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What things have you learned that you never would have learned without the help of faire? We want to know! Mostly because we're just nosy, but hey...send in your opinion anyway! ![]() |
THINGS I LEARNED BY DOING FAIRE This was a recent thread on alt.fairs.renaissance and sparked some really
interesting responses. I think that in my five (almost 6!) years of doing
faire, I've learned enough to fill an entire article. And, I figured that
those of you who don't read AFR would have a chance to respond to this! There are been so many things I've learned! Let's start with men. I have
learned that men in a kilt (which would have been called a skirt by me
in highschool and only worn by those freaky guys who also wore more makeup
than I did) are damn sexy! I have no idea what it is, but plaid, pleats
and knees are enough to make my knees weak. I've also learned that having
my hand kissed can be far more intimate than the deepest of lip-to-lip
kisses, if done properly....or, should I say improperly? I've learned the value of cleavage! One weekend at faire I forgot my
pouch and at the end of the day as I was unloading my haul, I looked around
at the amazed people (mostly men) watching me remove a wad of cash, a
couple pens, a set of car keys, a lighter, and an assortment of other
goodies from my cleavage. I was then awarded the "wow...how did she
fit all that in THERE" award. I've also learned the proper way to
heft ones "endowments" in such a way that no matter what, they
won't pop out. It helps to have plenty to spare ;) Oh! And I've also learned
that there is such a thing as permanent sunburn...and that bodice tans
can still be around in January if you play your cards right. And, a wench
can get just about anything she wants my flaunting what she has in just
the right way. I guess another thing that I learned was that I could drink
a shot from a shotglass in my cleavage...without using my hands. I've learned the hard way not to carry my dagger on the back of my belt
because it gives filthy men another reason to try to touch my ass. And
that beer tastes good at a festival...even if it tastes horrible at home.
And it tastes even better if it's purchased by a man in a kilt. No matter how muddy your calves get from walking around in freezing cold
mud all day, you can always wash it off in the sink of a gas station after
hours. Just make sure it's a gas station you never plan to return to because
they WILL remember you. Everyone who has ever met my boyfriend remembers every minute detail
of their encounter with him...he's an extremely memorable guy. And even
if you meet 1000 patrons per day, you better try and come up with a way
to remember them...or at least fake it...because they expect you to. Men
love to be publicly humiliated and women love it when a group of people
in funny clothes see her walking with her newly-purchased rose by the
guy we just publicly humiliated to get her the rose stop and all yell
at once "She is loved!" Fabulous hair and a smile on your face is a must...even if your world
is currently falling apart around you and you can only see one patron
in the entire festival...that one patron is counting on you to help them
have a good time. Never break character because it's damn hard
to get back into it, but remember that when after-hours comes, you won't
be able to drop character...the accent won't want to go away. Be prepared
for about a week or two to pass after festival before you're able to talk
normally again. And no matter what, you will come to love the sound of bagpipes...especially
in the mornings. Rootbeer can become addictive and I can't stand turkey
legs for several reasons. When someone tells you to get a bra (which really
upsets you), they won't remember it a year later, even though it's the
first thing that pops into your head everytime you see them...and it likely
means that they got caught staring at your chest. But the thing that still flabbergasts me everytime is that there are people out there who diligently browse this web site that we've put together...and when I go to faires - even faires I'm not a regular at - there will be at least one person who yells out "Willa!" and is excited to "actually meet" me. I'm not really a wench...I just play one every chance I can get. *wink* |
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