That Capgun is No Blaster - Memories of Childhood Cosplay
In past Fanatical Visions I have taken cheap shots at otaku who practice the art form of cosplay. I apologize for this and realize that it was small-thinking to make fun of a valid fan’s creativity just because it is something I don’t have much interest in participating in now or in the future. Now that I’m forced to search my memory I realize that I was an avid cosplayer (I hope I’m using this word correctly, it was introduced to me through a Club OI member’s email) up until just 7 years ago.
I never felt wierd about routing through my mother’s drawers when I was little. Her knee-high socks became Han Solo’s black boots, an old purse stuffed with string, a compass and pocket knife was Indiana Jones’ archeological satchel, a dickie collar the bottom half of a ninja mask, and costume jewelry could be hidden for a AD&D; treasure hunt. My father’s toolchest perfectly complemented the parents wardrobe, with triangular files, saws, handdrills, and pliers being able to transform everyday objects into deadly weapons of fantasy. For example, nunchuks were half a dogchain, some eyescrews and a cut up broomstick with thumbtacks pushed into it for studs.
If you haven’t noticed by now I had a couple major themes for my ever-evolving cosplay. The earliest I could remember (all of these exclude Halloween, these were worn whenever they were necessary to aid mindless playing in the bushes) is Batman, simply some Batman themed pajamas with a cape, no utility belt, then a sky mask and pajamas let me believe I was Spiderman. Riding Star Wars euphoria, I put together a jean jacket vest, white longsleeved shirt, a cowboy belt holstering a brittle Luger capgun, with pajama bottoms stuffed into knee-high wool socks that would always get wet from the lawn’s morning dew as I ran away from Stormtroopers with Chewie at my side. A few years later Indiana Jones was the costume obsession that I would pull off with my Sunday school biege slacks, a yellow dress shirt (the closest I could find to the dirty sweat stained original), the purse, a holstered six-shooter cap gun and a leather dog leash for a whip. As I grew older the costumes grew less creative because I could just buy the real thing, like a ninja costume or a camo jumppsuit for GIJoe.
The last time I really dressed up was for a live fantasy RPG. I wore plate armor made out of plastic comic book dividers and ducttape and a huge ducttape, PVC and foam longsword. I didn’t last long, falling prey to a bunch of foam wielding geeks. Since then cosplay hasn’t interested me all that much and I’ve found it an easy thing to laugh at. But, hey, if you’re into it like I was, you must be having fun.
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