Karen’s back, back again!
Oh, sorry…
I’m my Own Grandma….
I cut myself open to bleed out the black demonic blood, to transgress into the Elizabethan Phoenix.
Why am I doing this?
Why would Solveig, after spending countless hours, dollars, and BLING, change her super awesome amazing sweet viking kit and go late period velvet and brocades? I hear that stuff itches, and boning isn’t that comfortable. But… never mind!
As you may have noticed, the title of my blog went from Steps of the Skald to Travels of the Troubadour. Throughout my bardic path, I have had much duality in my stage presence. What you’d see is tall, bold, shield maiden; however what you would hear was dulcet melodies of late Elizabethan songs.
It was time to stop confusing the audiences, and maybe even myself.
You would think, Solveig, what does it matter that your kit doesn’t match your performance?
And I would respond, The Bard is the whole package.
It made very little sense for a viking to be singing late Elizabethan songs unless it was a “costumed” performance. So I made the decision to become one with the performance.
My first gripe was garb. Because who doesn’t like to be uncomfortable and unable to breathe in 100+ degree weather with 99% humidity? What do I do with this thing on my head? I’m already tall enough! How do veils go? Why do I have three sets of sleeves? Why do I have NINE skirts? Does this corset go on the inside or the outside, and which way makes me a hussy? Where the heck do I put my sword? What do I do with my hair? Wait, I have to lace myself up? Do I need a handmaiden? Where the hell is Karen when I really need her? Oh yeah, helping with blogs…
My next concern is the second biggest: bling! You can take the viking out of the girl, but you can’t take away her bling. All these conquests, all these jewels and pearls, pearls, pearls! Okay, I guess I can make this work, I think I have pearls here and pearls there and pearl earrings and pearl brooches, and pearls are Elizabethan, right? Right?! I guess I’ve got this jewelry thing handled.
My final and most concerning concern: you guessed it, the booze! Wait, does proper late period mean no booze, or hidden and more flavorful? When did the prohibition start in England? I can’t be a proper bard without booze. You can’t spell bard without booze, right?
I mean there ARE some positive things to this whole late period mess, don’t get me wrong. This means I get to openly be a pervert. Look at Shakespeare. Willie S. is my spirit animal. And those codpieces! We also get to enjoy cross-dressing, fencing is period, and oh my god, Landschneckt! All the colors and poofy pants and Landshneckt! And big feathers! Because Landschneckt.
So I suppose this isn’t so bad after all. But it will be a process learning to walk like a late-period lady and not strapping my sword on everyday. But don’t worry Brunnhildr — I mean Solveig the Elder — will make an appearance from time to time.
Have faith my friends.
Meddlings of the Minnesinger 