Why I almost hung up cosplay before I even began

NOTE: In no way is this post meant to body shame, look down on, condemn or otherwise reproach any decisions that cosplayers make for their own bodies.

When I first started cosplaying I was told I would never make it without a boob job.

As a proud member of the B cup club, I was more than a little confused. I didn’t know there was a curvature requirement when I signed up to be a cosplayer. Where was this comment coming from? Unfortunately, as we see with mainstream culture as a whole, this really was tying to something deeper: telling women what to do with their bodies. We’re used to seeing examples of policing women’s bodies when women are told they ‘can’t’ or ‘shouldn’t’ wear something ‘revealing’ despite it making them feel amazing. Why? Because a patriarchal society deems it unfit for them to enjoy.

This policing goes both ways.

From my very first experiences in the cosplay world I was immediately told what I needed to do with my body—show it off.

Not because I felt comfortable doing that, or because it made feel empowered, but because that is what the expectation was for a woman to be a successful cosplayer. Wow.

Luckily, I know a thing or two about not doing what I’m supposed to do. I was the second woman in my entire (very large) family to get a four year degree. I’m the first woman in my family to work in a white collar job. I work in a male dominated industry, continually berated for not being a true fan of whatever video game I choose to enjoy while my cis/white/male counterpart can pick up a controller for the first time and immediately be recognized as part of the community.

Cosplay was supposed to be an escape.

And I think that’s what cosplay is for a lot of us.

We’re the misfits, the Lost Boys, the runaways, the wanderers…and we find our home in cosplay. So where did the idea that we, as women, couldn’t bring our true selves to these spaces come from?

Great question!

When the comic, video game and gaming industries began they were predominately focused on targeting men. In a lot of ways they still are. And with the desire to target these men, the objectification of women became a large part of the culture. If we do a quick history check, though, we’ll find that when cosplay was in its infancy it wasn’t as sexualized as it was today. One of the earliest recorded cosplays I’ve read about was a woman cosplaying a Star Wars X-Wing Starfighter. Additionally, many of the earliest cosplays were tied to the Star Trek fandom, which again was hardly a means for character sexualization (I mean…have you seen those onseies). In the last five years we’ve seen a surge in cosplays that are pushed by popular media outlets (and Reddit streams) to sexualize cosplayers, whether or not that is the intention of the cosplayer.

This is how we arrive at the comment I ran into when I first started cosplaying.

The real question is, how much talent have we missed out on by allowing these ideas to perpetuate? How many other people do not feel comfortable or safe in the cosplay community because they have been told similar ‘requirements’ for existing in this space? We’re been told that sexualization equals success. I’ll go even farther, since I’ve been told this: sexualization is the only way to success in the cosplay industry.

But what if there’s another way?

What if we stop making women feel they need compromise in order to appeal to a patriarchal society that tells them they can only be valid when they are only bodies?

Just yesterday I heard someone say they hated making sexualized content but they’re going to start doing it again because that’s what people want. We have to stop this. As I said at the beginning, this is not about shaming anyone…and I do mean ANYONE. It’s about realizing that not every woman wants to put bikini photos of herself online. It’s about acknowledging that boudoir sessions are not something every cosplayer feels comfortable doing. It’s about recognizing these feelings and then working to uplift and support women who choose to cosplay a different way.

I now have a platform I’ve built despite being told I need to compromise my standards, but the misogynistic comments are far from gone. I am so thankful I didn’t listen to men who told me that to exist in this space I would have to follow their rules. Because ultimately, I make the rules to my cosplay journey. And it is my sincerest hope that you’ll make the rules to yours as well—no matter how they go against the norms.