A weekend as a girl (Part three)

Have you missed part one? Click here!

Have you missed part two? Click here!

A WEEKEND AS A GIRL (Part three)

OPENING RANT

I've decided that every entry deserves something of a foreword, to address things that have popped up inside my head between the time that I'm writing this, and my previous entry. And what's the surprise topic to star in the entry for today?

BOY vs GIRL

Hush you, this is my blog. I can repeat myself all I want! No but really, there's something I forgot to address last night, or that I didn't go into in enough detail that I want to get back to at least briefly (Let's see how loosely I use the term briefly this time).

I mentioned yesterday that I've never felt more visible in a cosplay, than I did as Celty Sturluson, and I don't think I gave that statement as much attention as it deserved. I touched on the crowds I have moved with my cosplays in the past, because a Stormtrooper splits a crowd as open as Moses did the Red Sea. And here's my meaning:

There's an important difference between inspiring awe, and inspiring adoration. The former is something my Stormtrooper does. I often refer to it as my woah-factor cosplay, because it's heard, it's seen, it's big and it's known. You have no choice but to notice it, and when you do, you can't help but appreciate how extravagant it is.

The latter, inspiring adoration, was something Celty did. As glorious as the helmet is, what a lot of people saw, was the body. A lot of people that I passed got reeled in thanks to the helmet, but the helmet wasn't where eyes lingered. Unlike with the Stormtrooper, where you have no choice but to behold it in all its glory, here the eyes could've remained on the helmet, or gone elsewhere, because there was nothing extravagant about my body. Yet eyes remained. Why? Because even without armor, without props, without decoration, patterns or anything, there was something to look at.

I was seen. I was visible.

For about a year and a half, I have hopped into a cosplay any time an excuse touched my world. Unofficial Star Wars day? Let's make a weekend out of it! The premiere of Star Wars: Rebels? Let's make a weekend of it! A geek market? It's a good day to Deadpool! What a beautiful Friday ... let's cosplay! Picnics, conventions, fairs, holidays, annual things, birthday parties. My point is that I cosplay A LOT, among a lot of people, but I have NEVER been seen like this. But what's the purpose of telling you this? Because I already told you that I don't get noticed as much as a boy, right?

Here's why: It is easy to forget how beautiful you are, when what people see is whatever outfit you put on your body. When what costume you wear is what makes you noteworthy, it will only take so long before you start losing a part of yourself. Here's a realization that came to full fruition this weekend for me: The grander the costume a man wears, the more likely you are to turn your attention to him. The less a woman wear, will have a similar effect. But what twists the arm is this: The former is also true for women. Extravagance sells, no matter who is wearing it, but men can't hold a candle to women when it comes to cosplay putting emphasize on the body.

We ran into this Daredevil cosplayer towards the end of the final day.

When we asked if we could have a picture with him, he told us that no one had asked him all day.

His joy was tangible, it was explosive! And I can't describe in words how eerily sad it made me. Sure his laughing and smiling was contagious, but think about that ... No one had asked for his picture. The Daredevil Netflix show was a big hit! People love it! And they crowd to take pictures of me without having the slightest idea what character I am. Think about that.

Yes, I am aware that there's an important detail to address, and that is a person's build. But here's the thing: Women are not worse off in that department than men, as much as it hurts to shoot that duck down. If you are a man, and you aren't buff, your shirtless cosplay won't blow many people away. Your target audience will of course appreciate you, whatever fandom your cosplay belongs to, but even that is not even enough at times. I know I wasn't as appreciated as some when I did Korra. And weight? Men have as much problem with that as women. I'm not saying that men are as loudly expected as women to be slim, but that's a societal issue, and I won't go too deeply into that. But take a look at the internet. Weighty cosplayers are being equally ridiculed, no matter what gender.

I'm not saying this as an attempt to make it seem as though men have it worse off in the community than women, but there is an issue here that I never see addressed. And it's unhealthy. It's harmful. How I can say that, is simple: I was objectified, and I didn't hate it. No one has ever tried to grope me before, unless it was part of a joke of something.  Any time I've been touched inappropriately before during cosplay, was as Deadpool, and that's because some people perceive Deadpool as the sort of character that you get away with doing such things to.

This is going to be an awful thing to say, it pains me to write it, but ... I haven't ever felt as valued at a convention, as this one time I didn't go as myself. When I was Deadpool, there was me underneath. Same with Darth Vader, Stormtrooper, any of my costumes. This is the one time I've chosen to be someone else, that I've made an effort not to be Thomas the male, and people loved this woman. And it felt great. When people whistled behind me, I smiled. When people blew kisses at me, I blushed. When men and women growled, I had to choke down  giggles. I know it was my body, my fake body they reacted to, but I felt beautiful. And a  little bit jealous of myself.

Understand that I don't cosplay for the attention, but also understand that you can only ever take so many dismissals before you start feeling like you should not even bother showing up next time. We don't do it for the pictures, most of us, but that doesn't mean it doesn't hurt when people don't want pictures taken with us. Especially when they crowd around someone else near you, whose costume is on equal level to yours. Not having your picture taken is one thing, but watching others get a ton of attention for no other reason than their gender, that can knock the wind out of you. I bring Korra up now and then, but that's not the only time I've seen it, or even experienced it myself. Female Deadpools in my presence have had a similar effect when I cosplay him. And it's not just to me this is happening. Ever since I started paying attention to it, which was after Comic Con last year when the birth of the idea for this experiment took place, I have paid attention.

But enough about that. I just had a lot to get off my chest, and now it's out there. Onto the topic of the day.

I can't describe in words how amazing my friends are.

THE CON versus CELTY

I have never had more fun at a convention, and that's partially because of what I've addressed so far in this blog. For once, I felt beautiful, and it carried me on wings through the whole weekend. Even the bad stuff blurred almost immediately in wake of all the good stuff that kept on happening.

I have given the world a lot of crap in this entry, but I don't want you to think that it's how I see the world. I'm merely telling you what I'm thinking, and you can make what you want out of it. And here's this evening's dosage of reality: If you can't appreciate all the good, because of the little that's bad, then you're part of the problem. 

Because society today is the way that it is, there's one text I never wrote on my whiteboard, that I wanted to show the world and which was honestly the reason I went with a whiteboard in the first place. Because I wanted it plastered in every face that walked the convention floors, I wanted all to see the one line made me fall in love with Celty Sturluson. Early into Durarara, there's a scene where a young girl is about to kill herself. She steps off a tall building because she can find no light in her life, but just as she's about to hit the ground, Celty stops her fall using magic and gently lowers her the last bit to the ground. When the girl asks Celty why she saved her, Celty (having no voice) wrote the reason on her phone and showed the girl. The line went, and I want all of you to take this line to heart ...

"THE WORLD ISN'T AS CRUEL AS YOU MAKE IT OUT TO BE"

Durarara!! Episode 02. 

There is a lot to love about Celty, but this moment was what cemented my love for the character. Because to my mind, it's one of the most important things ever said. I get teary eyes even writing about it, because it's SO IMPORTANT that the deeper meaning behind the words can even save lives. 

I want to repeat what I said a couple of paragraphs ago: I have never had more fun at a convention. This is not saying that it wasn't a nightmare at times. At a couple of occasions, I just wanted to go into a corner and hide, because one negative experience or another. The sexism wasn't the worst, the objectification, the relentless flirting wasn't ever that great a problem for me. It bothered me of course, but I never lost sight of who I was, because whatever these people that treated me badly saw, it wasn't me. They saw a woman, something I've been told was convincingly delivered. And  try as I might, I can't be offended that these people found this woman beautiful. I just don't have it in me, because it would be too cruel towards myself. If I allow myself to be offended when people for the first time in my life REVERE my body, I would be doing myself a disservice, no matter what the purpose of this experiment was. Some that I talked to before going into this, warned me that I will be treated like a piece of meat. I was prepared for this, and was ready to write an angry blog about it, but as it happened, I honestly teared up at times. With joy!

So what was it I mentioned before, about wanting to go into a corner and hide? I'll be honest, I understated the sensation. I wanted to cry. I wanted to go home. For all the fun I had during the weekend, it only took a few times before I started wondering what I was doing. But I persevered. And what were these things, that made me want to go home? That made  me want to do something as extreme as disappearing from the convention to cry in some dark corner where no one could find me?  Women. Not all women. Far from all women. Those few, the ones whose words, whose eyes made me feel like garbage. And the worst part is that they probably didn't think too much about it. They were offhanded remarks or reactions, expressing a momentary thought through expression or words, questioning the dignity of someone being ready to put themselves into an outfit like mine. Note this, because it's really important: The ones that hurt me the most, were women! Men at their worst made me angry. Women at their worst made me sad. One triggers fight, another triggers flight.  I don't have to tell you which predator I rather go up against. 

But I have digressed. Why did I not use that line by Celty, when it meant so much to me? If it was what made me truly love this character, why didn't I flaunt her wisdom? Because taken out of context, it's a negative statement. It doesn't celebrate life, it doesn't credit all the good people in the world. It would be perceived as criticism towards the person reading it, accusing that person of having a pessimistic world view. Only a small fraction of the people attending the convention would've appreciated it. So I went with the anti-alien propaganda instead, and I couldn't be happier with that choice.

Credit to Theodor for managing to catch Superman

while he was exposed to truthonite. Ignore the Celty.

http://theodorkphotography.com/

I'm not there as Celty just because I love Celty. I'm there as Celty, because I love the world just as much as she does. She's not truly afraid of aliens, she doesn't fear for her own life, because she's immortal. She literally let a doctor more or less filet her for science, in exchange for a roof over her head and a life in the modern world. If aliens actually invaded, she'd probably be the last one standing in the war. She's not afraid for her sake ... she's afraid for your sake. Staying in character isn't fun, if others don't have fun with you. Everyone can appreciate a bit of poking fun at Science Fiction, no matter if you know about Celty or not. 

Any time I put a costume on, I always consider myself an entertainer first, and the character second. I much rather sacrifice a part of my character, than the enjoyment of those around me. I have sacrificed a lot when I cosplay Deadpool, but that's only partially because of the people around me. You need to be comfortable with the things you do, and some of the things Deadpool does, just aren't me. Celty is a great deal closer to me as a person than Deadpool is, and  even when I avoided her sage words on my whiteboard, I managed to play her at her fullest. A bit dorky, a bit paranoid and very loving. 

So, back to where I started this piece of the entry: If you can't appreciate all the good, because of the little that's bad, then you're part of the problem. It's so easy to forget the hundreds of positive things, because of the handful negative things. And it's easy to lose perspective, just because you  don't appreciate something. Do you hate me for loving the attention my female body gave me, even the times when it wasn't necessarily good attention? Does that make me enjoying it wrong? Or does it simply mean that in the same way that people are different levels of jerk, they can also be different levels of sensitive? You aren't wrong for being upset when someone make dog noises when you walk past them, but I'm no less right just because I don't get upset. I like feeling beautiful. Should I stop, because some don't agree that I should feel like that? Of course not. And this event was a blast! I've never felt more sad at a convention than I did at some points during this one, but that I'm still able to say that I had the time of my life, that says something! 

The quote from Celty that I emphasized on before can easily be put to use to describe this event, because the truth is this: The world will always have jerks. Racists can disappear from our parliament, sexism in the work industry can be utterly annihilated, and conventions can enforce zero tolerance on indecent behavior,  and we will still get people barking at us as we walk past. We will still have that woman giving you the most disapproving look you've received your whole life. Jerks will persevere. Jerks will endure, they will bolster their defenses and sexist pigs will remain sexist pigs, but a little bit smarter further down the road. 

The nimble black swan and the black refrigerator!

Bless you, swanlicious Caroline!

When the day is past, and you've ended up in a hundred different cameras, when children leave the convention with a smile on their faces, when your hug with that one wonderful person still warms that someone, and when you and your friends have had a ton of fun with the Superman anti-alien display, does that jerk that grabbed your ass actually matter? If he does, then I'm sorry ... he's not the only problem. You can't honestly mean that your friends, your precious memories from this day aren't worth more than the action of a jerk that's probably already forgotten about you, can you? 

Here's the thing. You aren't asked to forget about him, but you have the power to choose how much of the event he ruins for you. If you've been wronged, and a smiling child around the corner that giggles and cheers at you  doesn't bring you out of your funk, then you have some serious introspection ahead of you. It might sound harsh, but you need to understand that even at your darkest moment, you have the power to shine brightly upon another person's day! The jerk will forget about you, but losing a wrestling contest with a child that adores you will have created a long lasting memory for that child! I was at the brink of tears when I high-fived a little boy, and went smiling from that encounter. You need to push on!

Does the things we have to endure suck?  Yes. Would the world be a better place without them? Yes. But remember that without evil, we wouldn't have good. There wouldn't be light, if there wasn't darkness. Things would simply be. You can't appreciate the good, if you don't have anything bad that pales in comparison.  When you've had a bad day, you treasure a good day all the more. It's a small comfort when you've been wronged, but we need to warp the way we  see the world. It isn't as cruel as we  make it out to be. Are men jerks? Yes. Are men heroes? Yes! Does strangers not hold the door for you? When you drop your pen, isn't someone there almost immediately to help you get it? When you are about to trip, isn't there someone there to take hold of you almost instinctively? We are surrounded by the good things people do for us all the time, but because they happen so frequently, we 're blind to them. We don't remember the stranger that helped you find the cork to your pen, we don't remember that someone you've never seen before, and won't ever see again, that helped straighten your helmet when it was crooked. What we do remember, is that one guy that put his hand on your ass. Does what he think mean so much to you? 

At the end of the day, we need jerks in our lives. They bring with them the opportunity for small people to become great. It's a crooked way of looking at things, but I've had a crooked weekend. Jerks won't ever go away, so we need to stop making our worlds revolve around them! Instead make use of them, wield them as a tool, as a weapon, and swing with all your might. Remember h ow they made you feel, and vow to be the contrast! That man is still out there, so you need to balance the scale. Be good, be kind, be amazing! 

I'm sort of ranting right now, but I've wanted a chance to say this for the longest time, and now that I have a blog, I'm freaking saying it! Now can you see my point? I have suffered this weekend. My body is still hurting from all the walking, and some of the things I've heard and seen likely won't ever leave my mind, but despite the pain, I'm still ready to call this weekend amazing. 

EDIT: I have been told that this entry makes it seem as though I'm telling women to "walk it off". It's not what I'm saying! Women are far from always treated right, and it's a serious problem. That however doesn't mean that I can't try to find a bright side to it all, that I can't try to make a positive spin on things.  Jerks won't stop being jerks, you can't escape them, but  you do have the power to make the life of another person better. Don't let the bad rule your life, difficult as it may sound. There is always some light to be  find, we just need to look! Truly look, and not just hope to find it around the corner. You have to make an effort, and while simply being indeed shouldn't have to be an effort, reality isn't fair, and you need to be strong! I believe in you, and I love you!

 

 

Don't tell Celty that the gorgeous lady she's posing with is an alien.

Thank you Anna with entourage for the photo.

CONCLUDING PART THREE!

I have smiled, I have cried, and I have written about it. And I'm not done! What in the world is there left to write, you ask? For one, I've not talked about my experiences away from the convention floor yet! I said that this was an experiment that was meant to take the temperature of life at a convention as a woman, but honestly, why stop there, when I've got tons of experiences from outside the convention as well, in the same costume? Tomorrow will address that. 

What else? I've not talked all that much about the convention itself, but because of how unimportant that is to the experiment, I'm only going to tickle the topic. I'm also going to review my costume. Every piece of it. I'm going to talk about what people thought of me, and it. I'm going to share how I made it, and my figure. I'm going to look into compliments I received (Note compliments, NOT complaint), and how they differ from when I'm some other character, why that might be, and the subtle sexism nuances that you might not be aware of. I'm going to talk about what sort of expectations my friends had, when I told them about this experiment, and I might even answer the big question tomorrow: Why do I keep bragging about my friends? Tune in then!