I received the honor of being invited to contribute to this blog last week, and have been pondering what exactly to contribute. My mind not being one for focusing on one project for long tends to throw topics at me faster than I can handle them. I suppose that I’ll just start from the beginning.
I am at once a born and transplant Southerner. My parents grew up in North Western Arkansas, with my dad’s family hailing from Tennessee and my mom’s family from Alabama. But I was born in Kentuckey, and lived a military lifestyle of moving every handful of years. But, my first real run in with Steampunk was in Chapel Hill, North Carolina.
Shortly after I discovered Steampunk, I was hired on as a wardrobe girl for a traveling show, and got to see the influence of Steampunk all over the Americas. And it is far reaching: from peddlers on the sidewalks of Buenos Aires selling goggles and insects sculpted from brass and glass, to watching a couple of airship pirates rock out in a bar in Vancouver, Canada.
Everyone I met was very nice, very fun, and dressed in lovely clothes. But nothing in my travels ever really outshone the times I had at the Clockwork Balls hosted by the Clockwork Cabaret in Chapel Hill.
I like to think it’s because, as William said in his first post, we thrive on the elegance, chivalry, grace, and manners. But we are still just as grease and dirt covered as our Northern cousins. We just hide it with gloves and a good hat. Our cage crinolines might be a tad impractical, but I promise you that you’ll find a good number of wrenches, modified pocket watches, and no few firearms and pretty knives hidden under those skirts. Y’know, just in case.