The Matrix of Recreation

I've spent much of the past few months ruminating about how I can improve the ways I combine my research into the projects I create. It's all well and good to be able to make a thing because I have the skills and technical knowledge, but if I'm making things without genuinely good research, I find that later on down the road, I regret the item or I feel salty that I didn't do as much research legwork as I should have.

When we're talking about medieval recreation, there's an understanding that the picture we can paint is never going to be fully accurate or correct. All we can do is aim for our "best reasonable guess" based on credible research efforts. We have to do the best we can with what we have access to. Sometimes what we have access to is incomplete or hard to interpret. Sometimes we really don't know what we're looking at. Sometimes we're working off incorrect assumptions. This is all part of the hobby, and we must accept that we never really know for sure.

We can, however, follow very basic guidelines in our efforts to research and recreate with as much accuracy as possible. We can make sure we're looking at period sources, that those sources are relevant to the place and time we're interested in, and that we understand how to interpret the stylistic choices from that time. Once we have these research habits under our belt, we can get to the heart of why we research to begin with- finding what's likely correct in order to recreate it. Which is when we can use something like my Matrix of Recreation.



The four quadrants of the Matrix define the relative suitability of recreation. This vetting process allows us to determine if the item/process/technique we’re looking at is potentially worth the time, resources & effort to recreate and add to our portrayal.

The Matrix is based on relative ratios between how many sources there are in the period and place we're looking and how many instances we find of the thing we're looking for. For earlier periods, the numbers involved in "low" and "high" are lower as a whole than those of later periods. This could also be true when looking at specific topics. There are more instances of fashion than there are of herbology, for example. So the low and high scale adjusts to these. You chose the numbers you'll assign to them based on what you're researching.

The horizontal axis of the Matrix looks at the body of sources we’ve collected to look for the thing we’re researching, i.e. primary sources. These include visual, written, and extant items from the period and place, such as manuscript contents, structures, paintings, and archeological evidence. While in a perfect world, this would be ALL sources in existence, we know that’s impossible, especially for the layman hobbyist. So we scale this down to what’s most relevant, useful, AND accessible for our purposes. We don’t need to bend over backward to find 40 manuscripts in the rare books department of the local medieval library when 10 reasonably complete, high-res manuscript facsimiles available on the internet will probably do.

The vertical axis of the Matrix looks at the total number of instances we can find inside our collection of sources of what we’re looking for. Crucial to this is our ability to understand what we’re looking for and at, and to be able to interpret the literal and visual languages in use. An understanding of art history, basic manuscript studies, and some idea of how to see like an archeologist are bedrock skills we need to learn as historical recreators. Once we can be more certain that we’re seeing the evidence well, we can count up the instances we find.

Let's look at each quadrant in turn.

Likely: High # of Sources & High # of Instances

When we can collect a large body of sources and find high quantities of the item within those sources, then we're looking at those items that are most likely accurate and useful to recreate. These are the things that feel the most medieval to us because they are easily visible in the historical record. What we must keep an eye on, however, is how these items shift within the Matrix when we take a deeper look. For example, we know that the close-fitting garment we call a kirtle or cote is a likely item in use during the Late Middle Ages, but how it's created and what details it has must be vetted independently. Buttons on the forearms are likely, but embroidery around the neckline may fall elsewhere in the Matrix.

Exception: High # of Sources & Low # of Instances

When we only find a few examples of something within a large body of sources, we're looking at what can be considered either an exception to the rule or potentially a symbolic or fantastical item. We have to be careful that when we chose to recreate things in this category we're clear that they are exceptions. We also have to challenge ourselves not to get into the habit of justifying these exceptions and allow them to dominate our kits and portrayals. A recreation of the exceptions to the rules just compounds upon itself, taking that recreation further and further away from what might be more "normal" or accurate for our period and place. Remember that the typical medieval person across most of the period valued belonging and inclusion with their community over being cast out as different or unique. (For more on this, I recommend The Time Traveler's Guide to Medieval England by Ian Mortimer.)

 

Caution: Low # of Sources & High # of Instances

When the pool of sources shrinks, but within that smaller pool we can find many examples of the item, we can consider these likely but with caution. Similar to a scientific research study, smaller numbers of data sets to review produce less reliable conclusions. There are a number of things that may be going on within this quadrant. The item/technique, etc. may be likely, or it may be a regional thing that only works for certain areas. It may be a stylistic thing or a side effect of the way medieval people kept or recorded the item. Bread, for example, is clearly an item that was used and prevalent in the medieval period but recorded bread recipes are hard to find. So we can make a judgment call here, and be willing to update our item if and when more sources become available to add to our research.

 

Anomaly: Low # of Sources & Low # of Instances

In the final quadrant, we come to those items that 9 times out of 10 we'll want to pass on recreating. These are items that show up rarely in a small pool of sources. In essence, there's little to go in here. For the most part, these things are novelties that may add flavor or interest to our knowledge set, but if our goal is to present as accurately as possible a typical portrayal, these things begin to muddy the water. We may be looking at a one-off choice made by an artist or craftsman due to any number of unknowable factors. We may be looking at someone's idea of a joke. We may be looking at something that we simply can't interpret correctly because we are out of time and context from the original intent. There are times when the anomalies can be the focus of our research to add to our knowledgebase (that 1 out of the 10 times), so the Matrix doesn't discount the usefulness of these items altogether. We simply must acknowledge that what we're looking at here is less likely to be widely accurate.

Sources should be Relevant, Useful & Available

For either end of the Sources scale, remember that we're dealing in relative terms based on the number of relevant, useful, and available sources, and it's up to us to determine the perimeters of that for any individual item we're vetting. We can decide that in order to understand how accurate one item is, we have to limit our sources a bit differently than we might with another item. The example I can give here is that when I went looking for data to write my essay on Early 15th Century Women's Clothing, instead of choosing all early 15th century manuscripts as sources, I outlined a set of specific criteria that limited the sources I would refer to down to what I felt was the most useful and relevant. Number one on the list, of course, was that in order to be considered a source, the manuscript had to contain depictions of women.

How you determine your sources is always going to be dependent on what you're researching and how specific you need to be. If you want to look for "furniture", you're going to look at a larger number of sources than if you were looking for "trestle tables". You're going to limit your sources down to only those that may be likely to show tables.

You have to be careful here, though. When you limit your sources too much, you begin skewing the matrix toward also limiting instances. We can discount viable instances simply because we've put too strict of a boundary around our sources. Therefore, the perimeters of what we use as a source should always seek to include all the relevant and useful instances for the specific thing we're looking for. It's a balancing act.

 

Anomaly, Exception, or Just Plain Wrong?

I think we also need to look a bit closer at the bottom portion of the Matrix- those areas where the number of instances are low. These are the areas where we're treading close to the line between what is and isn't accurate to portray, but also those areas when sources simply aren't available or useful. There are several portions of historical recreation where the data is lacking. If you study a culture that isn't well documented, you'll consistently encounter Anomalies and mostly nothing else when using the Matrix. In these cases, my suggestion is to ditch the Matrix and beware of dragons. You're in uncharted territory.

If, however, you're researching something that is inside the more studied areas of history, the Matrix is useful to help understand if you're starting to go a bit off course. Especially in later periods, when finding sources is less difficult, we might be inclined to believe that we're not encountering Anomalies in our research, but finding a bunch of Exceptions instead. If our source count is always relatively high, the answer is to adjust the focus to make sure that we're not looking at more sources than we need to. This brings the source count down, shifting the scale toward the lower end. So now, when we find an item in this new source pool that shows up one time only we can be fairly certain we're looking at an Anomaly.

The other item that exists down around here as well are those items that are just wrong. Wrong because they are not historical, or wrong because inside the boundaries of our source limitations, they just don't exist. These things don't fall on the Matrix of Recreation because they should not be recreated. I want to point out that this also applies to items that may exist under a different source pool or a different set of criteria, but that for what you're trying to accomplish they don't show up. Let's say you're looking to see if women wore an item worn by men. Your sources should include all sources likely to show that clothing item. The instances you'll look for will be women wearing that item. It doesn't matter how many sources you're using, if instances don't exist, the most likely conclusion is that women didn't wear that item.

Inherently Ahistorical Situations

Layered on top of any process we use to vet the potential accuracy of what we recreate is the nature, goals, and standards of the communities within which we're recreating. While living history groups generally hold authenticity and accurate portrayal as a cornerstone of their organization, there are other groups for whom that is less strict. The SCA, for example, has room for authentic recreation but does not hold it as a core principle. In these types of situations (and here I'll mainly speak through my SCA experience), we will encounter a whole separate layer that we'll call "Community Material Culture". These are the things that have developed in a historic recreation community that belong exclusively to that community and are an integral part of it. In the SCA, that includes the ways in which peers can be visually recognized, items with years of use and history passed from one person to another, and the deep and extensive use of personal heraldry. When we want to be a part of this group, we also must allow room for the group's material culture to enter and exist in our kits and portrayal.

In these situations, if authenticity and accuracy are our goals (which, I would hope is at least partially the case for the majority of people interesting in portraying medieval life), then before we turn to the Matrix of Recreation, we should identify if the item in question is one of these Community Material Culture items. If so, we then must ask a single question: Can I create this item in a manner consistent with my period and place?



If the answer is Yes, you can utilize the Matrix to find the most likely accurate method of creating the item, or to at least understand if it's more exceptional than likely.

If the answer is No, you have two options. You can skip the item altogether and explain to anyone who asks that it's not correct for your portrayal, and that authenticity is important to you. Or you can create the item anyway with the understanding and acknowledgment that it's not accurate for your portrayal but that its purpose in the community is important to you.

 

Caveat Emptor

The Matrix of Recreation isn't meant to be a strict guideline. There are simply too many variables, too many topics, and too many exceptions across the board for it to fit all circumstances of historical recreation. It will break down under certain perimeters, and since you must use your best judgment and set your own relative scales, you can always bend it a bit to your will and justify your choices no matter what if you really wanted to. I hope you don't, though. I think it works its best as a gut-check. A quick way to understand if you're on the right track and headed in the right direction.  

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I'm a big proponent of self-evaluation, and since I developed this Matrix out of a sense that I, myself was veering off course, I feel like a great way to close this out is to offer examples from my own kit for each of the four quadrants. These are projects that I have created and/or designed that I'm now going to review in retrospect in terms of where they fall in the Matrix of Recreation.

Likely: Open Hoods

Long-time readers will not be shocked to see the open hood as my pick in the Likely category. We can find examples of open hoods throughout the entirety of the Late Middle Ages in the Franco-Flemish region. There's still a lot of nuances to their styles and usages through that period (a 1460 open hood is wildly different from a 1350 open hood), but there are many sources we can use and many instances within those sources, making the open hood a likely accurate item in my wardrobe. Of all the open hoods I've created over the years, I feel that my light pink hood, though perhaps a bit too pale in color, is the best, with the correct weight, shape, scale, and liripipe length.

Caution: Buckled Turnshoes

As a Late Medieval recreator, I find that the Caution category is quite rare (within the things I'm researching). There are so many useable and accessible sources that it's unusual I come across something that falls under the low source/high instance quadrant. One item of mine that does seem to fall here, however, is shoes.

Undoubtedly, women wore shoes, but the style of the shoe they wore is where caution comes into play. When we condense all the sources available for women's shoes specifically, we're not left with much, especially compared to the sources for men's shoes and for women's clothing. Women's footwear was often left out of depictions because it was concealed, and we have very few ways of determining what extant shoes or shoe pieces belonged to female feet.

That said, when the chance for a shoe to show up on a women's foot is present, there's a shoe to be seen. When I reviewed the shoes depicted in my collection of women's manuscript depictions, I discovered that black shoes that covered most of the forward top portion of the foot with a very slight point were those most often painted on the women in my class range. Beyond that, however, I had to turn to non-gendered shoe pieces in the extant record to determine anything more. I ultimately opted to design a shoe that covered the majority of my foot with a buckled strap to keep it tight. This is a best guess with a healthy dose of personal preference, that I feel is what we can call cautiously possible in terms of authenticity.

 

Exception: Woman's Belt Pouch

Recreators like bags and pouches because our hobby tends to make us mobile, and without pockets, bags are the next best thing. Which holds true for medieval people as well. Pouches themselves are not exceptions and there are hundreds of examples in my period (high number of sources). Filtering for women's use of pouches, however, the number dwindles to a low amount. I took the time to locate every instance of a belt pouch I could find in my manuscript depictions of women research, and there were a total of 14. So while it's not incorrect to have a belt pouch, and I made every attempt to create a pouch in line with the style of those I found, wearing that pouch is an exception to the rule, and should be done in moderation.

Anomaly: Square Hood (worn on a woman)

Anomalies can be hard to accept, especially after we've created the item. Most of my choices in recent years have steered me away from this quadrant, but that is not always the case. The square hood, or hunting hood, is a specific style of hood with straps under the arms, rather than the more traditionally-seen cowl draped over the shoulders. There aren't a great number of examples of the square hood to begin with. In my original research I primarily found depictions of the square hood on men, but there was one effigy of a woman with a hood that looked similar. This, along with my own (probably vain) desires to be cool and have one of these hoods led me to make one. I have used it quite often since, and it's a favorite piece of mine. However, I have to admit that with only one source pointing toward the possible use of this hood by a woman, it's an anomaly that creates a less accurate (even if cool) portrayal.

I hope the Matrix of Recreation helps you steer the course as you build your kit and persona. Remember that we're all learning as we go, so give yourself margin to have Anomalies and Exceptions, to navigate Cautions, and of course to celebrate your Likelies.

[Please feel free to share the Matrix, but be sure to include the link back to this post so the explanation can also be read!]

Celebrating My Current Favorites

It’s easy to spend a lot of time thinking about the things we would like to have, or the things we want to make. It’s kind of a status symbol these days in historical recreation when we can brag about a huge project list, and we like to compare wishlists with others. I’ve certainly done my fair share of that. It seems like we’re constantly asking the question: What’s the next thing that I’m going to spend my time, energy and money on?

Early 15th Century Women's Style Book

“The Book of the Queen”, 1410-1414AD, BL MS Harley 4431, fol. 123v

Six or so years ago, I started to get frustrated by my limited knowledge of women's fashion in the era I had chosen to recreate- Flanders in the early 15th century. Like many people new to the realm of historical clothing research, up to that point, I had been mostly relying on singular images presented out of context, or the occasional famous manuscript to try to give me a picture of what I should be wearing. The problem with this method, though, is that it doesn't provide overall guidelines to what clothing options were available to women beyond what existed in those single, disconnected examples. Much like with extant materials- you can't form a better picture of the forest if you've only got a small number of individual trees to look at.

How to Invest in Your Medieval Recreation When You're Broke

This post was cathartic to write, but I didn't originally think I'd share it. I decided to go ahead and post it because I know I'm not the only one who finds themselves in this boat. If you're struggling to know what to do when finances are tight, I hope this post helps you the way writing it has helped me.

Source

Earlier in the year, my family had an unexpected financial emergency, so extra money to put toward events and SCA projects has been and will be mostly non-existent until next year. Not having funds for my hobby brings into focus the reality that improving my kit, checking boxes on my wishlist, and attending some events costs more the deeper into this hobby I go. A new, better, larger tent will be more expensive than the used little one with some issues. A pair of custom-made turnshoes in the exact period style you do will be more than the mass-produced generic pair you can pick up at any given War. It's easier to make it to the more local, cheaper day events than to shell out the extra for gas, food, and camping at larger events that are further away. So when money is tight, it can feel an awful lot like the ability to keep improving has stalled out.

The Conflict of Deadlines

There are very few occasions when my projects have hard deadlines. These usually come up when I've made promises to others, and a deadline is necessary for their sake. In general, though, I set deadlines to put some pressure on myself to complete my projects. If I have in my head that I want to wear the thing I'm making by a certain event, it helps me feel excited for both the garment and the event.

Until this green wool dress came along. 

So You Want to Improve in Your Craft?

Ten years ago, I didn't really know how to sew. I also didn't know much more than the basics about late medieval clothing. When I look back, it's actually pretty shocking to have learned so much in a mere decade, but I can also see that it wasn't by accident. Everyone's journey in their craft is different, and it's important to understand and accept that not every road leads to somewhere exciting, but improving in your chosen art or craft comes with some pretty important standard procedures. Today I'd like to do my best to walk through the ones that help me.

Self-Esteem and Other Such Nonsense

I didn't start this blog with the intention of appearing so often within it. I was content for most of the first years of writing to appear here and there. It wasn't initially all that important to me to even include pictures. Eventually, I began to realize that the best way to share what I was accomplishing was to make sure I got photos of my finished work. Appearing in my garb started to be a key component of how I shared my progress. Only I was horrible in front of the camera.

My first fitted dress. I use that term loosely. So did the dress.

Much of the timidness I experienced was directly related to my size. I've been plus sized my entire adult life, but social conditioning told me that wasn't acceptable, and I felt embarrassed to put photos of myself in my garb out there. How could anybody find a fat girl who doesn't exactly know how to sew in the first place at all inspiring?

The camera angle highlights everything wrong with this dress.
To be fair, this was our first "photo shoot".

I kept at it, though, and started to take post-project photo shoots seriously. Not because I was trying to break through any body image barrier, but because what I was trying to accomplish with this blog required it. If I was going to make an impact with my readers, and keep people interested in what I had to say, I couldn't leave them hanging with no visual record of what I had been talking about, and no context for its success or failure.

One sack of potatoes, comin' right up!

After a while, taking a bit of time after completing a piece to take photos became a part of the process. I've never put on my garb, handed my husband my camera, and said "screw negative body image, I'm perfect!". In fact, my husband can attest that when I'm dressed and ready for the photos to start, I always ask "Does this look okay?" But I stopped letting that insecurity be a barrier to me sharing all the hard work I put into doing better, and walking the long road toward mastery of a craft I most certainly do not have a natural talent for.

As bad of a picture as this is in general, I do enjoy when a
genuine and hearty laugh gets caught on camera.

What I share with you here on the blog is curated. When we finish a photo session, my camera roll has 50+ new photos. We get silly. Something weird is going on behind me. My husband always does one of those stupid "Batman villain" angled shots. Mostly, I'm talking or adjusting, or squinting because I'm not wearing my glasses. Occasionally, I'm talking to a child just out of the shot. Then I spend about an hour reviewing each photo, laughing at the funny fails, and pulling out the photos I want to share.

Oh yeah. Here's the money shot.

Here's the thing, though. I don't weed out photos simply because I look bad in them. I pull them out because, at a certain point, I decided that I wanted this blog to be a source of inspiration for what's possible regardless of your size. It's incredibly important to me that plus-sized costumers who find my blog leave it feeling a little more confident in their own potential, even if only a little. In order for that to work, I include in my "project logs" images that show the garment in the best light. I want you, my readers, to see the outfit and go "that's pretty nice." Excluding less-than-pretty photos has less to do with my personal level of self-esteem, and more to do with marketing. In other words, it's part of my job to visually sell you guys on the idea of the piece in the hopes that you too will give it a try.

Photos like this are why I tell my husband to tell me to just
stop talking when we're doing this.

The fact of the matter is that, in this hobby, we all look ridiculous. It's rather silly, isn't it? It's lovely and awesome and the coolest thing ever, but it's a little weird. It's clothing, but it's costume. Garb tells a story, and builds our collective culture. Some people care about it a whole heck of a lot, other folks would be just as good without the whole garb thing. But I guarantee you that you've done your fair share of "well that looks...interesting". We've all seen people wearing something we wish they hadn't attempted. Even people who look absolutely fabulous in their garb look positively looney when you consider what it is that they probably wear to work, or to the grocery store, or walking the dog.

Now here's a lady you don't want to meet in a dark alley.

The bottom line is that we're all trying the best we can. If I don't look perfect in my clothing, that's all well and good, because at least I tried, and I'm learning in the process. I self-criticize like the best of them, and those failed photos that are particularly unattractive undoubtedly give my confidence a hit. But way more than that, I'm having fun. And I hope you're having fun too. I hope what I share with you here helps to make you happy to be a part of this silly hobby, and to know that you aren't going it alone, no matter your talent, size, or situation.

"Did we get a good one yet? No? You have got to be kidding me."

BTW, I'll be at Pennsic next week, so I won't have a post on Sunday. I plan to do another round of #whatedythwore over on Facebook, though, so make sure you're following me if you want to keep up with that. As always, if you spot me, please stop me and say "Hi". It means so much to me to know you guys out there really do exist.

Cast a Smaller Net

Lately, I've been very interested in diving further into the study of late medieval garments not just as what they were and how they were worn, but more specifically how they may have changed during their use and how they were employed with other garments to make appropriate outfits for the wearer. In essence, I've found myself much more sensitive to pairing dresses, gowns, hats, and accessories with each other in a manner consistent with their more specific time and place. I'm no longer interested simply in "15th Century Fashion" as a catch-all category for all the various items in use during that time. Instead, I'm finding much more interest in looking a shorter ranges and narrower geography to eliminate the things that don't fit, and to see what really goes with what.

I think this interest in getting more specific is part of the natural progression toward greater authenticity (that each of us takes at our own pace), but it stems more recently for me from something in particular. I know that our modern culture champions the idea of "mix-and-match". We like to have clothing that can be worn in several situations in different configurations. We're kinda done with one-hit wonders, so we choose versatility. This is a thoroughly modern idea, and it's really only been in the past four decades that the consumer experience centers around the concept of buying individual items to swap around with other individual items. In the past, stores offered up outfits or suits as their primary sell. And before that, women wore dresses- one and done. No need to go crazy with the mixin'.

We're modern women. We're creative in our recreations. Some medieval rules are incredibly easy to overlook or ignore when they appear to be limiting to us. We want all the things, after all. So we apply our present-day ideals of versatile fashion on a society of women that did everything by strict, often unwritten social standards to define themselves in time and place. At a time when a woman's non-conformity to the norms of her community could single her out in the worst kinds of ways, I would say that doing things according to a pattern and sticking with socially acceptable (and approved) fashion identities was a really safe bet. Women found other ways to display their unique characters by applying it to trades or skills, or things such as writing or politics. Women were considered beautiful when they conformed to the ideal (however boring or standard it may seem to us), not when they blazed a trail of wild novelty out on their own.
If we are interested in greater accuracy, we need to stop mixing. We need to quit looking at a single century's fashion as if they were a whole. We need to stop choosing things we like from one end of the timeline and wearing it with something from the other end. And before anyone gets offended, know that I say this to myself as much as anyone else. I've been doing it wrong. Lots of us are.

So today, I challenge each of us to start taking a closer look at our sources and really pay attention to them. Remove the outliers. Find the averages, the standards, the norms. Ignore the extant finds until they fall into the category of "typical". What are the contexts? Who are these women we are looking at? What does she symbolize, and is that something we want to symbolize as well? What appears more often than not? Are two things never seen together in the same outfit? Does one detail belong with another detail? Is something worn the same way, in the same context, every single time it's seen? Focus on less, hone in on specifics. Cast a smaller net for a bit, and see what you learn.

It's a rabbit hole that's worth going down.

The Dream Realized

Cross-posted to my other blog, Growing Up Medieval (because it's that important to me.)

Earlier this month, at Harvest Days in Flaming Gryphon (Dayton, OH area), we were having a bad day.

We took all four kids, which isn't something we do very often (I've spoken about this before), and even though we were all on deck, I had a class to teach, and Ulfr, as Regional Archery Marshal, had a huge amount of business to conduct. The boys in particular, just didn't care about rules and boundaries and staying away from the archery range. My daughter, who is only recently potty-trained, had some obsession with going to the bathroom (a long walk from the range) every five minutes. As far as events go, it ranked pretty high up there on the suck scale.

It's hard, in the midst of those types of events, to find the good. Stuck in your own headspace of worrying that things aren't going well, and wondering why you can't gain control, you tend to overlook that there are experiences and moments happening that truly matter. There are conversations that happen that you know mean a tremendous amount, and you wish you could perhaps be a little less distracted for them. You struggle to maintain your composure as you try to make it past a group of people as your child runs circles around you, refusing to listen. When you get help in that moment, it's hard to relate how grateful you are, and how relieved you are that someone recognized your need and wasn't judging your parenting abilities.

It's hard to recognize that good things are happening when you're focused on what's not working.

But, despite everything that was sucking that day, something tremendous happened. Something tremendously good.

In the weeks prior, we'd assembled some new items for my daughter, a kirtle, a 14th century hood, a smocked apron, even a huvet. Her outfit was adorable, and she loved it. She was full of confidence, and for the first time that I could tell, she really seemed to understand that what we were doing was something special and unique; that events weren't just parties, but were an important part of who we were and what we believed in. She wasn't just dressed in pretty, girly clothes. She was part of something. 

When I was teaching my class, my mom took my daughter for a walk. Unlike her brothers, she had been mostly behaving and was borderline cocky as a result. As they walked, she admired the armor of fighters leaving the field, and even told a few as much. Never before had she seemed to notice or care about what was happening on the list fields, but now she appeared to not only care, but to recognize when a person's armor was different or somehow special. She was seeing the event with new eyes.

Then this happened:

Photo by the amazing Marissa Wheatley Williams

This.

This is everything perfect and wonderful and right.

This is happiness and joy and a moment to be treasured, not just for the people involved, but for all of us.

This is The Dream.

On a day when my 4-year-old daughter's eyes started to see the world of our events with more clarity and understanding, the King, just being himself, saw her, just being herself, and created something perfect. And thankfully, Marissa, just being her talented self, caught it.

My daughter didn't walk away from that experience unchanged. Her language changed. She felt new ownership of the event, and a deep understanding of how she fit into it. When I asked her where she'd gotten the bracelet, she said "I got it from my King."

At the next event, Coronation this past weekend, my mother (it was just the two of them that day) witnessed the results of this moment. My daughter took every opportunity to not just see the fighting, but to watch it and attempt to understand it. She was not a bystander, as so many of our youth often become. She was at the event to BE AT THE EVENT. Not because she was carried along, but because it was her event to go to.

She recognized those she'd seen at Harvest Day, and even conversed with a Duke for a 2nd time. Fearless and confident, and joyfully a part of the day. I value whatever wisdom His Grace imparted to my daughter. I hope whatever impression it made on her lasts. I also hope the impression it made on him lasts as well. For it's not enough for these moments to happen and impact just one side. These are moments that shape the young children among us, and direct them to either love the Society or dismiss its importance in their lives. We owe it to ourselves to care about the impressions we leave on those still too young to participate in full.

So because a man took the chance to be a King to a little girl, and because the people around my pre-schooler stopped looking at her as just a child for just a moment, and acknowledged that she too was there to experience the magic of our community, my daughter is today a SCAdian.

My SCAdian daughter the morning of Coronation

Do I have high hopes that my daughter may someday sit on the throne, remembering with clarity the day our crazy garbed adventures finally made sense to her? Of course. But for now it's enough for me to see that she just "gets it"; to see that The Dream is hers to realize too.

Why I Play in the SCA

For the 11th year in a row, I stayed home instead of going to Pennsic. Which is a real bummer, but this year, I think it's actually for the best. Back at the beginning of the year, I experienced one of those (thankfully rare) feelings of disillusionment with the SCA. I had one of those moments when you're really sure about who you are and where you are headed, but when you start to look around, you realized you weren't at all in that place, and you weren't at all that person. It's been, honestly, hard to regain my footing, which has also translated to feeling less interested and less inspired.

It's good, though, really. I think it's nice to step out from under the tent (if you will) to take a look around at what else there is to do. The Society has offered me hobbies I never dreamed I'd be capable of doing, and I love that, but looking in a different direction has reminded me that I'm a creative individual in the mundane world as well. I've taken on freelance design work that has been much more fulfilling than I imagined it would be. I've discovered pocket-style scrap booking, and I'm obsessively hooked. I've been doing origami, which I've always loved. I'm spending more evenings hanging out with my family instead of sewing. These are all extremely rewarding things that I would be completely missing out on if I was still super-focused on the SCA and my path within it.

Backing off a bit has also provided a valuable opportunity to reassess. Having mostly ditched my project list, and having missed two events in a row that I would have normally attended this summer, I'm pretty much "out of it". Which means that every time I come across a medieval-themed Facebook post or Pinterest pin that really captures my attention and makes me smile, I'm that much closer to seeing and understanding WHY I PLAY in the SCA. If I wasn't still finding these things while on this sabbatical, then I could be pretty certain that the Society holds nothing for me. Thankfully, I haven't found that to be the case. Instead, I see that authentic kits, handmade details, and medieval camping are all really important and interesting to me. It's also helped me to see what makes me not want to play, which has been helpful to analyze.

For years, I have been proud to have award scrolls to display on my wall. In fact, the combined scrolls awarded to the members in my house take up an entire wall. That's pretty cool, and several of the scrolls are absolute works of art. Early on in my mom's SCA career, she joined a household that encouraged advancement through martial and service activities. The theme of advancement became her default, and thus became mine when I started to play regularly. And since it was ours when I met my husband, it eventually, in some ways, became his as well. This was not the "next cookie" type of advancement, however, where you actively seek to gain higher and higher rank by choosing the path of least resistance, regardless of whether you really care for anything or anyone you deal with along the way. No, this concept of advancement is the idea that one's place in the SCA is defined by your rank and the awards you've received. That there are genuine "class" divisions, and your only goal, really, is to advance through them. Inadvertently, by buying into this, I had fooled myself into believing that a majority percentage of my worth in the Society was measured by how many awards I could hang on my wall.

That's not what I'm worth, and it's not how I should be defined (either by others or myself). Neither my worth, my skill, nor my passion can be calculated that way. And, honestly, if I've learned anything in these recent months, it's that those things don't need to be calculated at all.

My kit isn't flawlessly authentic, my skills aren't perfect, my talents aren't vast. I may be days away from an award or years, who knows? But I love this hobby.

I love sharing what I've learned and what I know. I love trying new things, and knowing that, in this hobby, they aren't actually even remotely new. I love pouring over inspiring period imagery and seeing things that completely make sense to me. I love collecting relevant books.

I love listening to medieval music, and the smell of incense and beeswax. I love playing period games with my friends.

I love eating the period food my husband makes over an open fire.

I love the sound of drums at night and the smell of tiki torches burning citronella oil. I love how excited my kids get when they see their new garb.

I love the way our pavilion comes together, and how patient our children are with the process.

I love the sound of the battle field during a melee, and the satisfying "thunk" of an arrow hitting a target.

I love all my hats and headdress, and I wish I had more excuses to wear them.

I love seeing others challenge themselves to make or learn or try something they found a source for. I love handmade things.

I love the way I feel in my garb, and the way my family looks in theirs, and I love knowing that I made them with my own hands.

Those award scrolls are coming down. They don't come close to reflecting anything of what I love, and why I play. Then I'll take a deep breath and assess my project list, not against the goals I had originally set for them, but against my real interest and desire to make and do those things. And I'm willing to bet that my skills, my talents, my abilities will grow exponentially when I stop comparing them against the made-up ruler of the award structure.

I play this hobby because it accepts me for who I am as well as who I want to pretend to be, and it doesn't require me to explain my choices. I play because it challenges me. I play because it's fun, and quirky, and nerdy. I play because I love all those things, I love history, and I love the stories it's given me.

I play because I'm just as much 15th Century Edyth Miller as I am 21st Century Janis Hurst.

Some Advice on Teaching in the SCA

While sewing may or may not be my forte (jury's still out on that, I think), what I spend most of my energy at events on is teaching. After the first few awkward sessions of sharing what I knew to a group of strangers, I've loved the process of developing and teaching classes on the variety of topics I find interesting. In fact, teaching  (and the researching process that goes into being able to teach) is what I typically say I "do" in the SCA. My enthusiasm for teaching, and of course my interest in the topics, drive my teacher personality, and I'm happy to report that I've yet to teach a class that was a dud.

Last week a friend wanted to test out a new class she was assembling, and had asked me to give her some advice and pointers. I listened to her class, and took some notes. Reading back through the notes, I realized that several of the things I'd written down were not necessarily specific to her topic, and could really be great advice to anyone thinking about taking the step from student to teacher at events. In fact many of these pieces of advice are things I've learned along the way, both as a teacher of my own classes and a student in others'.

Trust yourself.
You've decided to teach because you're interested in the topic. That interest, by it's very nature, will do you a huge favor- it will help you retain information and understand your topic better. So as you teach your class, trust that you'll remember what's important, and be confident that you'll be able to answer your students' questions. You do not need everything written down. Outlines or index cards can help you keep your place and order, but don't use your class notes handout to teach with. I think that most folks who try to rely on fully-fleshed out notes to teach their classes are worried that the beautifully salient points they want to make, which sound so good in writing, will get lost if they don't read them. And while this can be true (it's happened to me), there are ways to remember these well-worded statements without reading the entire content of your class. Repetition, for one, is an incredibly powerful tool. Repeat what you want to say often enough, and when the time comes, you'll recall it. Not only that, but you'll speak it with inflection and intention.

Handle jargon/foreign words as smoothly as possible.
There may be times when you've got titles, names or jargon specific to your topic that you really are better off reading. As teachers of medieval topics in particular, we're also constantly faced with foreign languages. When we can't get through a topic without these words, and we have a genuine problem committing them to memory, we tend to do one of two things. We either say them very quickly with no regard for exact pronunciation, or we slow way down and speak the words syllable by painful syllable. In either case, we've sidetracked the moment and potentially lost our students.

If the words can be translated without losing meaning (if using the original language isn't important), rely on the translation. If the words are important to share in their original language, state the word as clearly as you can, tell them what language it is, then translate it. Then use the translation from that point forward in the class. If it needs to be stated correctly, but you can't get the pronunciation from the original spelling, write it phonetically for yourself. So "Tres Riches Heuers du Duc de Berry" might be written "Tray Reesh Uer duh Dook deh Barry". Again, repetition of that pronunciation will greatly help. If you're not sure about how to pronounce something, do some research on the language and make a best guess, or ask someone that may know how they would pronounce it.

Provide contexts.
We all like stories. It's part of our human nature to be drawn into them. When your topic is extremely factual information, sometimes creating stories around that can be difficult. Which, of course, means you'll have a harder time keeping your students interested. So instead of just rattling off your information bullet-point style, try forming contexts for the information. This usually involves side research to get more relevant information, such as events, people or similar factors that your listeners can latch onto as "landmarks" as you take them through the data. In some cases, years or maybe culture names can provide all the context they need to place the information for better absorption.

Tell stories with feeling.
When your topic does provide for stories, be sure to tell them! Be personable, add humor if appropriate, and bring your students into the moment. Don't miss the opportunity by sharing the information in a dry manner.

Determine a level of student knowledge for your class.
The specificity of your topic will dictate a certain level. In general, your classes will fall into beginner, intermediate and advanced categories. If we try to teach at all three levels in the hour we've got, we're either not going to get through it, or we're going to find ourselves way off track. We're also creating a situation in which we, as the teacher, may rapidly lose control. I had an experience early on in my teaching "career" of having a well-meaning student sidetrack my class because I'd allowed the class to be pulled into a higher knowledge level than what I personally had at the time. Before I knew it, ten minutes had gone by and my topic had been usurped. If I'd established with myself ahead of time what level of knowledge I was going to teach to, I would not have left that door wide open. After that, I began creating every new class by writing an objective for it. By having a "destination" in mind, I could determine at which knowledge level I was interested in teaching for that class, and I could be better able to maintain control of the class because I knew what I wanted to accomplish by the time I was done. Help your students understand what level to expect with class titles and descriptions that clue them in. If someone with a large amount of knowledge attends your "Beginning Sprang" class, they'll be less likely to take over, since you've made it clear who your intended audience is.

Plan for technical issues.
In most cases, your SCA class won't be taught somewhere with the best audio/visual resources. Even if it does, try not to rely on the available technology to teach, or at the very least, have a backup plan in case the technological assets don't work correctly. I speak from embarrassed experience here.

Embrace the phrase "I don't know".
The best teachers I have had the pleasure to be student to know that "I don't know" isn't a curse of death. In fact, in my own experiences, when I've found myself saying those three words, it gives me a great opportunity to go back and do more research. Also, don't forget that, while you might not know that specific thing, there may be related things you do know. "I'm not sure about X, but I do know Y, so maybe Z is likely, but I'd have to do more research." It doesn't have to be as formulaic as that, but the point is to try not to leave the question completely unanswered.

There are many more things I can share about teaching, but I think these points are the most relevant to share here. Different types of classes (lecture, demonstration, hands-on, etc.) have their own sets of lessons for teachers to learn, as do different topics themselves. I hope, though, that if you're just starting out as a casual SCAdian teacher, you find these tips useful.

Properly Assessing Your Work

Today, I'd like to talk about something we tend to gloss over as sewists- properly assessing the work we do.

There's a huge difference between the words "critique" and "criticize". When you criticize your work, you're unfairly comparing it to some level of perfection you've assumed you are capable of at that moment. Nobody is perfect, and even those people that seem to have all the right skills to produce amazing garb have areas they wish they could improve upon. Judging yourself against a standard of perfection is begging for hurt feelings (which you can most definitely do to yourself.) Criticizing your work sounds like, "That eyelet is horrible and ugly, and no one with any talent at all would produce an eyelet like that." Now that might sound like an over-exaggerated statement, but for those struggling with craftsmanship, it's probably not that far off base from some of the things we've said to ourselves. For me, a typical criticism is, "You look like an idiot." And that's a mean thing to say to myself.

When we critique our work properly, however, we remove judgement from the equation. Let's say our eyelets don't look that great. Instead of insulting ourselves in our evaluation, a proper critique is to assess what may have gone wrong, and brainstorm what may have worked better. "This eyelet is a bit wonky. I think I pulled the thread tighter on these few stitches than on the others. I should probably pay more attention to my tension as I stitch." The difference is obvious. In our non-emotional, non-self-depreciating, constructive critique, we've not only made ourselves more aware of an issue, we've provided a goal to achieve the next time around.

There is nothing wrong with looking at every item you create and noting the "things you would change". In some cases, doing that can be a huge advantage to the learning process. You're essentially saying, "There's still something for me to learn here," in a polite and goal-oriented manner. No insult, no hurt feelings, no judgement. The trick is to do it without adding comparisons into the mix. When we begin to assess our work according to what others are creating, especially when those others are beyond our skill stage, we start grading our work on the wrong scale.

If you must compare your work, there are two appropriate areas of comparison I can suggest. One is to compare your current work to your past work. It's a satisfying feeling to see your progress, and I believe there's very little that is as encouraging than to see for yourself what you've learned by looking at what you didn't know how to do in the past. The second is to compare your work to the scale of progress that leads to your goal- NOT the goal itself. This is very tricky. You need to determine what progress milestones you want to hit, then you need to be realistic with your expectations. For historical costumers, your goal is probably to be as authentic as possible for your period of choice. Your progress scale, then, is to progressively add more authentic techniques, materials and style choices to your work as you learn how to do them/work with them/understand them. Working toward recreating extant pieces, and breaking that goal into its parts is a great way to accomplish that. Just make sure to give yourself time to learn.

Finally, remember that being technically good at your craft is only part of the equation. Be sure to critique your acquired knowledge as well. If you can do a technique with your eyes closed, make sure to assess why you do that technique, and what bearing it has on your goal. In that way, you allow yourself to not only become a better sewist, but to become an expert sewist in time!

So tell me, what part of properly assessing your work do you struggle with the most?

Fabric Sources

I realized after my last post that I had forgotten to mention where I'd gotten all that fabric from.  I'll be posting about my new dress ideas later this evening, as promised, but let's take a slight detour in the meantime so I can share this information with you.

All the linen was ordered from my linen supplier of choice- fabrics-store.com. They have a very wide selection of colors and weights, all at some of the lowest prices for linen you might ever find. They also have regular sales which you can be notified of if you sign up for their emails. All linen I ordered was their medium weight, 5.3 oz., which they have the most colors of.  It's good for most purposes, depending on the color and its respective transparency.

Most of the wool, the three twills, are from Class Act Fabrics. I haven't  received them yet, but I requested swatches of each, and I'm very excited about them! Linda at Class Act is very easy to get a hold of in the evenings or through email, and she worked with me to send the swatches she thought would work the best for what I wanted to create. It was actually very difficult to decide among all the great samples she sent!  She offers a rotating selection of wools, silks and linens, and most of the wools are affordably priced under $20/yrd.

The white wool is coming from Wm. Booth Draper (along with a rosewood needle case.) Wm. Booth caters to 17th-19th century groups, but since linen & wool fabrics then really weren't that much different than they were in the late middle ages, I find their selection an appropriate source. They are well priced on their 100% wools (I would say the average is about $18/yrd).

I definitely recommend ordering swatches of any materials you're interested in before making a commitment. All these suppliers offer free swatches (except that Class Act may charge for expensive, rare swatches). Wools and linens are investments, so it's a good idea to double check what you're getting first so you know if it's worth the cost.

Conducting Research

A year ago, I received the Middle Kingdom's Order of the Silver Oak award which is given for beginner level skill in a science. My science was research- specifically the research I've done into women's period headwear, but I consider research in general to be my interest in the Society. Not too long ago, I sat in at a round table discussion on research at an event, and though it wasn't as lively as I think the moderators hoped it would be, it did raise a question I'd like to answer here. In the process of answering this question, I'd like to share with you my personal research perspective as well.

Q: How do you get to that point when you take all the "on paper" research you've done and turn it into action?

A: While it is true that research usually begins "on paper" or with your face planted in a book or two on the subject, the true value of research is that it brings about a scientific process that, in one way or another, requires experiment. That's why many branches of the SCA consider research to be a science instead of an art. Experiment doesn't always have to be a messy process (though it certainly can be in some cases, such as period cooking). Experiment in this case means something a bit more cerebral- finding a hypothesis and proving or negating it.

If you've truly been doing research, even just the "on paper" kind, you've probably already formulated at least one hypothesis. The trick is to recognize it. Fundamentally, you need to think about everything you've learned thus far in terms of provability (or at least acceptable theory). The best example I can give, which most SCA researchers will run across, is proving or disproving a statement made by someone else (scholar, historian, re-creator, me, etc.) that you've accepted as a workable hypothesis. For instance, perhaps you read somewhere, "Medieval sumptuary laws prohibited the wearing of cloth of gold by all but the royal family." This is a pretty reasonable statement, and seems to be a workable hypothesis. For all intents and purposes, you believe it. But what's the source for this statement? Did it come with a footnote or citation? How did the author of this statement arrive at it? If you can ask these questions about your hypothesis, and realize you don't have an answer to any one of them, your real research is at the starting gate.

In some cases, such as the example above, a hypothesis may be provable simply through more reading. In such instances, your reading would start to narrow in on primary or extant sources. (If it doesn't, you're not doing real research- you're just hobby reading.) You're not necessarily experimenting in this proving method, but you are employing a scientific processes nonetheless. You're locating at least one primary source for the hypothesis and verifying that it supports it.

In most cases, though, a more traditional form of experiment is required. Let's say you've formulated a hypothesis on your own, through reading and observation of primary artwork and extant examples, that goes something like: "The set-in sleeve as we recreate it today uses a greater curve amplitude than those used in during the 14th and 15th century." You've established your sources- many primary and a few others from scholarly publications, but actually proving it requires action. You must make a set in sleeve using the shallower curve your hypothesis suggests, and prove that it matches your primary sources.

If you've been doing research- true, hypothesis formulating research- and you haven't experienced a natural reaction to go into action, there's one of three things going on. 1) You're lazy; 2) You're not serious about your hypothesis; or 3) You're afraid of being proven wrong. All three of these are unpleasant, but are a reality. It can be hard to admit when you're being lazy, but if you've been making statements and perpetuating them without proving them simply because the proving process requires more effort than you want to invest, you've definitely taken a turn down the lazy path. I think it's safe to say that most people who haven't hit the action stage don't fit this category, but it's a very easy one to fall into, even if just for a short time.

The second inaction category, not being serious, is also easy to fall into, especially in a re-creation group like the SCA. Groups with a casual attitude about authenticity almost seem to encourage taking a non-serious approach to researching your topic of interest. That's not to say that good, quality, hypothesis proving research isn't recognized and rewarded. More to the point is that side-steps to your research that fit the general (or "popular") mentality are usually well-received if not well-researched. An example of this is: Your hypothesis has suggested that Norsemen used half-round cloth banners for the "heraldic" display of their time, but the popular thought among the Norse persona in your Kingdom is that the quarter-round banner is correct, so, because you're not serious about your hypothesis, you make a quarter-round banner instead.

The last one is probably the most populous, but not everyone has the same reason for being afraid of being proven wrong. Some people don't want to be proven wrong out of an overblown sense of ego. Those people are probably not reading this blog. They've formulated their hypothesis and they're running with it, unproven, because they decided that it works for them and there's no point in changing. These people are most likely falling in one or both of the other categories as well. The other people in this category, however, have more innocent reasons to be afraid. I find myself in this category every time I'm ready to prove my hypothesis with a piece of very expensive material. I don't want to be proven wrong because I don't want my money (and to a lesser extent, time) go to waste. It certainly does take a major amount of suck-it-up gusto to get out of this, but if you're not lazy and you're serious about your research, you'll do it. Another way to be in this category is simply out of a fear of embarrassment. No one likes to admit that they were wrong, and some people can take having to do so very much to heart. They best thing I can say to those people is this: if you've done all the work up to this point, and the only thing standing between you and proving you hypothesis is your inaction, have confidence in your research thus far. Explore all the other avenues you can (have you found primary sources that back you up?). If you have a body of research to support you, you lessen the chances that your hypothesis is a dud. Not only that, but all failure is an opportunity to learn- take what you can from your experiment and formulate a new hypothesis.

The bottom line, and the short answer to the question, is this: Research requires action, namely through experimentation. If you're not turning "on paper" research into action, either you haven't formulated any hypothesis to work from yet, or you've fallen victim to one of the three inaction categories above.

I know this was kind of a serious one, thanks for sticking with me to the end!

A lot on my mind

Well, Dearg and I have come to the painful but necessary decision to not go to Pennsic this year. We've been hit pretty hard with this bad economy and just can't come up with enough for all the supplies we need- mainly fabric for a full week's worth of garb (for both of us). Because of that decision, as well as also not being able to afford to go to Border Raids in July, our summer events are rather few and far between. This means it will probably be pretty quiet around here for the next few months, but I'll be sure to keep you posted on my projects and thoughts as they come around.

For now, however, I do have several things on my mind that I'd like to share with you.

My brother has been in town visiting this week. He's never been to an event, so we took him to Baron Wars yesterday. It's a shame the weather was so crummy- wind gusts of up to 20mph all day, overcast and chilly. We ended up sitting at our little setup just about all day trying to stay warm and trying to keep Owen bundled up and happy (which was extremely hard). It wasn't a very good first impression. Which got me thinking....

Most events are arranged with the idea that the vast majority of attendees are familiar with the SCA and would be happy enough to just sit around in garb. The great events mix that familiarity with a "demo" atmosphere. I love the events that have "artisan" rows. I wish they were a little more hands-on, but the fact that you can go and see someone doing something period and find out about it is a great idea. I remember going to the 18th century settler's village as a kid and LOVVING it. It's that "living history" concept that the SCA is usually lacking. Even if the weather was crummy, at least there would be more to experience, and new folks wouldn't wonder why they just shelled out $10 to sit around shivering. I've been in the SCA for 13 years, and I still feel that way sometimes!

I would say that half the events I go to, I feel that there's no place for me. I don't participate in light or heavy fighting, archery or thrown weapons, or even equestrian or coursing (which aren't offered often enough). I teach a class once and a while, but I haven't participated in an A&S faire in a few years. That leaves what? Shopping (when there are merchants that actually have something I want) and working on my own projects. Wow. Money well spent, huh?

Now, I don't want you to think that I'm not interested in going to events. I have been in the SCA long enough that I am one of those people content with sitting around in garb. But with money so tight these days, I think events need to be more organized and offer more that just the chance to show off some new garb for everyone that pays to be there.

Alright. I've gotten that off my chest. Moving on....

Remember a week or so back I mentioned that my new rust-colored dress still wasn't fitting right? I tried to adjust it before the event yesterday morning, but one of the new seams went a little catty-wonkus, which I didn't have enough time to fix. I needed to take about and inch off of the two front side and two back side seams around the torso. That may be the diet at work, but I think the dress was too big to begin with.

So, not able to wear the rust dress, I just grabbed my old brown dress. I wore the brown dress most of last summer while I was pregnant, so it's actually the least-well fitting dress that I have, but it is sooo comfortable. All three of my regular dresses are made of 45% linen/55% rayon "linen-look" material which only gets better with age. My brown dress is soft, has a slight sheen (probably because of the wear on the rayon), and hangs very well, which are all the great qualities of 100% linen. It just takes a few years of wearing it to get that way.

I did make a new shirt for Owen. It's not quite right around the neck and sleeves, but it's really cute:


Dearg made a tiny antler toggle which totally made the shirt cool. You'll notice that I used some of the rust linen, so he'd kind of match me, but it's an early period style shirt. This wasn't my best work, but that's really just because I cut it a little wrong. I'll know better next time.

I've got to sit down and re-think my project list. There are a bunch of things I could be doing that aren't currently on the list, so I keep forgetting about them. I've also got a couple ideas for more classes that I can teach, including "What to do with the that White Piece of Fabric"- a class about veils and headwraps; and "Headdress in Under a Yard"- a class about how to use very little fabric to make some really nice (and period) headdresses. I'll be rolling those out this summer at the fiber arts event (when it gets coordinated), or at one of the few events I'll be attending in the next couple of months.

So, there's lots to do. Even if it's not fancy stuff.