Somewhere in Time
It only looks ridiculous from the outside.
“ I just can’t imagine myself walking around for 4 days in a costume.”
That’s the text I got from my husband before the event started. When it was over, he texted:
“I’m going to miss all this fun.”
Between those two texts is an entire story about (usually) harmless escapism.
For the record, I wasn’t at the event in costume. I attended Teslacon as an observer, watching hundreds of people immerse themselves in another century, another world, for a weekend.
My daughter and I walked through the halls admiring the artistry, the meticulous detail, the pure joy of people who had poured countless hours into every brass gear and Nordic element.
I was actually the odd one out in my jeans and sweater- the fourth-wall breaker, the penny in the suit.
If you’ve never seen it, in Somewhere in Time, Christopher Reeve’s character time-travels by literally willing himself into another era, erasing every trace of his present life until he’s completely immersed in the year 1912.
But at the peak of his bliss, when he's finally convinced the woman of his dreams he'd actually traveled through time to find her, he finds a modern-day penny in his suit pocket (an accident of his own making).
The illusion shatters, and he's instantly yanked back to his own time, torn away from the woman he loves.
Anguished, he desperately tries to will himself back to her, but can't, and dies of heartbreak…only to reunite with her in the afterlife.
Hollywood’s favorite loophole: Love conquers all.
Still, I found a parallel there; we all try to stop time in our own ways, lingering in the best parts until the present scoots us ahead. Everyone at Teslacon was time-traveling with nothing but intention and creativity, choosing, for a little while, to step outside the everyday and into something magical.
While I can’t imagine dressing up for a convention myself, I found myself wondering who I would dress as and why.
It’s all about how you want to feel, isn’t it? Who you want to be for a while.
Maybe a badass, maybe a villain. Maybe something funny. I mean, I love making people laugh, but sometimes I just want to feel the exact opposite of what I’m living through.
If I’m Lagertha the Viking Queen, I can defeat my enemies, look damn good doing it, and not think about hormones, finances, work, or car troubles (fun little glimpse into my week).
If I’m Frigga, I’m a regal, wise sorceress who carries herself with grace and dignity, never getting dragged into family drama.
If I’m Fat Thor, it’s because sometimes comfort and low expectations are all I can muster, given the day.
Teslacon was a cacophony of senses (or maybe I just get overstimulated easily, who knows).
We admired the craftsmanship and the wares: independent creators selling books, jewelry, artwork, everything lovingly handmade. It felt like a Ren fair on acid, but in the best way.
I stood with a group of fairies, Vikings, and steampunk enthusiasts as a narrator spun tales that were half history, half fantasy. In a random corner, I watched Thor mock-fight a female Loki for a friend's camera, all the while feeling this strange sense of…civility.
Beneath all the noise and colors, there was this underlying courtesy and kindness as people gave each other space to play.
As an observer, I realized just how easy it is to get caught up in the moment when you swear you’re just there to “take notes.”
But the real magic is watching a room full of grown adults collectively... unclench
You can literally feel it happening as the collective energy sort of builds to this "kids on summer vacation' vibe. That's where the real stories are.
The timing was poetic because tickets for Comic-Con go on sale for us first-timers this weekend. I don’t know how the hell I’m gonna pay for it, and the odds of me snagging a weekend pass are right up there with me wielding Mjölnir, but I’m still going to try.
I have my own reasons to escape into something I would never have considered doing in my life, even ten years ago, heck, five years ago.
But the beauty is that it doesn’t have to make sense to anyone else. I want to experience that energy that hums through a crowd when the lights go down for the big show.
I know SDCC is massive and chaotic, and my getting to Hall H is roughly tantamount to completing the Twelve Labors of Hercules, but I have to try.
Before Teslacon, my very straight-laced, no-nonsense, man’s man husband couldn’t fathom why any adult would spend so much time designing costumes and parading around in them.
It wasn’t judgy; he was genuinely curious.
I told him the fun is in the freedom, the craftsmanship, and the self-expression with no judgment.
But that just sent him down a whole new rabbit hole.
“So, do they get mad if you…look at them? Or if you ask for a picture?” he’d asked, ever mindful of social protocols.
(He’s adorable.)
But by the end of the weekend, he got it. The same man who puzzled for days over the logic of it all texted me, “I’m going to miss all this fun.”
It occurred to me he'd forgotten about the penny in his pocket too.
Yeah. Me too.
(Immediately starts searching for the next con.)
Stick around. Getting overly invested is kind of my thing here.
