When you visit a Renaissance Faire, people like to tell you how long they’ve been coming, how many fairs and festivals they visit in a year, what their job was when they worked here, what the after-parties are like. Nobody says the words authentic, historical, or—despite the lute and tabor processions led by jesters—medieval. People love working on outfits, seeing friends, the leather/paper/metal-crafts. Also the fighting knights, the weapons, gnawing on turkey legs, the bodices. The big cat shows and the falcons with gobbets of meat. Checking out the elves. Being someone else.
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