Two mornings in a row
Mar. 1st, 2009 10:29 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
gurdymonkeyWhy is it I have to deal with this first thing in the morning? Yesterday it was the doofus who never signs his posts who exhorted me to "keep living the dream," so I had to go upside his head with the electronic version of the smackity fan and explain why it put me off my breakfast and is deeply insulting. My response: "Forgive me, but the so-called Dream has been used to rationalize intellectual laziness and wooly thinking. I am not living some pepperoni and extra onion dream. EVER. I am attempting to create the illusion of a reality based on research and fact, thank you." And don't you forget it, Buckwheat. Yes, those were my outside keystrokes.
Today it's the scribe who found my website and wants a "collection of period kimono patterns" so she can make "period scrolls based off kimono designs." So I pointed her to a number of things she would've found had she actually bothered to explore my website: (a) there is no such thing as a period "kimono" because the term didn't exist before the 19th century; (b) that I have links to a bunch of extant period garments, not to mention genre art depicting people wearing 'em, the Kyoto Costume Museum, a detailed bibliography and so forth; (c) that I also have an entire page devoted to period picture-scrolls which will blow her preconceived notions of what period Japanese scrolls look like. I also directed her to this.
EDIT: I did get a prompt thank you to my initial response and an explanation that she is new to things Japanese, feeling a bit of "artist's block" and really casting around for images and information that will give spark some ideas. I sent her some museum links at that point, as well as the names of the pertinent Japanese eras for the SCA, and encouraged her to surf widely and indescriminately, because she might find inspiration on a ceramic bowl or a lacquer box or even a saddle.
Last night was an opportunity to get in touch with my inner girly girl (which is not the same as getting in touch with one's inner Disney princess, or Disney villainess, as may have been the case with some of the other attendees to the charity event I attended last night). There is absolutely no point whatsoever in trying to outglitz a ballroom full of transvestites, so I went understated: this silver brocad
e dress (having added a single row of silver sequins at the neckline), some sparkly rhinestone earrings and my grandmother's engagement ring, and a pair of cute but annoying silver sling back sandals that won't stay slung, damn 9 West and all their ilk.(Two steps and the straps are flapping in the breeze.) Hair was down with a couple of rhinestone clips to keep it back off my face. ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
bovil may have gotten a couple of shots of me in the thing - and I did get a number of compliments from folks I'd never met before, so it was a win.
kproche gave me his arm and introduced me to the Grande Dame of the Imperial Court herself, Mama Jose. It's a good thing I know how to treat royalty. The SCA could learn some things from the Imperial Court organization. The official business (consisting mostly of processions of local and visiting royalty being announced to the audience and a steady stream of gift bags being presented to the outgoing monarchs) was kept moving briskly and was interspersed with entertaining numbers. The SCA bardic community could learn some things by watching drag numbers: if you look like you're enjoying yourself, your audience will enjoy themselves. My fave: the "Hercules" number by the Hawaiian council. (If I had one nit to pick it would be the sound system: all the way to eleven, all the time.)
It was also an opportunity to simply enjoy the spectacle. There were some gorgeous outfits, some funny ones, and some downright terrifying ones as well. And that's all in a good way. Drag is about being beautiful and outrageous, and to hell with the actual results of the genetic crap shoot. Having painted my face and teeth colors not found in nature and sailed around in seventy yards of fabric simply because I can, I get that.
Today it's the scribe who found my website and wants a "collection of period kimono patterns" so she can make "period scrolls based off kimono designs." So I pointed her to a number of things she would've found had she actually bothered to explore my website: (a) there is no such thing as a period "kimono" because the term didn't exist before the 19th century; (b) that I have links to a bunch of extant period garments, not to mention genre art depicting people wearing 'em, the Kyoto Costume Museum, a detailed bibliography and so forth; (c) that I also have an entire page devoted to period picture-scrolls which will blow her preconceived notions of what period Japanese scrolls look like. I also directed her to this.
EDIT: I did get a prompt thank you to my initial response and an explanation that she is new to things Japanese, feeling a bit of "artist's block" and really casting around for images and information that will give spark some ideas. I sent her some museum links at that point, as well as the names of the pertinent Japanese eras for the SCA, and encouraged her to surf widely and indescriminately, because she might find inspiration on a ceramic bowl or a lacquer box or even a saddle.
Last night was an opportunity to get in touch with my inner girly girl (which is not the same as getting in touch with one's inner Disney princess, or Disney villainess, as may have been the case with some of the other attendees to the charity event I attended last night). There is absolutely no point whatsoever in trying to outglitz a ballroom full of transvestites, so I went understated: this silver brocad
e dress (having added a single row of silver sequins at the neckline), some sparkly rhinestone earrings and my grandmother's engagement ring, and a pair of cute but annoying silver sling back sandals that won't stay slung, damn 9 West and all their ilk.(Two steps and the straps are flapping in the breeze.) Hair was down with a couple of rhinestone clips to keep it back off my face. bovil may have gotten a couple of shots of me in the thing - and I did get a number of compliments from folks I'd never met before, so it was a win.kproche gave me his arm and introduced me to the Grande Dame of the Imperial Court herself, Mama Jose. It's a good thing I know how to treat royalty. The SCA could learn some things from the Imperial Court organization. The official business (consisting mostly of processions of local and visiting royalty being announced to the audience and a steady stream of gift bags being presented to the outgoing monarchs) was kept moving briskly and was interspersed with entertaining numbers. The SCA bardic community could learn some things by watching drag numbers: if you look like you're enjoying yourself, your audience will enjoy themselves. My fave: the "Hercules" number by the Hawaiian council. (If I had one nit to pick it would be the sound system: all the way to eleven, all the time.)It was also an opportunity to simply enjoy the spectacle. There were some gorgeous outfits, some funny ones, and some downright terrifying ones as well. And that's all in a good way. Drag is about being beautiful and outrageous, and to hell with the actual results of the genetic crap shoot. Having painted my face and teeth colors not found in nature and sailed around in seventy yards of fabric simply because I can, I get that.
