I love costuming in the SCA. It is a creative outlet that brings me into contact with other curious people who have the same interests. Resources are shared. Techniques are learned and lots of fancy clothing is worn to great acclaim. Nothing tops being able to create a garment with modern materials and have somebody tell you that you looked like you came straight from a portrait.
My problem is that my husband is not interested in any of this.
After living with me for over a decade, my constant book-reading, picture-browsing and commenting on “historic” movies has rubbed off on him. He knows a thing or two about what historic costumes should look like. When we walk through the food court at Pennsic, he can discretely nod in someone’s direction and say to me in an undertone, “She’s wearing an English hat with an Italian dress, isn’t she?” to which I nod and say, “Yup.” Those little moments make me so proud. He understands! He cares!
But it quickly goes south when I ask him what he wants to wear for garb. To wit, this morning’s conversation.
Me: “Coronation’s going to be Viking-themed. I have to make you a Viking outfit. What colors do you want?”
Him: “Chroma key green.”
Me: “Vikings didn’t have chroma key green.”
Him: “You asked me what color I want. I want chroma key green. I think it will be hysterical.”
Me: “How about oatmeal?”
Him: “If I don’t get to decide what color I get to wear, why did you ask me in the first place?”
Me: “Fine. Just don’t tell anybody that you’re married to me.”
Him: “Oh, I’m going to tell everyone. I’m going to put a sign on my back that says, ‘Made by Amie Sparow.’”
Me: “Why do you hate me?”
Him: “You take this stuff too seriously.”
Me: <Sigh.> “Don’t you understand that what you’re asking for isn’t historically accurate in the least?”
Him: “Just because I don’t care, doesn’t mean I don’t understand.”
So if you go to Coronation this Spring and you see a Viking in chroma key green garb, it’s not my husband and I didn’t make his outfit.