I saw the best costumers of my generation destroyed by madness, ranting hysterical naked
Dragging themselves through the lettercols and interest forums looking for a flamewar, obsessive crafters wishing for some explanation as to the difference between costuming and cosplay,
who just want one single definition of steampunk already, preferably contained in one historical era, if at all possible the Victorian-era, please.
Who are pretty sure that whatever is going on at San Diego Comic-con is not that important, since surely if it was they would be there, duh.
Who don’t particularly think the title of “judge” really imbues someone with the capacity to, well, *judge* the brilliance of their creation
who set up academies, groups, organizations and hermitages in the vain hope of finding a rarified enough atmosphere for their genius, yet failed.
who sighed in hotels rooms in their underwear, their costume complete but the unwashed masses outside not up to the task of recognizing their brilliance.
who grew the perfect period hairstyle and had to suffer knowing that all around them was a sea of Lacee wigs.
who suffered in thousand dollar corsets while around them some upstart in a pinned-up skirt looked far to comfortable to be accurate.
with sergers, with darts, with sleep deprivation, encroaching madness, jealousy and frustration.
incomprehensible new trends coming up and inflaming the amateur masses with etsy-infested delusions of craftmanship.
Yipe! Volume 3, Issue 3, April 1, 2011