One of my favorites, though, took place in Venice. Venice is a city located in Italy, where there are no cars to get around, instead, there's gondolas and water taxis. There's intricate water ways and rivers flowing through this city. Not to mention that Venice is expected to be entirely underwater in less than 50 years.
Photo taken in Venice near the docks, by Costo Photography (A.k.a. my mom, but everyone refers to her as Costo)
As a lot of you know, I'm a cosplayer, but I've always adored Lolita fashion. Ever since my cousin introduced it to me years and years ago, I've been head over heels in love with the style. So when I was in Paris, I begged my parents to take me to a BSSB store, and I bought my first Baby, the Stars Shine Bright dress.
Ironically, the dress I bought was called "Venice" and we were going to Venice on our trip, so I figured that I absolutely had to wear it while we were there. The only problem, though, was that I didn't have a cord. I had my Honoka Kousaka Candy cosplay with me, so I used the wig from there and the shoes and the stockings, but I was still missing an under shirt. So when we were in Florence, Italy, I bought one.
Okay, actually onto the story now.
After lacing up the bodice of the dress and slipping my feet into a pair of flats, I was ready to march down the streets and bridges of Venice in my Lolita - ish , cosplay-ish outfit. I flew down the steps of the hotel where I met my parents and older brother. My dad was testing his new selfie stick (he's a weird parent) while my mother had the Canon hanging over her neck. When she was younger, she used to be a professional photographer, so she takes nearly all of my photos (thanks, mom!).
Photo taken on a staircase in Venice, Italy. Thank you Costo, for the photo.
Right outside of our hotel, there was this staircase. I think it was a part of the Grand Cannel, since gondolas would frequently pass underneath it, but I'm not entirely sure. The bridge itself was very rustic looking, though, that might be the wrong word. It was made of this greyish colored stone and had pitch black railing.
Moving on, while we were passing through, my mother told me to go to the bottom of the staircase and climb upwards so she could get some motion shots. I happily obliged, climbing up the steps. My eyes were focused on the ground, though, careful that I didn't fall and land on my face in front of so many people (I had gathered a crowd thanks to my strange appearance... again).
"Okay," she said when I reached the top, "that was good, but let's try it again. This time, look at the camera."
"Oh, alright," I said, beginning to walk down the staircase. When I reached the bottom, I waited for my mother's signal and then began climbing up again. Only, this time, one of my shoes flew off of my foot. I was in the middle of getting my photo taken, so I took in a deep breathe and continued to move on. That was the one thing they taught me when I was in a fashion show; don't stop. No matter what, don't stop.
Right before I reached the top step, I heard a man call out from below me, "Cinderella, you lost a shoe!"
I looked over my shoulder down at him and grinned. It was the first time someone had referred to me as a Princess by name, and something about it caused my heart to race.
I hopped down a step, but by that time, a swarm of people started to circle around my shoe, and myself, and the bridge.
"Your shoe, Cinderella."
"Cinderella, you're forgetting something."
"Cinderella."
I hopped down another step on one foot. For some reason, I would always do this when I lost a shoe since I didn't want my white socks to get dirty.
"Mom," I heard a little voice say as I jumped past a little kid clinging to their parent, "is that a princess?"
When I finally reached my shoe, I slipped it on quickly, eyes glued to the floor. I tapped my toe on the ground, making sure that it fit properly, and then continued back up the staircase.
"Cinderella, you found your shoe," someone else exclaimed, tapping me on the shoulder as they brushed past.
For some reason, though, the name seemed to stick. Everywhere I went that night, I would hear people calling "Good evening, Cinderella," and "oh look, it's Cinderella!". And for the first time in a while, I felt really happy. Isn't that strange? I feel more comfortable being someone else than I have ever felt being myself.
But all good things must come to an end. And at some point, the clock always strikes midnight, and you're back to being nothing significant.
A bridge in Venice. Photo by Costo
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