Good Morrow or Some Junk

I am spending this weekend, and almost every weekend for the next two months, helping my friend K run her booth at the Ren Fest.

I'll be spouting gibberish like "Good morrow, m'lady, how fare thee today?" and "Zounds!" and "Prithee, my lord, remove thy tallywhacker from out my tankard" in a corny, false British or Irish or indeterminate Not American accent while selling her award-winning products that I don't want to name here in case the Ren Fest costume patrol happens to find this blog.

They are fierce about the costuming. I am worried I won't pass muster, but I am ready to argue my case if I must.

First, the Renaissance Festival is not a reflection of the Renaissance period, but more accurately a mixture of Dark Ages, Middle Ages, and a dash of Elizabethan/Regency Era romance novel thrown in for fun.

Second, the behavior, speech, and dress of participants is, at best, a characterization of the romanticized perception of these historical eras, and not at all an accurate reflection of the society, mores, and norms of the times.

Third, you may rightly argue that my blue hair is not "period" and so must be covered entirely lest some poor fair-goer be traumatized, demoralized, and jolted completely out of the illusion of having travelled back in time, but I will rightly argue right back that there was no such thing as polyester fabric, polyester thread, or most of the materials in your faux-period costume that you're so proud of, and if you want to more correctly reflect the eras of which you purport to be an expert, you might restrict your materials to wood, bone, wool, or linen - sorry, cotton wasn't really an option, back then. You could have silk or satin if you are nobility, but the ration of nobility to peasant at these fairs is already overblown. Also, you'll need more grease in your hair so it doesn't show under your wig, if you're lucky enough to have one, and you probably shouldn't bathe for the next six months or so, if you really want to be correct.

I could go on, but really? It's all in fun, and if they can remember that and keep off my back about the only head scarf I own that remotely matches my costume, and the slashed sleeves on my blouse don't do a very good job of covering my tattoos but I need time to fix that, and the knee-high leather boots that no woman would ever have worn, well...we'll get along fine.

Meanwhile, if you're going to the Georgia Renaissance Festival, come and find me - I'll buy you a fried pickle, because we know those just scream "Renaissance/Dark Ages/Middle Ages/Elizabethan/Regency" era.