An incident a little
while ago got me thinking about the reasons why I dress up in
costume. I started at the tender age of 10. My mum and dad had gone
along to the local dickens festival to photograph the event
(photography was a hobby of theirs) and as usual with their
photographic excursions I was brought along. I instantly fell in
love with the costumes, and particularly idolised two of the ladies –
both tall, graceful, elegant, impeccably dressed and the complete
opposite to my my slightly dumpy plain awkward self. One of these
ladies stopped dressing up a couple of years after I started, the
other was (and still is) the epitome of how I wanted to look in
costume. So when we went home my
mother attached a pair of sleeves to my party dress (looking back it
would have probably looked more Victorian without them) made what I
christened the banana bonnet (a piece of yellow quilted poly-cotton
in the shape of a rather wide banana tied to my head with ribbons)
and I joined in the next day.
My first year in costume complete with banana bonnet (far left)
23 years later and
apart from two festivals I have taken part in all of them since. So
why the attraction to dressing up, and why carry on well into my
adult years. Was it just a desire to look at least a little like the
graceful elegant ladies that inspired me. Partly yes, but to
understand the rest will need me to explain a little about myself. I
was always a bit of an odd child. The shopkeeper down the road
genuinely thought I was mute because I never spoke to the staff, only
pointed at the sweets I wanted. At primary school they thought I
couldn't read until my mother was called in and I explained I didn't
want to read the books because they were babyish. School reports
always said that I would do well if I'd stop daydreaming. Yet if it
was a subject I was interested in they would have a whole project
pack of work from me. I was always quite an adult child, finding
kids my own age a bit silly and preferring the company of adults.
Two incidents really shaped my pre-teen life and both happened around
the age of 8-9. The first was my best friend turned round to me and
told me he loved me. I had always thought of him like a brother, and
being completely shocked by his statement I told him that it was
disgusting. Unsurprisingly he never spoke to me again. I was cast
out of my little group of friends (all boys) and became a bit of a
lone wolf. And that's when the bullying began. Initially it was a
boy who thought he could practice his karate moves on me. Later
bullies were less violent but more mentally damaging and so the
pattern continued until I left school. The second incident was
family related and led me to have a nervous breakdown. My parents
came home to find that I had locked myself in a cupboard and was
refusing to come out. These things increased my natural tendency to
shyness and OCD, problems that are ongoing even now.
Always a bit of a tomboy
I've been told my
shyness comes off as standoffishness. A good example of this was
when I met my genetic g.grandmother for the first time in a local
supermarket when I was around 15. I had no idea who this lady was who
came up and started talking to me, and she went up to my mother and
said “she's a bit up herself isn't she!”. I'm useless at
conversation. If someone comes up to me and asks how I'm doing the
general response is “I'm fine” then panic as to what to say next.
Either crippling shyness sets in and I try and find some way to
escape (mentally or physically) or it takes me so long to think of
something else to say that normally the person or the conversation
has moved on. I also can't do eye contact which probably doesn't help
matters. The last defining point of my character is that I try very
hard not to be noticed. Even walking down the street I can't stand
the thought that someone might notice me, and say or think something
negative. I dislike attention being drawn to me, I'm terrible at
taking a complement and hate being thanked for anything (especially
in public). This all leads me to be terrible at making friends and
even worse at keeping them. On the plus side I do have a loving and
supportive husband, a wonderful little girl and a good sense of
humour :D
Aged around 14 (far left)
So with my shyness,
doomsday attitude towards people's opinion of me, and my desire not to
be noticed, why am I dressing up and parading around in front of
hundreds of people? I think at first it was escapism. For one week
of every year I could change from my jeans and t-shirt self into a
young Victorian lady. The people who looked and took photos and
wanted to talk were not interested in me, it was the costume that got
their attention. I could be seen without being seen. If people
wanted to talk to me, I could just talk about the costume. The
festival itself was like one big family (including the standard
arguments and people not talking to each other), and I fell I love
with the town in which it is held (Broadstairs).
I was always a bit
of an outsider, not part of any of the main groups, but I made
friends played croquet and had fun. This happy state lasted for
around ten years until I made the mistake of starting a relationship
with my best friend who also took part in the festival. Ladies and
gentlemen if you ever consider doing this think very carefully, as
the fallout is not pleasant to say the least. I think it would be
fair to say we were doomed from the start. Initially we lived in
separate parts of the country, his mother disliked me and my mother
loathed him and we both lived with our parents. Despite this we
managed to last a few years but a mistake on his part and my
insecurities coupled with my father having a mid life crisis and
going completely cuckoo (to the point of stalking and sabotaging the
house myself and my mother were living in) dealt the death blow to
our relationship. The fallout from this was that my friends were his
friends, and with both of us taking part in the festival it lead to
some having the uncomfortable position of trying to talk to both of
us (many thanks and apologies if you are one of these) or completely
blanking me. One lady still glares at me today, much to the
consternation of my dear husband who couldn't understand why I was
being given such dirty looks.
In my 20s
Yet despite this I still carried on
dressing up, as I still had something to escape from. My mother had
always be controlling but the breakdown of her relationship with my
father and his eventual death made it far worse, and I knew no
better. Even though I was more on the outskirts of the festival
family then ever before it was far better than my home life. That
was until the man who was to become my husband entered my life. He
showed me that my life didn't have to be the way it was. When my
mother chucked me out he took me in, when she called a week later
expecting me to come back he allowed me to stay. Three years to the
day of us starting a relationship we got married and 8 months later
our little girl surprised us by joining us a month early.
I still dress up though
I'm not so bothered about it now. Perhaps it is because finally I
have nothing to escape from. I still have my love of the costume
(you just need to see my blog, Pinterest and Facebook page to realise
that), and I love the attention that I get when dressed up without
having to be the real me. Also the festival has been a part of my
life so long that to lose it would be rather like losing a friend.
But I think the main reason is that somewhere deep inside I'm still
that little girl who looked at the pretty dresses and wanted to be an
elegant princess once in a while.
Me and my wonderful family
