Queen's Prize 2014
So the long-(very long) overdue post about Queen's Prize!
It was amazing! I ended up pulling an all-nighter to get my bliaut in something resembling a state of completion (full disclosure: it was not remotely completed). I was stitching away on the sleeve hems...and finishing the silk around the neck...and contemplating trying to hem the thing...and suddenly it was 4 a.m. and I had to leave by 7 to get to Lost Moor, and I still didn't have laces or a belt (or a belt pouch, but more on that later) so I pinned the everloving daylights out of the hem and called it good.
That
is, after lacing myself into it and discovering that I had no interest
in attempting to remove myself from it again. There are 136 eyelets in
this bliaut, and I think I've finished binding about 17 of them at the
time of this writing. Oh yes. I begin to think Viking is actually a
rather attractive choice. Or Persian. Or anything that doesn't involve one hundred and thirty-fucking-six eyelets.
But I digress. At 6 a.m., I still had no belt pouch and had accepted
that I would be using a mundane belt because there simply wasn't time to
fuss with creating one (original plan? weave a belt. The same night
that I was doing all these other things.) I grabbed a rectangular-ish
scrap left over from my chemise, sewed it into a passable drawstring
pouch, and tied it to my belt with ribbons! (People used ribbons all the
time, right? and definitely to attach something that holds important
stuff like money to their belts...)
Grabbed the last few essentials and sped out the door, with a brief detour (in full 12th century French) to toss the trash in the dumpster. My neighbors (whom I do not know, having only lived here for a week at the time) were of course on their porch at 7 a.m. on a Saturday to see me traipsing down to the dumpster in full skirt, belled sleeves, and jingling pouch (already full of money, keys, and other things like my driver's license).
Okay, hit the road, drove through the absolute densest fog I have ever had the (ahem) pleasure of tearing through at eighty miles an hour on a two-lane highway, had to stop somewhere in Nowheresville at a high school to take a little nap so I wouldn't fall asleep and drive off the road or something, but ultimately made it to Lost Moor intact and fairly early. It's easy to find events when there are lots of medieval people wandering around the sidewalks.
Got into the event, panicked a little at the gate (never been to an event before, what's all this paperwork, oh god there's a lot of people behind me and I don't know what I'm doing but I'm holding them up) but survived, and proceeded to make myself very small against a wall in an attempt to keep out of the way of knights and crowned heads and people carrying tables. I was very scared and feeling very foolish and thinking I might just run away home after all when an extremely kind man (whose name I have forgotten) noticed me carefully not crying and immediately introduced himself. Upon learning it was my first event and I didn't know anyone, he grabbed about five people as they walked by and introduced them, and offered to show me around if I wanted; another man made sure I knew how to find him or any of his household if I needed help, and I ended up trailing in the wake of one of the judges (and a duchess, I believe) for a while until I ran into the ladies from Cum an Iolair, who I'd met the week before at their shire meeting.
Whew. It was a busy day. I spent lots of time staring (probably open-mouthed) at people's garb, at their projects, at how everyone seemed to know pretty much everyone else. The entries were amazing. There was a man who did various styles of Japanese braiding, another who'd carved and painted a beautiful chest, someone had made a pair of shoes that looked as if they'd fallen straight out of the 15th century; one man had set up a Persian tea service, and the corner of the tent it would have been served in. There was a Roman with a picking experiment (various ages of asparagus and beets, pickled and very tasty) and a Viking lady who made the same soup in six pots of different materials to see how the flavor was affected (and it was noticeable). Several women had embroidery projects, there was some narrow weaving (inkle and tablet), another woman had a dyeing experiment on different fibers with different mordants. Some people had clothes, both full outfits and specific garments, and some had illuminations. I spoke to a girl who'd reconstructed a Persian dance off what she could glean from paintings and what she knew of cultural events that would have included dancing, but unfortunately missed her performance.
About halfway through the day, I was making my way along the edge of the exhibition hall when a woman with a crown on her head stopped me to compliment my dress. I thanked her, especially since it was my first attempt, and she and her companion looked at each other with the kind of look that says, "We've found one and we're going to keep her." She introduced herself as Duchess Conna, of Three Rivers (I think. It was a very long day), and she declared that she had to introduce me to some people. I got shown round and spoke to I don't know how many people, and eventually someone commented that she didn't do much garb because she was afraid of sewing machines. I told her I don't much like them either, and anyway I don't have one, so it was a moot issue with this dress since I'd sewn it by hand. The whole circle of people (half of them crowned heads) stared at me. I didn't know that was such an uncommon thing, but Her Grace showed me off to even more people after that, and made sure to point out my seams and mention that I'd done them by hand. I was incandescent, I blushed so much.
And then, Court, which was lovely and many people were recognized for their fine contributions to the kingdom (including the woman with the soup experiment and the man with the brilliant shoes and the man with the painted chest. Not that his chest was painted...ah, if you've read this far you know what that's about) and suddenly the Queen called for all the newcomers to come up. There was a susurrus across the hall as all the newcomers whispered frantically, "What do I do?!" and all their neighbors said something like, "Go up, bow, kneel before Their Majesties, it'll be fine." And up we went, and we eyed each other to see if anyone had any idea what we, of all people, were doing before the throne, and the Queen greeted us all and gave us each a mug to bring to future events. And she complimented my veil, at which point I lost the power of speech, but luckily not the ability to walk, so I did not embarrass myself on the way back to my place.
All in all, it was an incredible day and a marvelous first event, and when I got up to Mag Mor I had one of my friends help me unlace (note: the fact that I did not know how to get out of my dress was amusing to a great many people, and led to many warnings about not telling the boys that. Too bad there weren't any girls interested in helping...) and was put to bed, as I'd been awake for a solid 40 hours at that point.
It was amazing! I ended up pulling an all-nighter to get my bliaut in something resembling a state of completion (full disclosure: it was not remotely completed). I was stitching away on the sleeve hems...and finishing the silk around the neck...and contemplating trying to hem the thing...and suddenly it was 4 a.m. and I had to leave by 7 to get to Lost Moor, and I still didn't have laces or a belt (or a belt pouch, but more on that later) so I pinned the everloving daylights out of the hem and called it good.
 |
| Note thousand-yard stare, and I took this the day after the event. |
Grabbed the last few essentials and sped out the door, with a brief detour (in full 12th century French) to toss the trash in the dumpster. My neighbors (whom I do not know, having only lived here for a week at the time) were of course on their porch at 7 a.m. on a Saturday to see me traipsing down to the dumpster in full skirt, belled sleeves, and jingling pouch (already full of money, keys, and other things like my driver's license).
Okay, hit the road, drove through the absolute densest fog I have ever had the (ahem) pleasure of tearing through at eighty miles an hour on a two-lane highway, had to stop somewhere in Nowheresville at a high school to take a little nap so I wouldn't fall asleep and drive off the road or something, but ultimately made it to Lost Moor intact and fairly early. It's easy to find events when there are lots of medieval people wandering around the sidewalks.
Got into the event, panicked a little at the gate (never been to an event before, what's all this paperwork, oh god there's a lot of people behind me and I don't know what I'm doing but I'm holding them up) but survived, and proceeded to make myself very small against a wall in an attempt to keep out of the way of knights and crowned heads and people carrying tables. I was very scared and feeling very foolish and thinking I might just run away home after all when an extremely kind man (whose name I have forgotten) noticed me carefully not crying and immediately introduced himself. Upon learning it was my first event and I didn't know anyone, he grabbed about five people as they walked by and introduced them, and offered to show me around if I wanted; another man made sure I knew how to find him or any of his household if I needed help, and I ended up trailing in the wake of one of the judges (and a duchess, I believe) for a while until I ran into the ladies from Cum an Iolair, who I'd met the week before at their shire meeting.
Whew. It was a busy day. I spent lots of time staring (probably open-mouthed) at people's garb, at their projects, at how everyone seemed to know pretty much everyone else. The entries were amazing. There was a man who did various styles of Japanese braiding, another who'd carved and painted a beautiful chest, someone had made a pair of shoes that looked as if they'd fallen straight out of the 15th century; one man had set up a Persian tea service, and the corner of the tent it would have been served in. There was a Roman with a picking experiment (various ages of asparagus and beets, pickled and very tasty) and a Viking lady who made the same soup in six pots of different materials to see how the flavor was affected (and it was noticeable). Several women had embroidery projects, there was some narrow weaving (inkle and tablet), another woman had a dyeing experiment on different fibers with different mordants. Some people had clothes, both full outfits and specific garments, and some had illuminations. I spoke to a girl who'd reconstructed a Persian dance off what she could glean from paintings and what she knew of cultural events that would have included dancing, but unfortunately missed her performance.
About halfway through the day, I was making my way along the edge of the exhibition hall when a woman with a crown on her head stopped me to compliment my dress. I thanked her, especially since it was my first attempt, and she and her companion looked at each other with the kind of look that says, "We've found one and we're going to keep her." She introduced herself as Duchess Conna, of Three Rivers (I think. It was a very long day), and she declared that she had to introduce me to some people. I got shown round and spoke to I don't know how many people, and eventually someone commented that she didn't do much garb because she was afraid of sewing machines. I told her I don't much like them either, and anyway I don't have one, so it was a moot issue with this dress since I'd sewn it by hand. The whole circle of people (half of them crowned heads) stared at me. I didn't know that was such an uncommon thing, but Her Grace showed me off to even more people after that, and made sure to point out my seams and mention that I'd done them by hand. I was incandescent, I blushed so much.
And then, Court, which was lovely and many people were recognized for their fine contributions to the kingdom (including the woman with the soup experiment and the man with the brilliant shoes and the man with the painted chest. Not that his chest was painted...ah, if you've read this far you know what that's about) and suddenly the Queen called for all the newcomers to come up. There was a susurrus across the hall as all the newcomers whispered frantically, "What do I do?!" and all their neighbors said something like, "Go up, bow, kneel before Their Majesties, it'll be fine." And up we went, and we eyed each other to see if anyone had any idea what we, of all people, were doing before the throne, and the Queen greeted us all and gave us each a mug to bring to future events. And she complimented my veil, at which point I lost the power of speech, but luckily not the ability to walk, so I did not embarrass myself on the way back to my place.
All in all, it was an incredible day and a marvelous first event, and when I got up to Mag Mor I had one of my friends help me unlace (note: the fact that I did not know how to get out of my dress was amusing to a great many people, and led to many warnings about not telling the boys that. Too bad there weren't any girls interested in helping...) and was put to bed, as I'd been awake for a solid 40 hours at that point.
This sounds like so much fun. Sadly, because of health issues, I'm not able to join any re-enactment groups, (although any I could conceivably get to seem to be fourteenth century or Tudor, and I write twelfth century, so my clothes would be completely wrong) but I do get to dress up at book signings and talks.
ReplyDeleteNot being a re-enactor means I can get away with garments that just appear to be authentic but are machined, since no one is likely to get close enough to inspect me, haha. It does save a little money.
I greatly admire the fact that you make your own garments the traditional way and look forward to reading more of your articles.
Thank you! I really enjoy the sewing, but machining is much faster. Lots of folks in the SCA machine-sew their garb, too—it all comes down to what you want to devote your time to. I'm a stitch witch. :) And dressing up for any reason is so much fun!
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