I love going to period history festivals. There, I said it! I love these people. They are fearlessly embracing what can only be called a lifestyle. They dress in costumes, speak in phony accents to strangers, and walk about through some field as if it were the most natural thing to do.
Be aware; many of these costumed citizens have created their own garb, and probably invested small fortunes in time and talent getting the details just right. And yet I just can't get past it. Forgive me, but not a one of them is datable. Sure there's cleavage enough to embarrass a night club owner. But then there's the rest. I will refrain from the details, but seriously, would it kill someone to floss?
There are people, I found out, who get the creeps from costume fairs. I don't especially understand that one, but I can see where some of the creepiness can seep into a phobia.
I don't sound much like a defender of the lifestyle, but I kid out of love. There are some courageous folks in those fields.