year. The really awful one was about 45, big and saggy everywhere, and wearing a hand-crocheted outfit that looked like it would be more at home on a bar dancer on Tattooine. Oh, and about five pounds of shredded ribbon in her hair. We saw her on the way in and one of the other three said, "Wow....it takes guts to wear that." I said, "Well, she's got 'em."
Aside from the costumes, though, it was really subdued. When I first went with my family, I dropped a cup of ice and some costumed guy said, loudly, "Huzzah!" None of that kind of thing this time. Good for not frightening people off, but not good for providing fun. But really. One of the employees in the souvenir shop was talking about how when they make jokes now about toad-in-the-hole being the equivalent of Soylent Green, nobody gets it. Another came back with the mind-boggling assertion that, when she jokes about asking customers to sign their credit receipt with an "authentic 16th-century ballpoint pen," many of them ask, "Really? They had those then?"
I can understand (for several reasons) the Sea Dogs not being allowed anymore to toss their peanut shells into women's cleavage. (I was never in a position to be targeted, but a friend at work says they used to do this.) I can understand people not getting the Soylent Green joke. But there is no excuse for the dumbfucks asking about the pens. Or for the Crocheted Wonder, or the naked Xenas, or the guys wandering around in purple polyester with sequined wizard hats.
To all those people mentioned above: You had better either get a clue, or get your fill of Faire while you can, because you are killing it. All those people you used to see who were walking around in good costumes aren't there anymore, and it's because of you. This is not the Harry Potter Faire, or the Faerie Faire, or the Stripper Wannabe Faire. It is the Renaissance Faire, and if you like it that way then you had better start acting like it. Otherwise, all those adorable people selling you the authentic period pizza and fajitas are slowly going to go to other faires where you are not, and you will be left with no place to flaunt your ignorance once a year. So think about it. That is, if thinking itself isn't too much of a challenge.
kelson, zehntaur, and andrea_wot, all in garb. I got mistaken for a Faire worker at least three times, possibly four. One woman visiting a booth asked me how these cool hair doohickies worked, phrasing it as if I would automatically know, and I forgot to take in the look on her face when I told her I didn't work that booth. Kelson and I got some alternate costume pieces, and the girl helping me caught sight of my henna and asked if I worked over in that booth. And one of the vendors said, as I was looking over the display, "You look like you live here, but I don't recognize you."The uncertain episode was the first cider I bought. The server didn't card me, saying, "Ah, you've been drinking a long time, you know the routine." I thought that odd since the woman before me in line looked older, had two kids, and very definitely got carded (and ribbed about it). But I got a clue when I left on the counter the half-dollar she'd given me in change. She looked at it, then at me, with a very confused smile. It was as if she hadn't expected me to tip. They didn't even ring the bell, for which I was grateful. I could get used to that.
Not so many naked Xenas this year. The really awful one was about 45, big and saggy everywhere, and wearing a hand-crocheted outfit that looked like it would be more at home on a bar dancer on Tattooine. Oh, and about five pounds of shredded ribbon in her hair. We saw her on the way in and one of the other three said, "Wow....it takes guts to wear that." I said, "Well, she's got 'em."
Aside from the costumes, though, it was really subdued. When I first went with my family, I dropped a cup of ice and some costumed guy said, loudly, "Huzzah!" None of that kind of thing this time. Good for not frightening people off, but not good for providing fun. But really. One of the employees in the souvenir shop was talking about how when they make jokes now about toad-in-the-hole being the equivalent of Soylent Green, nobody gets it. Another came back with the mind-boggling assertion that, when she jokes about asking customers to sign their credit receipt with an "authentic 16th-century ballpoint pen," many of them ask, "Really? They had those then?"
I can understand (for several reasons) the Sea Dogs not being allowed anymore to toss their peanut shells into women's cleavage. (I was never in a position to be targeted, but a friend at work says they used to do this.) I can understand people not getting the Soylent Green joke. But there is no excuse for the dumbfucks asking about the pens. Or for the Crocheted Wonder, or the naked Xenas, or the guys wandering around in purple polyester with sequined wizard hats.
To all those people mentioned above: You had better either get a clue, or get your fill of Faire while you can, because you are killing it. All those people you used to see who were walking around in good costumes aren't there anymore, and it's because of you. This is not the Harry Potter Faire, or the Faerie Faire, or the Stripper Wannabe Faire. It is the Renaissance Faire, and if you like it that way then you had better start acting like it. Otherwise, all those adorable people selling you the authentic period pizza and fajitas are slowly going to go to other faires where you are not, and you will be left with no place to flaunt your ignorance once a year. So think about it. That is, if thinking itself isn't too much of a challenge.
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no subject
Date: 2004-05-17 02:54 pm (UTC)I'll see your Xena and raise you five clones in PVC, fishnet, and collars. Badly done. There's a reason I've never felt a deep compulsion to go back to the goth-industrial-fetish events (went once, NYE '98-'99). Oh. My. Eyes. One thing to be said for many plus-sized gothy-er women is that they have a sense of what is flattering. The fetishy ones... oh, please stop. And you know that those big, saggy fortysomething Xenas in hand-crocheted wrongness are also in the BDSM scene all-to-frequently, right. Oh, teh pain... the visual agony. Meh. So glad to stick with the goths and the rivety sorts, yesh.
But there is no excuse for the dumbfucks asking about the pens. Or for the Crocheted Wonder, or the naked Xenas, or the guys wandering around in purple polyester with sequined wizard hats.
Which are a good part of the reason why I'm leery of Rennaissance faires, sadly enough. It's become another venue for the re-res of the world to inflict their lack of a sense for the appropriate upon the more sensitive, as well as flaunting with pride every bit of evidence as to why one should never, ever want to get to know them.
Otherwise, all those adorable people selling you the authentic period pizza and fajitas are slowly going to go to other faires where you are not, and you will be left with no place to flaunt your ignorance once a year. So think about it. That is, if thinking itself isn't too much of a challenge.
You're asking a lot.
BTW, belated Happy Birthday! Despite the Crocheted Wonder and other offenders, I hope it was a good one!
no subject
Date: 2004-05-17 03:38 pm (UTC)Ahh, toad-in-the-hole is PEOPLE!
the guys wandering around in purple polyester with sequined wizard hats.
Okay, pass the brain bleach. That is just too much for the imagination.
Can you pelt people with eggs for crimes against fashion?