Cinematical

Spring has sprung, and while the rest of America books trips to Disneyland or goes mountain biking, or whatever it is normal people do, a very special segment of geekdom is setting to work. They are digging through fabric stores trying to find authentic velvets, combing leather outlets for hobnails and buckles, and studying the color variations of Hogwarts scarves. In other words, they are costuming. Conventions, Renaissance Faires and pirate festivals are just around the corner for a costumer – there are people pulling all night sessions on corsets and Iron Man costumes as we speak.

By now you're thinking "cosplayer weirdos!" and let me stop you there. First, there are two categories of people who do this – there are costumers, and there are cosplayers. Both categories have their share of the insane, but also many who are pretty cool. Like anything else, there is definitely a line with this hobby, and way too many people who have crossed it. Chances are, if you've visited a convention, Renaissance Faire, Hollywood Blvd., or watched Trekkies, you've encountered a few of them. Hopefully though, you've also encountered a few of the cooler ones and know that we are not all fruit loops.

My sister and I are costumers. Yes, that it us pictured up top. I'm Queen Gorgo, and Sarah is Selene. In the middle is her boyfriend, Michael Sheridan, the professional Jack Sparrow. The three of us seem to have stumbled into this hobby accidentally. Sarah and I grew up attending the Colorado Renaissance Festival, and spent our springs searching out authentic brocades and wools for our bodices and skirts. Our family has always been history obsessed and it just never struck us as a particularly odd interest – especially as friends and relatives were forever calling us up to borrow pieces of our faire garb.

As Sarah and I became too old to trick or treat, but old enough to party, we began expanding our costuming to Halloween. I think my first foray was the infamous Agent Scully costume, which was something I thought would be a lark for Halloween. I was already sporting her haircut (what geek girl wasn't?), and found a near replica of her Fight the Future suit at a department store. Wham! It was a hit and before I knew it, I had been recruited by a David Duchovny lookalike to attend the local sci-fi convention with him.

Only when I found myself discussing how painful high heels were with a Klingon in drag, as an Obi-Wan and Darth Maul chanted "Scully put the F in FBI!" did I realize that I was in a whole new realm, one far odder than the Renaissance Faire. It just spiraled from there. And after a Halloween where Sarah and I spent hours on Selene and Lara Croft, we just looked at each other and said "We've spent all this money, let's just wear our costumes to ComicCon." We accepted the inevitable, and became costumers.

Costumers generally come into the hobby via the Renaissance Faire, or Jedi robes. We strive for authentic recreation. Last year, I spent hours trying to track down Spartan fabric, determined if I couldn't achieve film accuracy, I would stick to historic. Weeks later, I was in possession of yards of unbleached hemp, purchased from the company who had actually supplied 300. I argued with jewelry makers all over the Internet trying to get someone to hammer me her bronze bracelet.

Sarah's obsession was trying to replicate Kate Beckinsale's magnetic gun holsters in Underworld. Michael hand-carved the molds of his belt buckles after studying Jack Sparrow frame by frame. And that was this year – in the past my mother and sister spent hours with Sculpey and tweezers making Lothlorian leaves for LOTR costumes. Not all the dressed-up geeks one encounters at conventions stress about historic Sparta or belt buckles, though. Many are just about the playing, and they probably have way more fun than we costumers do. I realized this when I encountered other Queen Gorgos, who had been quite content to use whatever white fabric they could, and safety pin the leather straps together. (If only they knew how much Carlos, my tailor, and I had agonized over Grecian drapery and how to hide the fastenings!)

Again, you are probably reading this going "I'm sorry, all of you people are nuts." But we're not! This just isn't as unusual as it used to be. The Internet has really made costuming and cosplaying mainstream. If you doubt it, you only have to look at companies like NECA and Master Replicas. Back in 1990, a fantasy movie like Highlander could garner a sword replica. Now, any costume movie automatically gets a plethora of prop replicas -- you can buy an entire King Leonidas costume from NECA if you so desire. No longer do costumers have to make do, wait a few months and you can buy Sweeney Todd's razor. Costuming has become big business. It also helps that so many movies that costumers latch on to have been so wildly popular. Pirates of the Caribbean sealed what Lord of the Rings had begun – suddenly, men who were unwilling to join the 501st were caving in to their desire to wear eyeliner and accessorize. It is another facet of the geek chic trend.

The thing is, most costumers are just expressing a love of film. We're like film students who study lighting and shot techniques, and try to replicate them. Costume fans are also seeking the how. We're endlessly fascinated with the construction and the color, how they are made with lighting and make-up in mind, the symbolism that is often worked in, the stories of the actors in them. One of my favorite examples is Rachel Weisz's Spanish dress in The Fountain – if you look carefully, the Tree of Life is embroidered on the back of the skirt. Another favorite of mine is Lara's red seduction dress in Doctor Zhivago – Julie Christie hated the dress and refused to wear it, until they stressed to her that she was supposed to feel miserable in it. It wasn't intended to be sexy, it was intended to be demeaning. Two sites really exemplify and normalize this kind of fandom – my favorite is The Costumer's Guide to Movie Costumes, the other is Alley Cat Scratch. Both sites arose out of a love of analyzing film costumes – one purely from Lord of the Rings, the other from post-Merchant and Ivory costume dramas.

Of course, costumers eventually end up duplicating whatever they've analyzed. No one sets out to be a costumer – it is an accidental process. After you've studied the construction of Arwen's dress, you want to try to make it. When you succeed, you might as well wear it somewhere. That's what's happened to us, anyway. Naturally, there's a love of the character too, the same as when you chose a Halloween costume. I love Lara Croft, and I love being her for a day or two. But I loved hunting down the authentic boots just as much. (Not so much the gun rig. Man, was that a pain in the ass.)

So, this spring finds us doing it all again. And if you're rolling your eyes, take a bit of perspective. Some people go to spring training to watch their baseball team, others spend hundreds on golf equipment or mountain bikes. This is what we do instead. This year, our efforts are a bit more subdued. Sarah is deep in the process of making a Sweeney Todd costume for Halloween. It's not for Sheridan the Depp lookalike – but for herself. She's a cosmetology student and the chance to cut hair as the Demon Barber of Fleet Street is just too good to pass up. I'm too poor this year, so my costuming is largely external as I spend my afternoons doing stomach crunches to be in Lara Croft shape for ComicCon. But given our circle, there's no telling what could happen. I may find myself being fitted for that Dark Phoenix suit I swore I'd never do – and wondering how I get myself into these things.