Edith and I trundled off today to Autumn Collegium in Beau Fleuve, at a site that is about as far as you can get from home and still be in the Barony (travel time: approximately an hour).  For me, at least, it was a very relaxing day.  I taught my socks class, which now has the official title, “Banish the Tube Socks”, to a captive audience of five.  Honnoria had cornered me sometime before the class and asked if I needed a victim model; I said yes and now there’s a mostly-finished hosen pattern for her in a box in my kitchen to be finished up at a later date.  So we talked the theory of socks and then I demonstrated how to drape a pattern for them.  As we were talking, I realized that there’s really no way to explain men’s hosen without explaining braies.  So now I’m thinking about a two-hour class entitled “13th century men from the waist down”.  Mistress Alicia asked me if I could do it at Three Ravens.

In addition to teaching my class, I went to Mistress Alicia’s class on documentation which just served to remind me that, as I put it to her, I have an attitude problem about A&S competitions.  And I’m not scared of documentation (which we knew).  And in my continuing class to spend as much time as possible in places where goldwork embroidery is happening (as if that will magically imbue me with the ability to do it), I audited  Mistress Yvianne’s Or Nué class.  No, it’s not opus anglicanum, but the technique for the application of the metal threads is very similar so I absorbed more today.  I think that after the first of the year I will be brave enough to order some gold and stranded silk and have a go at it for real.

The dayboard was spectacular, there was good company, and it was all in all a relaxing day and I was home cooking dinner for a very affectionate five year old girl by 5 pm.

Found in Georgia!  Not woven, probably knotted.  Dyed in fun colors, too.  (NPR story)

I keep going back and forth between being glad I’m taking a year off from Pennsic this year (we’re going to help out with our new niece instead) and sad that I’m going to miss it.

Have fun, kill many!

Pooh Tunics are DONE.

Her Majesty’s Pooh Tunic: > 3/4 assembled (one side complete, the other not).

His Majesty’s Pooh Tunic: 1/2 to assembled.

TRM came by on Monday to check necklines (I’m soooo paranoid about necklines) and a good thing, too, because I need to put bigger gussets in His Majesty’s sleeves.

If I am a good little worker bee I should be able to have them done by the middle of next week.

This pile of “Pooh” colored linen (Shoshanna’s color-description, not mine) is destined to be tunics for TRM, to be worn either solo or under their Viking overlayers.  To be done by Pennsic (eep!).  Good thing I’m machine-sewing them!  :)

Interrupted?  Anyway… Pax was our only chance to camp this summer, since we’re not going to Pennsic.  Somehow we had never managed to get to Pax over the last three years despite it being only an hour away.

So we headed out Friday afternoon, got all set up and did some visiting on Friday night before we had to wrestle Shoshanna into bed.  Saturday we got up, did more visiting, and M went off to fence.  S and I wandered about and played with the various friends she had made and then she crashed for a nap by 11:30 am.  After she woke up M was done fencing and we headed up to the field to watch the fighting and hang out with friends up there.  While we were doing all that Catlin, aka Tall Child and the poor sad post-surgical Kip made it to the event so they joined in the hanging-out.  I think Kip made friends with every person on site.

I also started teaching Shoshanna stem stitch embroidery, which she is really enjoying.  I’ll have to scan her first “project” when she finishes it.

Several months ago I agreed to put front & back gores in an otherwise-finished tunic for HRM Maynard.  It’s something I’ve done lots of times but I had never been totally satisfied with how it came out.  I can DO it, I just don’t LIKE it.

Then Tasha posted her instructions for setting a gore in a slit.  Tasha, it must be said, is a lifesaver, because while this is not anything that I hadn’t seen before, she put it in a way that I could make sense of.  (And I think having the instructions to refer back to really helped, too.  Previously I’ve only been SHOWN how to do it.)  And the gores, they came out beautifully.  Sadly, I didn’t manage to get any good pictures of them but HRM wore the tunic for court at Pax and it looked great, at least from afar.

I counted this for my A&S 50 because, while I didn’t do the whole garment, the re-learning how to do center gores was a pretty big thing for me and definitely will have an impact on how I go about constructing 13th century clothing.

What does this say about the Chivalry?

A discussion started the other day in a friend’s LiveJournal about the … lack of transparency involved in elevation to the Peerages, particularly to the Order of the Laurel (in large part because the friend who started the discussion is herself a Laurel).  I’m still attempting to work through my thoughts on the matter…  it’s been a REALLY interesting discussion.  My slightly more coherent thoughts are behind the jump.

Of course one question that has come up is what  ”Peer-like Qualities” are, anyway.  There are a couple of bullet points in Corpora that seem to be where the umbrella category of “PLQs” comes from.*  From the description of “General Requirements”, we get:

• They shall have set an example of courteous and noble behavior suitable to a peer of the realm.
• They shall have demonstrated support for the aims and ideals of the Society by being as authentic in dress, equipment and behavior as is within their power.
• They shall have practiced hospitality according to their means and as appropriate to the circumstances.

From the list of duties of the members of the Order of the Laurel, there is additionally “To set an example of courtesy and chivalrous conduct”.  (This duty is included for the Chivalry and the Pelicans, too.)

That’s all well and good, but what does it really mean?  Does it boil down to, “Don’t be a jerk”, or is non-jerkitude not enough?  I pointed out in the LiveJournal discussion that, let’s face it, the SCA has more than its share of folks who are lacking in social graces.  How do we reconcile that lack of social graces with PLQs?  Where is the line between not knowing you’re being a jerk and just being intentionally mean?  Naturally there have been lots of examples brought up of folks who have already been elevated acting in ways that most reasonable people would agree is not acceptable from anyone, much less a person who is supposed to be a Paragon.  ( I will come back to this idea of paragon-ness later.)

But that’s just the “Peer-like Qualities”.  Naturally to be elevated you also have to have attained a certain level of skill in a particular area.

The candidate must have attained the standard of excellence in skill and/or knowledge equal to that of his or her prospective peers in some area of the Arts or Sciences. The candidate must have applied this skill and/or knowledge for the instruction of members and service to the kingdom to an extent above and beyond that normally expected of members of the Society.

Clearly, the “standard of skill and/or knowledge equal to that of his or her prospective peers” has risen over the years as the collected knowledge of the Society (and the world at large) has increased & improved.  40 years ago there wasn’t nearly the amount of information about extant garments (just to focus on my area of interest), medieval tailoring technique, etc., that there is now.  But this is still very vague.  ”You have to be as good as the rest of the Laurels” is what it basically boils down to.  But, to a greater or lesser extent, that “as good as” is being judged by the people to whom you are being compared.  Yes, the Order advises the Crown and the Crown can then do whatever it pleases with that advice.  But, again, this is a place where the process is very opaque to an outsider.

From what I’ve observed over the course of almost fourteen years and three kingdoms, the combination of the unclear standards upon which a candidate is judged and the squishiness of what exactly “PLQs” entail leads people to feel that they are navigating shark-infested waters with no guideposts.  People know that the process is arbitrary; they know that if they want the recognition they have to do good work, teach, and have PLQs, but beyond that it’s also very, very opaque.  People feel like they have to walk on eggshells for fear of accidentally pissing off the wrong person and then getting locked out of the “in crowd” for ever and ever amen.  Yes, it is unlikely that one angry member of the Order could completely black-ball a candidate.  However, and this is a big however, the new person, or the person who is easily cowed, may not realize that!  Because so much of the talk around the process is about the perceived arbitrariness of the decisions and the vague standards, we get a self-perpetuating cycle.

Adding to the intimidation factor, there is this idea that Laurels are Paragons, that they are somehow all-knowing.  I can’t count the number of times a person has said to me, “I know you’re not supposed to question the Laurels, but…” And every time my response is, “Why the hell not? If you have evidence that supports what you’re saying, why CAN’T you question them?”  I had the opportunity to ask the person who most recently talked to me about the “you’re not supposed to question…” issue and learned that she had come to that belief because when she entered a garment in an A&S competition, she got the following comment on her scoring sheet (I am, of course, paraphrasing):

“As a Laurel, I know that this is not the way you do that one particular thing.”

And it was unsigned.  Was it a case of oversight on the part of an overworked judge?  Probably.  Was it a case of someone being too big for their britches?  Also a possibility.  But the recipient of this comment, who is by no means a) shy or b) a newbie to the Society still drew the conclusion that Laurel = do not question.  These are the stories that get around, not the ones where a Laurel takes an entrant under their wing, or gives positive, constructive criticism, or says, “Here’s how to get in touch with me if you want to talk more”.  And no matter how much I say “That’s nonsense – if you have research to back it up go out there and use it, and show it, and maybe you will sway them or maybe they will sway you, and maybe you will each learn something and make a new friend”, I sometimes feel like I’m one voice shouting against the wind.

So what can we do about it?  Where does the responsibility lie?  I understand that Dame Alys Katherine is offering a series of  classes entitled “De-mystifying the Peerage” at Pennsic this year, which is awesome – yet another thing I will miss about not being there.  But there is a lot that everyone in the A&S community can do to change the perceptions.  We can try to emphasize the positive, especially to those who are frightened of the process.  We can try to de-mystify things.  And we can call people on their bad behavior, both in and out of Order meetings.

*There is a pdf version of Corpora available for anybody who cares.  The relevant section is VIII-A (and it starts on page 20 in the June 2009 revision of corpora).