I have come to accept that The Secret of Moonacre, about whose costumes I have already written much, will never see release in the States because of magical reasons of which I am unaware but probably involve dragons and things. So, I will have to make up this damn movie myself. Luckily, the best website in the world The Costumer’s Guide, had a link to some new costume stills, so like photos of a crime scene, I can use these to piece together what’s happened.

P.S. From these pictures, what happened is not good.

Oh, you can run, young heroine, but you can’t hide.

Funny you mention a crime scene…
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No one could be more excited for the never-release of Moonacre than I am. It’s got beautiful costumes – like, really beautiful – and I don’t despise any of the actors. Plus, from what I had seen so far (with the exception of the steampunk tiny scarf of which I do not approve) seemed to be evidence that the movie had been made with style and care.

And I thought that riiiiight up until this morning, when I saw this:

And realized this movie is in Serious Trouble.

“There’s a penalty box for bad costumes, you know. It’s lined in gingham.”

I was going to do a big picspam, but this totally derailed it. We’ll talk about the other costumes later. I just want to point out everything wrong with this photo.

Let your eye roam for a second. Then tear your gaze away from Tim Curry (I know he used to be hot; I can’t help you).

Firstly, Natasha McElhone, who’s rocking a standard-issue Princess Dress, except that she could only afford pearls on one-tenth of it. Also, under her veil, her shoulders look like sea anemones. It’s no wonder she’s making that face.

Now, let’s talk about Ioan.

Ioan’s character, previously slapped into a sage brocade housecoat, is clearly a man of flashy taste. I do, however, question why his overcoat (stolen from Dumbledore) has a pair of velvet curtains hanging off the front. I have to think it’s heatstroke from having a doublet buttoned up UNDERNEATH his waistcoat flap.

(Also, costumers of the world, if you are going to create tabbed shoulders for shoulder rolls, it’s really best to actually stuff the rolls, so your character’s costume doesn’t sit limply off his shoulders like it has a Certain Problem, okay?)

(Also, those shoulder rolls, if stuffed, would be about a foot in diameter. Did anybody think about this? Did you mean to make epaulets and you came in one day and someone had already made a big yoke with some velvet curtains hanging off it and you were like, “You know what, if that’s how Sally wants it, FINE,” and then you sewed the epaulets onto the shoulders just for something to do?)

Moving on to the hats. They look at first like your normal European/Russian Byzantine/Medieval head lumps, but one of those ladies is wearing the Olympic Rings, the dude in the red is wearing a Romulan spacecraft, and the chick on the far left is wearing a hat with a pair of horn skeletons on it. I…do not even know.

Basically, I’m guessing that one very talented costumer got assigned to the young lady, and everyone else had to band together and sew their own costumes blindfolded as part of a bonding ritual.

(Also, there’s a chandelier in the back. Because if there’s one thing stone castles had a ton of, it was chandeliers.)

(Oh, MOVIE.)

I am a huge costume nerd. This surprises exactly no one. However, sometimes I go a little over the top and have to rein it back in before people picket my house with signs like SHUT UP ABOUT BUSKS. Traditionally, is responsible for picking topics that provide appropriate counterpoint to these costume ramblings. His response to the latest overdose appeared in my inbox promptly:

The spud gun.

It shoots potatoes. There’s some engineering mumblemumble about combustion vs. pneumatic, but all of that pales when you look at this glorious machine. That clean PVC construction, that random crank on the side that I can only assume adjusts power from Baby New all the way up to Yukon Gold.

This gun makes everything in the world even better. No matter how cool you think something is, it’s cooler with a spud gun.

Proof.

In my love affair with the spud gun (and the little hands attached to it that I didn't bother erasing,) I applied it to some boring scenes in costume-heavy movies. The transformation is amazing.

“Life is fun again!”
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I’m catching up on wordcount at the moment, so I’m not blogging as much as I’d like. When I’ve recovered from WisCon, expect some more of the Catherine Cookson Experience, a pile of Questionable Taste Theatres, and a response to Darin Bradley’s challenge.

In the meantime, mad respect to these dancers, who have better spacial memory than I ever will.

Even more respect to the dancers of the period, who did this dance in crowded, smoky rooms, basically in the dark (candles never give off more light than absolutely necessary, the bastards), forty pounds of embroidered clothing, shoes with no demarcated left and right, and the stench of unwashed humanity constantly crawling up their noses. Ah, romance!

I walk through midtown twice a day, passing the Fendi store. The spring shop windows are out.

On the right hand side, a tea dress from 1915, from the Seduction exhibit at FIT.

From the Fendi Spring 2009 collection. I am on to you, fashion house! (And I approve!)

By the way, as is traditional after costume overposting, Darin Bradley gets to pick some super-macho topic next. Already covered: monster trucks.