02 December 2008
Yes, my mom has been worried for years...
"do you know what women used to go through?"
"they had feinting couches for a reason."
"women's bodies were permanently changed because of fashion!"
"just be careful, don't lace these things too tight..."
After 13 years of Renaissance Faire, and five years of Dickens Fair one would think I'd be used to corsets and bodices... one would think I would know my limits and how to eat and drink while wearing such a contraption.
Apparently... *shrug*... not so much.
Last Friday was the opening day of Dickens Fair. Having purchased a new (to me) costume (pictures to come as soon as Mr. Nanning sends them to me), I was very excited, couldn't wait to get dressed and onto the streets of London with my gentleman escort. So much fun to play a "proper" Victorian lady.
Stepping up to the pub at Mad Sal's... people looking shocked when I'm unescorted... a Lady would never go out in that part of town without an escort. Of course, when I'm there alone, my escort is usually getting ready to go on stage, and I can give them a cheeky look and tell them that my escort is "indisposed in back, leaving me completely to my own devices!" Oh yes, shocking, I must say. *gasp*
So, I felt fine all day, though the day flew by. I made a couple of purchases, and christened a new goblet with champagne. By the time CSB's 2:30 show came around I was pretty hungry, but decided to wait until after he finished dancing to start prodding him for lunch.
Luckily, the Victorian Lady doesn't have to smile, she is proper and stoic, and can lean on her escort and be in quiet pain with a blank look on her face. All she ever really has to say is, "Happy Christmas." with a curtsy and a small smile (or grimace as the case may be).
When the show was over, I was famished, and Bangers and Mash sounded PERFECT! Not to my squished tummy, but to my brain... yes, the brain wanted Bangers and Mash.. the tummy... well it wanted a bit of water and a soda cracker. No wonder those Victorian women got their corsets so tight.
So, of course, once again I listen to the brain instead of the rest of my body, and ate half a plate of Bangers and Mash (omg! The salt! The SALT!! YUM!)... then thought... "I'm totally stuffed, I should get a beer." I never said my brain was the smartest part of my body... as a matter of fact... you'd think I would know by now NOT to listen to the brain after two glasses of champers. *eye roll*
Beer in goblet, we decide to go outside for some air. I think to myself... "hm, it IS suddenly quite warm in the Cow Palace... oddly so." Yet, don't connect the food, beer, champers, and corset to the sudden oppressive heat... really?
As we're we're out in the fresh air, I start to feel light headed, and in my passive way, I quietly mention, "ya know, I might just need you to loosen my corset at some point." Although, by then it was too late... I didn't realize that my body was saying "now" while my brain was saying, "oxygen? bah.. whatev... oohh... look at the pretty aldjfa;lkjrlekjae..."
Suddenly, I can't breathe.
Suddenly, I'm pouring sweat.
Suddenly, I know I'm going pale and clammy, and totally less attractive than I was a minute ago...
Suddenly, Giddy isn't so Giddy any more.
Suddenly, the corset... no, the corset still looks awesome... that's the thing about corsets.
Luckily, one of the last things I was able to get clearly out of my mouth was, "can you please loosen my corset... NOW.... No, NOW... I'm seeing spots, if you could do it faster..." Even more luckily, CSB was right there, and through my bright colorful spots and little black patches, he had me breathing again (and slowly sipping water) in no time. Once again, he is my hero.
Not only that but then he says something to the effect of, "hey, we have two more days of this, what do you say we leave early?"
oh... yes, please. Three days of corset? I'm okay with one of them being less than eight hours.
Then, "I'm going to go get our stuff, I'll be right back."
And on top of all that, once he came back, "would you like me to go get the car or do you feel okay to walk?"
By then, I was fine, but still appreciated the thought. No matter the era, he is always the gentleman.
Now that I can breathe again (thanks to CSB), it is time to find this character a name. I mean really, I can't meet up with Mrs. Benedict, Mr. Lammle, and Mrs. Smallwood in the street and NOT have a name. Mr. Lammle said he would help me come up with something unique and fitting... and I can always depend on Mrs. Smallwood for creative anachronisms.
I have come up with a couple that make me giggle like a 12 year old boy... I can't wait to try them out...
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I should be processing the shots of you and of CSB's show this evening.
In the name of womanhood could you just learn from our history and not repeat it?
can I please get a picture of you screaming for air!!! :)
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