‘Hatter!’ ‘Cheshire!’ I open my arms to embrace the stranger that comes smiling towards me, like only a purple cat can. We hug as if we were old friends. This is not unusual at Oz-Comic-Con, Sydney, where over three thousand cosplayers gather for a weekend of creativity, geekgasm, and general madness. The costumes vary in quality from op-shop potpourri to skilled craftsmanship. It is Wonderland for the eye and I am mad as a hatter into it.
Comic-Con is beyond your second wildest imagination, to the right and then straight on till morning. Impossible things will happen here before breakfast (OK, second breakfast): Kaonashi (Spirited Away) is asking you for a cup of tea whilst offering you a prop-swap of his cake. Walking behind you is a large man dressed as Disney princess Belle – He is fabulous and a regular attendee. Australian Dead Pool is rocking Ugg-boots and will whip out his boomerangs for photos. He is also very impressed that you have a carabiner to hold your tea cup (we may be mad, but we’re also resourceful). The whole Mario family is having a picnic surrounded by food trucks serving hot chips, coffee, and waffles to melting lycra-clad superheroes and Fembots. What’s not to love!
The smell of rubber, latex, body paint, sweat, cotton candy, popcorn and burnt coffee make sudden bursts into the convention hall. Everything has a sort of red dreamlike haze halo around it – oh wait, no, those are my contact lenses.
The White Witch from Narnia is overjoyed to be recognised and not mistaken for the icy sister in Frozen (what a noob mistake, I would never). This is what you do at Comic-Con, you see a character you like, you talk to them, you have things in common because you love the same character and momentary friendships exude. There is something about putting on a costume and becoming a character that knocks down walls that stop people from interacting with each other. Watch out for Freddie Krueger (A Nightmare on Elm Street) because he will take advantage of this and pierce the perimeter of personal space surrounding your face.
We meet two girls on the train who has travelled from Orange, on a coach, with two suitcases filled with their costumes. A middle-aged man called David tells me he spent 25 years crafting his original Samurai costume. His armour is modelled from original Japanese printing plates with exquisite symbols telling a story of death and resurrection all along his sleeves. The sight on his weapon is partly constructed from a Japanese paintbrush that he has added a glass eyeball to. I am impressed and humbled that he was the one approaching me for a photo. We shake hands and part ways and will never recognise each other again.
There are props galore. The sword and knife collections are surprisingly affordable – if you are into short daggers and blunt army knives that is (lucky you). However if you have your eyes set on swords like; Andúril, Glamdring, Sting or Rhindon you better come with loaded pockets. The budget option is to gawk until another stormtrooper pushes you out of the way and you realise that 20min is probably enough gawking (is it though?).
I search all day for the Red Queen but she is nowhere to be found. If she was here I’m sure I would hear someone yell “OFF WITH THEIR HEADS” at the Disney villain costume competition but no luck. Alas, if you ask nicely, Darth Revan (Star Wars) will threaten to slice your head off with his light-sabre in front of a TIE fighter, completing a day full of eccentric impressions and eclectic new friends. We are all mad here.
Linda Edorsson is a Communications student at Avondale University College . She loves a quirky story and looking for the weird and wonderful in the world. She believes that any costume can almost always be made using op-shop finds, hot glue guns, paint and twine.