Uh-oh: Lately it's been more difficult to repress a passion for costuming that dates back to my teens. And the fact that it's Halloween weekend doesn't help. Thus it was that I found myself gratuitously volunteering pointers for the next incarnation of a co-worker's feudal Japanese garb (which didn't need that many, by the bye).
Worse than turning one an insufferable bore/boor, there's a point where a passion for any niche of esoterica crosses over into snobbery. Sadly, my mail's been delivered to the "snobbery" zip code for many, many years. Mere still photos from "historical" fare like The Tudors series make me want to curl up in the fetal position and whimper. Worse, when something like the Patrick Bergin / Uma Thurman cover of Robin Hood actually puts some effort into it, I tend to lose track of the plot because I'm too busy freaking out over the fact that nobody's cheesing it out in green tights.
Yet, I don't imagine that such nerdery is unique to costuming. Case in point: Three friends and I were hanging out, watching Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade. Friend #1 used to collect WWII memorabilia--to the point where he schooled a History prof. by bringing in an Afrikacorps uniform to settle a debate. Friend #2 was your basic SCA jock back then...now he's Baron Basic SCA Jock, thank you very much. And Friend #3 was a pocket-protector-wearing engineer. Commentary on the movie included the following critiques:
Me: That is *not* a 12th century script!
WWII Memorabilia Collector: They got the insignia on his uniform all wrong!
Basic SCA Jock: Do you know how much that sword would be worth today?
Pocket-protector-wearing Engineer: Look--there's a hex. nut in the bottom of The Holy Grail!
I rest my case.
