Cosplay, the art and craft of dressing as a character from some fandom, has been gaining popularity here in the US in the last several years. In fact, last year cable channel Syfy even launched a reality show based on the practice, titled Heroes of Cosplay. The craft covers a vast array of skill levels and intentions, from screen-accurate reconstructions of favorite costumes down to a T-shirt with your character’s logo/costume printed on it.

I know some people don’t “get” cosplay; I certainly didn’t used to. (To be fair, though, I didn’t get Twitter at the time, either. My, how times do change.) Actually, though, there’s not a lot to get. It’s kind of like dressing up for Hallowe’en, except in a venue where one can really uncork all the geekiness one might usually keep bottled up, knowing full well that someone will appreciate even the most obscure reference or crazy execution.

Although I was aware of the practice, I’d never really been immersed in the culture until my first convention (yes, ever) at Gallifrey One 2012. It was an eye-opening experience, and I felt almost out of place in my street clothes. I was an outsider looking in, but what I saw looked like a lot more fun than I’d ever expected.

I had an odd, eye-opening experience this past weekend. My husband works for a company that revels in its employees’ nerdy/geeky passions, and actively encourages them both in the workplace and beyond. Last Friday was their annual holiday party, and for the first time I was able to accompany Hubby to the shindig (yay! for childcare!).

To give you an idea about what a seriously big deal this party is, I offer the following. As the company has grown, it’s opened branches in two other large, Midwestern cities. In order to ensure everyone the opportunity to indulge, they hired two busses (motorcoaches) to transport folks from these other two cities here, where an entire hotel had been reserved for the event.

At this point, those who frequent cons may begin to feel on familiar ground. While events like Gallifrey One don’t actually get the entire LAX Marriott (not for lack of trying, I’d bet), anyone not in on it is likely to feel a bit awkward. It was lovely, therefore, that the party in question didn’t have any outsiders to work around. You knew that anyone you saw there that night was a company employee, a “plus one,” or a hotel employee. (Or one of the bus drivers, I suppose…)