I love comics; I’ve been confused about cosplayers. Comic love meant growing up with Batman, Daredevil and the Avengers; discovering Swamp Thing and joy at seeing graphic novels such as the prize-winning Maus and Dotter of Her Father’s Eyes reach wide audiences.
Cosplayers were something new. For anyone who doesn’t know about enthusiasts who dress as favourite characters at comic conventions, that link is a good viewpoint. It includes my early concerns about women in alarmingly small amounts of lycra being objects of both sexism and derision.
This is a short and simplistic post, without time to reflect more but I wanted to catch a snapshot of the first convention I’ve attended: London Super Comic Con.
The middle photo is the villain from Kick-Ass 2. I’m going to chicken out of naming names. The Chris D’Amico character in both Kick-Ass films is one of my daughter’s favourites so I got up the courage to ask for a photo.
I certainly didn’t expect to meet a charming young woman called Amy under that exterior. Now she’s Facebook friends with my daughter and a potential bodyguard, in her alter-alter ego as Mother Russia, if Amelia gets her act together to dress up another time.
The brilliant Batman rig in the first photo caught my eye for a second request. Without any doubt, that has to be the most awesome wheelchair EVER. I was so enthralled that it took my husband to point out the accompaniment of faithful retainer Alfred: I assume that in another guise, he’s Batman’s dad. I’m honestly lost for words at the love and care and pride that’s gone into this. Not much is really awesome. This is.
And the Star Wars pair. We were on our way out when they strolled past, tall and confident. I thought they were students from our flats, before a double-take to recognise the brother and sister I babysat when she was a toddler.
‘The blaster’s in the bag,’ Stefan pointed out before they headed off on the DLR; away from school, more mundane uniforms and the daily routine.
Freedom, self-expression and great fun. Now I get it.