#female armour

A breakdown of my Chesterwick archer kit for my alternate character “William ‘Willy’ Hunter, inspired by 14th century longbowmen. These photos were all taken in October so it’s actually quite different now, but this gives you the general gist of it. 

1 & 2 - Underwear and boots. 14th century braies, hose and undertunic from Historic Enterprises combined with ArmStreet’s best selling “forest boots”. 

3. My sad, old ArmStreet gambeson. This is basically a thinly padded linen jacket that provides just a little bit of a buffer from my mail, which I put on next.

4. Struggling into my mail. The struggle is real. Note I have a bag over my head to prevent the riveted rings from grabbing my hair and ruining my day. 

5. So this is not the MOST fitted mail you can get (I need to take in the arms a bit), but it’s a miles above a lot of the other stuff you see people using for LARPs. Unfortunately I don’t really have a source for this - I bought it off a friend who ordered a bunch of it, and I managed to get a great price because it wouldn’t really fit anything beyond children. I added my sword belt/ scabbard here as well.

6. Hood and coif. The hood actually belongs to a friend (but I made it for him). A coif is a little linen hat, usually worn under another hat to keep it safe from sweat etc.

7. A straw hat! When I was getting dressed it was still really sunny out. I later swapped this hat out for a wool hat once the sun went down (as seen in the last picture)

8. LARP arrows in a quiver covered in a fox and my 25 pound longbow. It shoots nice and straight and isn’t super heavy so no one gets hurt!

9. Picture of me at the game later that night. 

Hopefully someone finds this interesting. It’s much less complicated than a lot of my other costumes but people still seem to love it. 

How is Pennsic already over? I remember last year it dragged on for what felt like forever - I never had enough sleep, or enough time, or enough patience. I loved the experience, I wouldn’t trade it for anything, but the whole thing felt like a struggle because I never knew what to expect. To be honest, I was happy to go home.

When this Pennsic started, it felt like last Pennsic never ended. It’s as if my life was put on pause last August and everything this year has just been a part of one big intermission, filling in the gaps, pushing time along. When Pennsic started, life resumed.

Same lake, same good company, same walk up the hill to work. Same shops, same food, same customers. Just like last year, the sun would set and the smoke would rise like an old friend and linger until the morning light.

Weirdly enough, when I’m home I almost miss the drumming. To be honest, after a few days of Pennsic you stop hearing the drums - they just fade into the atmosphere, become a part of your heartbeat, lull you to sleep. As I sit in my bedroom writing this I feel a certain sense of loss, as if the quiet night isn’t quite as peaceful when it’s not marred by that steady rhythm. 

Last year I couldn’t wait to go home, I basically ran to the airport. This year, I was grasping at the moments, watching tents collapse and the dust rise as people filed away down the dirt roads around us. I didn’t want it to leave, I had so much more to do and so many people to hug. I had poetry to write and walks to go on and carp to feed. By the time we left, it wasn’t Pennsic anymore, it was just Cooper’s Lake Campground. 

I suppose I’m now existing in the twilight zone between Pennsics, and next July my life will resume.