|We both approached one another and asked for a picture|
at the same time
Also, welcome to the site, Savannah and Friend, Executioner, and Team Canada!
When I say 'fresh', I also mean that I am completely covered in dirt, have difficult-to-explain tan lines (corset laces on stomach, what up) and have learned there are several varieties of 'cannot walk', many of which I have experienced this weekend. I also got hit by a mini-twister of dust and hay from the wind in the valley and have the residue of four makeup applications on my face. All. Without. A. Shower.
Hi, there. I'm Sonja, and I'll be your Crazy Blogger for today. Let's talk about a festival.
|Much water-spray in the early hours|
Going to the Faire and dropping my generally grumpy, tired, sarcastic self off for a nice nap in the meadow is a difficult thing to explain to people who just haven't been there. But in an effort to explain it, I'll start off by saying that I communicated with about five or six fauns at the same time (plus a fairy, plus a pirate, plus a security guard, plus a child, plus a dog) without using any English or common language (or an uncommon language) at all. Instead, we:
- Stomped our hooves, meaning "I'm so excited that we're all fauns!"
- Rolled our tongues in a tone scaling upward, then clicking our tongues thrice, meaning "Hello!"
- Alternating a low-high-low tongue-rolling tone, then clicking our tongues twice, meaning "You look fantastic", often followed by a point to a favorite piece
- Controlled our laughter to be sing-song-y, meaning "Let's impress the child, talk with the pirate, or carefully concern the security guard"
- ...and pantomiming for anything especially intricate, like "Let's take a selfie" or "It's The Ogre, run awaaaaay!"
...The Ogre. Right. There was a man walking around with a mallet and a watergun who worked for the Faire, sniffing down fairies and all their ilk. Pearl, who also worked for the faire as a faun, let Stormy and I in on the fact that blowing him kisses would take him down. Of course, I hadn't known this at my first standoff with him, threatening instead to use the powers of the forest imbued in myself (which was made up on the spot). But the second time we met him, Stormy gave him flowers and I blew kisses, driving him away! Gosh, that was awesome.
Then, there was plenty of standing around for pictures. We had people with camera-phones and people with DSLRs and business cards stopping us. I had children hugging my legs (Just faun things, guys) and other fauns stomping their hooves at me and laughing, trying not to smudge their makeup while hiding their faces. I also romped around a lot with Team Canada, which was always a treat, but even more so this time because I wouldn't see them next year.
|Stormy took this before I put my horns, makeup, and jewelry on.|
She wouldn't be singing. I wouldn't be speaking Faire-Faun. Neither of us would be wearing makeup. I wouldn't pick up a claymore 'just for kicks', if at all in the outside world. Wearing loud, jangling jewelry wouldn't be very acceptable, and all the henna on my hands would be around for a few weeks. Winking and shaking my rear (in the Faire case, my awesome tail) would be taken as crude instead of excited.
If I saw Deadpool, I wouldn't bow to him and say "My good man, how fare ye on this second day?".
We wouldn't be screaming "GERMANY! GERMANY! GERMANY!" again for a whole 'nother year.
It was over.
|Following a trend we had on Twitter,|
in which we would post a thumbs-up with any
finished or in-progress costuming piece.