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I was not immune to the notion. So many pictures were now sitting in my recent folder on my phone that I made a mental note to share them to the cloud and create an album specifically for the con.
Everything about the experience was stimulating. It was loud, but in the best way possible. The hype and excitement were ever present like when one is surrounded by the thousands of other people at a concert. You were all there for the same reason with the contagious energy hitting you like a drug.
The smell of subpar hot dogs and warmed-over pizza slices lingered on the outer reaches of the convention floor. Occasionally I’d get a whiff of some gnarly BO that was amplified by what I could only assume as the restricting, non-breathable synthetic costume fabrics.
Every color known to man could be seen in a single square foot section. Some costumes were busier and more obnoxious than Sinbad’s wardrobe from the ’90’s.
I was attracted to the crazy amounts of glitter, sequins, lamé, metallic detailing, and lights. Yes, some costumes were either illuminated or had accessories that lit up. I was like a magpie, distracted by all things shiny.
It was absolutely mesmerizing. Off to my left was a group of Disney princesses. One of them was Aurora from Sleeping Beauty, and her dress was incredible. It was a ballgown silhouette that featured a regal off the shoulder neckline. But the interesting thing about it was the fabric was a glittery pink-to-blue ombré. The shape was an exact replica from the cartoon and the material was an exquisite artistic interpretation from the iconic cake scene.
I had to get a picture with her. After getting the group’s approval and standing next to her, I heard one of them—Mulan—chatting with a passerby.
“No, we all handmade our cosplays.”
Wait. These gowns were handmade?
“Oh my god,” I exclaimed, jumping head first into a conversation I hadn’t been a part of seconds ago. “You ladiesmakethese dresses? How, I mean…how?” I was at a total loss. These could have been on a rack in the Disney store (if malls still existed in their entirety).
It was Merida that spoke up an explained that, as a group, they each brainstorm about a year in advance. They decide on a fandom, choose the characters and begin making the patterns for their outfits.
“We’re entering in the cosplay competition Saturday night,” Jasmine told me.
A competition? I wanted to go.
“You should come,” suggested Rapunzel.
Elsa and Anna spoke at the same time, “It’s at seven, fifth floor.”
That was perfect! I’d hit E up and see if she wanted to go with me.
Wandering through the Exhibition Hall, I wound my way around table after table and booth after booth. Some sold figurines while others offered specialized costumes. I found myself petting a furry vest that I passed, the rough texture making me wonder if it was yak hair or something else completely.
By the time I got back to my room, I only had an hour to get ready.
I had a fleeting thought about not going. Had Jake asked me out of pity? Had he only wanted to talk about Boobgate?
Deciding my thoughts were absurd (because what guy who threw out a perv on my behalf would act in a similar fashion?), I tossed my hair in a messy bun and took a quick body shower.
Dressing in record time, I looked around my room when I heard my stomach protesting in hunger. On the plane, I had eaten my last granola bar that I packed and I knew—Iknew—I’d get charged if I ate the food from my room’s minibar. But when my stomach turned in on itself, I caved.
Rummaging around, I settled on a small tin of macadamia nuts and wolfed them down like my life depended on it. It was only after the fact that I thought to slyly swap the tin with something of equal weight in case the minibar was censored.
Whatever. My stomach had quit grumbling by the time I hit the elevator, but it didn’t stop the fact that I was hungry enough to eat my weight in food.
A rather tart hostess gave me the most skeptical look when I told her I was meeting someone in the banquet room.
Giving me the once over like my claim was something she heard every day, she finally excused herself to the back. But to be fair, I’m sure she had heard it all before.
She returned, Jake at her side. He looked a little tired, but he had changed and he smelled like a fresh shower with just a hint of cologne. And damn, the way his casual flannel was strategically unbuttoned at the top and the sleeves rolled halfway up his forearms, it did things to me.
This time when my stomach rolled, it had nothing to do with hunger. For food at least.
When he extended the invite, telling me there would be others, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t nervous. Was this like a room full of celebrities and I’d be the odd girl out? Would I be under a microscope and viewed as a lowly outsider? Or worse: an opportunist.
But, after watching Jake through a lens for most of the day, it was apparent that he was a good guy. Not that I’d spent any time around actors, but bad reputations were hard to ignore.
Jake had been patient with the fans, energetic and accommodating. I’d recognized the ones that were dressed as Koil and there were several twosomes that were Koil and Wingman.
