“Remoted – Hybrid” – Day 789 (Saturday) – steampunk chill

Oy. Just like on this date in 2016, today was another chilly, windy day at the Steampunk Festival in Waltham. There was a good-sized crowd in costumes and what felt like an overabundance of photographers. A photographer friend was taking photos of me and my friends, and suddenly four more photographers materialized behind him, clicking away. 

We saw this repeated over and over throughout the festival as one person taking a photo of someone in a cool costume turned into a stampede. It’s kind of weird when you are just a normal, anonymous person at an event and suddenly a swarm of strangers appears with cameras. 

Dressing this morning involved a version of costume roulette. The only solid decision upon waking was the top hat. It wasn’t long before the mound on the bed included gunmetal metallic leggings, bronze metallic leggings, black leggings, silver skirt, and three black skirts. These were joined by tops – a black and white striped blouse, gold and black brocade top, and a red top. In a move to avoid the discomfort of the full corset, options were a black vinyl vest, black waist cincher, or tan waist cincher. Then there were jacket options, as it was cold. Red velvet, purple velvet, black velveteen, teal patterned silk. The elements were cycled through in various combinations for more than an hour. It was exhausting.

The final choices were a silver satin skirt over gunmetal leggings, red top, black waist cinch, black boots, black velveteen jacket, and a top hat. The skirt was gathered up in the front to make walking easier. There was one wardrobe malfunction when the sole of one of my favorite boots completely detached. Thank goodness it happened at home and not at the festival. And thank goodness there was another pair of black boots in the closet. 

A shawl was selected for added warmth and forgotten on the table when we headed out. Old-timey gloves were taken, well, because why not. And the recently reorganized eyeglasses were located. 

Delicious jalapeno margarita.

We lasted an hour in the chill before retreating to the warmth of Taqueria Mexico, near where the car was parked. It was warm and comfortable inside. My interest was piqued by “Jalapeno Margarita.” My friends said it is delicious, so I went for it. I liked how the jalapeno slices nestled in the hollows of the ice cubes. Yes, it was delicious. So was my cheese quesadilla with rice and beans.

On the approach to my house, I fished around in my "regular" purse (not to be confused with the tiny "costume purse") for the spare house key on a ring with a big plastic doo dad that makes it easier to find. It wasn’t in the big purse, nor the small one. 

The three of us searched my friends' car. We know I had it when we left, because it was used to lock the door from the outside. But when we got back, it wasn’t anywhere – not under the seat, not between the seats, not under the floor mat. Gone. 

Lap folds in a restaurant.
Stuff could be lost in here.

After I was home a few minutes and rolling back the tape of the day, I remembered feeling something hitting my foot while getting out of the car in Waltham, but when I looked down, nothing was there. I suspect the key was in the folds in the lap of the massive skirt, and when I got out of the car, it bounced off my foot and under the car. I had even taken a photo of the folds in my lap in the restaurant because I liked how they looked. Luckily, there is a backup key and I could get into the house.