The Mike Toole Show

Cosplay Complex

Two weeks later, I'm still coming off the high of dojinshi and other fan-published content. The biggest thing that the two have in common is, of course, the cosplay.

For an easily-distracted doofus like me, cosplay is just another part of the riotous collection of fun you see at anime cons; I know I'm getting close to Otakon when I start noticing kids in black YouTube videos. But you know, I don't see what the big deal is. After all, I won the Otakon masquerade in 1998.

What, did you think this column was going to be about that crummy Hand Maid Mai, which was so awful it got cancel-- OK, you know what? That's a column for another day. In this column, I'm weirding you out by telling you that me, a fat doofus with the most tenuous grasp of fashion, actually won the big prize at a major anime convention. Of course, this was a pretty long time ago. Otakon 1998 was a big deal at the time, but it drew 2,500 fans, a small enough number to fit inside a single hotel, as opposed to this year's fire code-shattering 31,000. The competition back then was real, but it just wasn't as fierce. But why did I do it, and who the hell was I dressed as, anyway?

To answer that, let's go back to the absolute dawn of cosplaying: the 1939 World Science Fiction Convention. Yeah, they actually had conventions in 1939. I struggle to think of what the attendees did without video rooms, video gaming areas, or some sort of "rave," but it was enough of an event to spark some hilarious con drama! Anyway, at this inaugural WorldCon, a kid named Forrest Ackerman had this crazy idea: he'd actually dress up as a futuristic space guy. And so he did, and the result was this:

I'm not really sure about what, specifically is futuristic about flared pants and shoulder pads, but there you have it, the very first known example of nerds in costumes. Ackerman, a giant of science fiction fandom who died in 2008, wasn't making some sort of biting critique of uptight SF fans, he just wanted to have fun. And costuming would stick around, too-- it wasn't a driving force of early conventions, but the emergence of broadly popular visual media like Star Trek and Star Wars in the west and Space Battleship Yamato in the east would help turn a sideshow into one of the biggest convention draws. Here's a video that shows what a convention masquerade was like just before all that, in 1972. Be warned: it's mildly non-worksafe, as it contains examples that led to the "guys, no costume is not a costume!" rule that many conventions and masquerades still have today.

Anime costuming would start to boom in Japan as fans got organized in the 70s; Comiket kicked off in '75, and Sailor Moon episodes the previous night.

This convention (AnimEast 1995, natch) was also where I saw the spectacle of a convention masquerade for the first time. Two things stick with me: the first one is the sight of Walter Amos, who stayed rigidly and hilariously in character as an officious imperial officer. The whole thing was an absurd, clumsy, and oddly endearing spectacle, and I knew then that I'd have to try it myself.

Okay internet, what I need you to do now is dig up all of your issues of Animerica from, like, 1996 to 1997. Look in the back, where you'll find generally awful fan art and blurry cosplay photos. I'm in there somewhere, dressed as Anime Central 1998 masquerade to no great effect.

I drove down to Otakon 1998 with translator extraordinaire Stu Levy re that, too. But I had a secret weapon in my suitcase - a blue jumpsuit that my girlfriend (now wife) had appropriated from a mascot costume pattern, along with a gigantic round paper mache headpiece painted up to look like a cat. A blue cat. A blue robot cat. From the future.

Yes, I was Jeff Thompson (peace be upon him), who smiled as he recounted the decision. "As soon as the doors were closed," he said with a grin, "We just looked at each other and knew."

So there you have it: jerky old Mike, in cosplay. I'd costume up a couple more times, courtesy of the craftmanship of my amazing wife, Prairie Rose Clayton, who makes even more awesome stuff now-- once as Daiei Films' famous stone golem Daimajin, and once as the AMVs or funny YouTube videos or criticism or blogging or any other of the many ways we interact with anime and manga - it's a unique and tangible expression of our fandom. I poke fun at cosplayers sometimes - usually, it's the ones with massive props who stand obliviously in front of packed escalators or choked hallways, posing for photos - but the hobby is absolutely integral to what anime fandom is. , "cosplay" is in the dictionary now! (But only the Oxford one - I guess Merrian-Webster is still too cool for school.)

Nowadays, of course, the bar for masquerades at even small conventions is way higher than it was in '98. Accomplished cosplayers are in-demand models, start businesses, and can become convention celebrities in their own right, even if it's not always for the right reasons-- just ask Boner Robin or Fat Optimus Prime. There's also an interesting little thread that connects cosplay and many pros in the anime industry - I talked about Trish Ledoux earlier, but Escaflowne. This year, a group of my friends sallied forth at Otakon dressed to the nines... as the cast of Escaflowne.

What about you, internet? When did you decide to start cosplaying? What's the best costume you've seen, or the weirdest? Is there a character that you like but have never seen cosplayed? Sound off in the comments!