festival finery

I have returned from my merry weekend in Dublin, Ohio, wherein I waltzed most of my troubles away (although actually my dancing tends towards a weird combination of Irish step dancing, tap, and interpretive dance, with a little clubbing style thrown in for the heck of it... and as of yet I have not managed to succeed at waltzing). Festivals are one of the few times in my current life where I get to dress to be seen -- which I suppose makes me look a bit awkward amongst half the people who come garbed in anything that will keep the heat away, but I don't look overly amiss, either, which is nice after sticking out so much at home.

Because I am Very Stubborn, I managed to get outfit pictures just for you lot, too! 

DAY ONE: I am gothy. Dad, bless him, does not look at me funny even once. We have extremely spicy kung pao chicken for dinner and lovely lovely lovely plum wine, and then head off to the festival after setting up camp. I dance to a punk-ish band and impress a lot of young people, one of whom bows to me. Clearly my empire is underway.

(yes, this is me almost asleep in the car -- though not quite as I am TAKING PICTURES OF MY HEAD.)

Hogwarts shirt (!!!!!!!!!) // Kyra/Hot Topic
tulle skirt // thrifted, originally from Target (WHY DON'T WE HAAAVE ONE)
bodice and hat and shoes // thrifted
stripey thigh-highs // Rue 21 clearance rack
lovely little hair bits I've been trying to incorporate FOREVER // Kyra

I also wore my long black lace gloves much of the time after we arrived at the festival.

DAY TWO: I do a lot of dancing & buy a few shinies and eat fish and chips and watch my favourite band since I was eleven tear up the stage with their sheer force of awesome. (Solas is especially great for me because they keep releasing albums, and so while some songs reach back to my pre-teen memories, others are heavy with the field I used to wander in our old house in the woods, or sitting in a car with my family and Kyra, or dancing out by the water at the city park.) Things happen involving cellos and me going utterly slack with sheer enjoyment. Also I get so caught up in a book that I read during some sets until I am finished.

dress // Ross Dress For Less, five dollars from a clearance rack
bodice // thrifted
parasol // Ebay, about seven dollars (it's fake silk & real bamboo)
scarf and peacock feathers // Kyra
shoes // thrifted

See, this is the sort of outfit I can mostly only wear to a music festival. The embroidered scarf, definitely. My parents gave it to me for my birthday, having bought it from a vendor at Merlefest in North Carolina who was selling beautiful handmade items from some South Asian and African countries. My parents are fantastic, yes! The little coins jingle against each other and it is made for dancing, but mostly I hang it over my bed because it is too lovely to fold up in a drawer when not in use.

And the scarf Kyra had her sister fetch me in Turkey, when she was on a school-sponsored trip. It's pashmina -- I was admiring a similar one in a sort of hippie boutique but it was some terrifying price and Kyra went, hey, I saw those in Turkey for seven dollars; I shall get you one when my sister goes. I love it terribly.

The parasol I definitely did buy for music festivals -- I bought it right before Stanfest in Nova Scotia last year, which was THE WORST IDEA EVER; clearly the weather gods were in hysterics over me and my naiveté, as it was cold and rainy and muddy all weekend, being NOVA SCOTIA and all. I took it to Merlefest in April, though, where it served with honour and kept the sun (hisssss the yellow face we hates it precious) off me and my stubbornly cultivated semi-pallor.

DAY THREE: We attend the end of a U2-inspired church service. I watch my favourite band again and fall further in love with their accordion player and his beautiful singing voice. Two different bands have us sing "Wild Mountain Thyme" with them, which nearly makes me cry, as it is one of those old songs that reaches deep into my heart and forgotten corners of my childhood. We wander about a tenth-century Irish village; I pet a dead bear and blow a horn rather like the Horn of Gondor (& now I want one). Dad buys antique sheet music for his mother and his wife (...my mother; I mean, just so we're clear). Songs about the Troubles break my heart; songs about folklore send it somewhere fey and fiery. 

dress and blouse and leather loafers // thrifted
belt // Rue21
you can't see my pretty key necklace and cameo -- alas!
flower circlet // bought at the festival: I couldn't resist! 

In conclusion: I did not wear a single pair of impractical shoes this week. Go me! And now to bed; I am terrifyingly sleepy.