it's hip to be a square

I WENT TO A MEDIEVAL GATHERING YESTERDAY.

It was held in the small, green, tree-bordered courtyard of an old highschool. Forty or so people were there, ranging from two to what I imagine was early fifties, in a variety of medieval garb, much of it clumsily made. I walked up with much trepidation to meet a friend there who was a member of the society, and everyone was very approachable. I hadn't any garb myself, but there was a pile of dresses and tunics and things, most very simple, on a picnic table to rummage through and loan for the day. I had much fun trying these on, and women came up to me a few times; plump mothers, girls my own age, etc, clucking and saying: see, this looks lovely, now, that looks nice. I went through a few changes, starting off with a very plain grey-green dress with a quite charming little vest looped protectively over my arm, only to be gently told that it was a bodice and bodices don't go with that style of dress.
I discovered a light purple dress and leapt upon it. Drifitng about the piles was a long, rich purple velvet over dress with {gate?} sleeves and gold and red embroidery, and I slipped this on over the top, feeling very regal indeed. "That's actually out of period," Gee said, coming up to me and straightening it around my shoulders, "But it looks prreeettyy..."
An old woman with fly-away grey hair, in a brown over dress and whitish skirt and brown leather boots, the maker of many of the clothes, came over to me and appraised me, picking out a red dress from the pile: She told me that the red had originally been made to go under the dress, bringing out as it did the red and gold embroidery, and so I changed. The dress combo looked very nice indeed, my red hair complimenting it, but alas it was all too long and rather hot, and I found myself flinging it all off again and slipping back into the green dress.

I met a girl there, Arr. She was a newbie too, and we seemed to become immediate friends through our shared circumstance. We stuck together the entire time, playing with the littlies. Barefoot, with my hair unbound and the dress cinched at my waist, spinning on the grass and chasing the littlies with medieval people around me, I felt very much like I'd fallen into the Inkworld.

If I join this society, I'll need a dress.

There was only one girl in the sword fighting, and while Arr and I's main assailant, a little boy with a gnawed foam sword and a cloak, granted us a brief respite while he looked for food (biscuits, from the grey-haired dressmaker) and we lounged on the grass, watching the tourney, I fantasised about being a mysterious and uber-skilled fighter in mail and armour, half the size of those giant metal men, beating them all with deftness and speed. It's the Fox! they'd all murmur, while off the sparring pitch I'd be Lady Indi, juggler extrodinaire, tamer of little ones.

It was all good fun, and I loved how all these people were gathered here for that purpose only: to have fun, and not take it seriously to the excess.

These people have lives beyond this escape world. That is good.

So, Arr and I are thinking we might actually join! We'll see, shall we?

Autumn makes all possible.