Comic Con Pervs

For the record, my Brony friend says I am a Rainbow Dash.

Click the link to his site; there are a number of "peepers" to be found. A man after my own heart! He has employed the use of some really informative graphics too!

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SDCC is rapidly approaching, and amidst the stress of figuring out my flight, hotel, booth duty, and what the hell I'm going to wear so I don't feel uncomfortable but also don't look crappy for 4 days...I'm thinking about two incidents that happened at my first SDCC (which is about 5 years ago now, maybe even 6) that have forever colored the way I view it and every other convention I attend, and likely will attend, for the foreseeable future. In short: during the 2nd night, at the Hyatt, I experienced two separate physically and sexually threatening situations. The first was a groping that I was too shocked to register until the next day. The other was being cornered, touched, and made uncomfortable by two drunk men. Both left me feeling shaken, upset, and like I had done something wrong. I kept thinking: how did I get in that situation? What did I do to provoke it? What mistakes had I made? How did I allow this to happen? Why didn't I make a huge scene? Basically, I immediately started blaming myself for being a woman who did not prevent someone else from making me an object. Something that I had absolutely no control over, did not deserve, and yet still feel responsible for in some way, to this day. First, the groping. I was standing with a group of fellow professionals I had worked with for years. Most of them I knew quite well, one not very well. They were all drinking, I was not. I suddenly felt a hand trail down my back and cup my right...er...posterior. My stomach immediately flip flopped and I turned to the guy, shocked. He was talking to someone else and then stumbled away. He did not look at me once. I said nothing, because I had already started telling myself it hadn't really happened, I must have imagined it, who does that, no way. The second happened about an hour later. I had drifted away from the group I had been talking to, to write an idea down in my sketchbook. I was against one of the large windows. There were many groups of people around, as there usually are. I did not notice the two men until they were towering over me. I was stuck and felt very small and uncomfortable. I looked around to see if anyone I knew was close by, but they weren't, and in any case, couldn't see me because these two men had neatly blocked me from view. I didn't know them at all and, the clearest thought I can remember when I realized I was cornered, is that I wished I was wearing my boots. I had left them at home because they're a pain to deal with at the airport. I was wearing flats after a day of standing on my feet, and I suddenly felt about two feet tall (I'm actually a little over five feet tall). They started asking me what I was so intent about, why was I so serious, what was I doing at SDCC, was I a friend of someone there. I said, no, I'm an editor. This was a mistake as they were then curious about why a girl worked in comics. They moved closer. I backed up, but there wasn't anywhere to go. I could tell they had been drinking, likely a lot, and for some reason I felt compelled to be...nice. I was scared to be mean or just get away, afraid they'd get mad or rough. I felt like I was stuck to the sidewalk. One of them men reached out and touched the front of my jacket, telling me I looked like a Tim Burton character. He tried to run his hand down the stripes and that's when I unfroze. All I could think of to do, because for whatever reason I just couldn't yell, I said...oh, I see some people I know, bye. And I quickly moved away. I had to squeeze myself against the window and duck. I practically ran to open the door and went up to my hotel room where I proceeded to have a very hard time sleeping. My mind raced. I had every cliche thought you can think of. Had I been wearing something "wrong"? Not unless you think being covered from neck to ankles in baggy black, with a striped jacket is "revealing". Had I somehow suggested I wanted attention? Not unless being shy and a little freaked out at my first SDCC indicates that. Had I acted inappropriately? Other than a bit awestruck and not drinking (which might be considered weird at a convention), no. Had I, in short, done something to deserve what happened? Although I am rationally aware I did not, and that you can't "deserve" being objectified in any case...emotionally, I was convinced I had done something wrong. Namely: that I had moved away from people for a brief moment, thereby allowing myself to be in an unpleasant situation. I had not been vigilant. I had not been "smart". The groping I felt less responsible for, because it had just...happened. And I was sort of convincing myself it hadn't, like somehow someone's hand would trail down your back and cup your ass by accident. I just couldn't process it. And it didn't occur to me at the time that experiencing both in one night was perhaps a lot to deal with and that I was having a panic attack. I felt sick, I remember that. The rest of the convention I didn't really go out at night. I avoided the bar. I was at my industry's largest event, with all kinds of people I admired right downstairs...and I was scared to leave my room. I felt wrong, that's the only way I can describe it. I spent the rest of the convention nervous, on edge, and not because of how big it is or the fact that it was the first time I'd been there. That was overwhelming enough. I had wanted to be this strong, independent professional...and instead I felt like a groped, disrespected, thing. 

Never before has the other side been so well represented. Let's see what this gentlemanly scholar has to say, shall we?

From "OPfuckU":

The purpose of hot costumes is to look hot YOU STUPID BISH, and a guy appreciating it and giving admiration not make them "pervs".   Any one who thinks that preventing a guy taking a photo will get them women, it wont, your tactic will backfire, women do not like nice guys. I bet you anything I am a happier person "learing" at hot peaces of ass in hot costumes at a con than you fucks that drag any one else through the mud for doing so.  Woman who want nice guys do not where skanky fucking slut clothes. What we are the "BAD GUYS" for wanting to stare when a woman has the tops of her tits hanging out for all to see or even for taking a picture you have to be kidding me. That's my fav argument, REALLY, and it usually comes from a fucking UGLY ASS SLUT that NO ONE WANTS to LOOK AT and you are just jealous. You bitches take any excuse to dress like a whore but bitch becouse some one took the opportunity to do what you obvs wanted, and that is look. So yes I will lear and yes you can call me a perv. If I see you and I like what I see I will take a fucking photo. That is the point.

--

I was searching Flickr just now, to see if there might be any candid shots someone had uploaded from GenCon or Comic Con, and came across a set called Hot Chubs at GenCon. And it's..... a lot of photos of heavyset men that were taken without their knowledge and surely without their consent.

It's..... weird. I don't know what the fuck to make of this one. Strictly based on the photoset I wondered if it was all a humiliation thing instead of a fetish, but no, according to his profile, "My pictures range from the mundane, to the pornographic, to the profane, to the artistic. I like to snipe pictures of fat guys."

OH SNAP!

A reader submission, with photo AND story attached!

From Blythe:

I'm part of a comedy group that performs at several cons through the year.  The most recent was last weekend at GenCon.  Our outfits usually consist of athletic shorts and the t-shirts that we sell.  Some of our friends noticed a creeper taking MULTIPLE pics of our red head's ass while we chatted in a circle.  The guy even moved around to get different angles.  Our friends moved my red head to the other side of the circle and he disappeared.  I grabbed a camera phone, put her back in her original spot (butt out) and he reappeared.  You can see him over her shoulder snapping away again.

I'll try to keep an eye open (and camera available!) for these idiots on our travels.  I think what you're doing is good.  Really good!---

So, I was checking the dates for the NYCC and it's October 13-16. Hrm. I'm obviously free that weekend-- in my case, being a "freelance" artist means "I am woefully unemployed at the moment"-- but I'm hesitant to plunk down money to go in. I used to live up there! The Javits Center was maybe 45 minutes from my apartment, and we actually exhibited in 2009. I already had a reason to be at SDCC-- we were exhibiting-- so I was already gonna be there, and so this project wasn't any skin off my nose. I like to get back to the city a few times a year but I'm just not sure I can do it in October.

So-- any of you reading this who do live in the city, or will be heading to NYC for the show-- can you be my eyes? Or, I mean, can your camerphone be my cameraphone?

Because I won't.

I haven't been to Wizard World before, actually, so I don't know if it is heavy on the dudes creeping on teen cosplayers, or booth babes, or whatever. But if you will be up there, and you're so inclined, keep an eye out! Anyone who sends me a photo ( [email protected]), I'll post it here.

Oh right! I forgot this shot; it was sent to me from artist @geoffsebesta.

The ones with an asterisk are things I heard/saw; everything else came from my Twitter feed or were emailed to me.

*Forgot to mention; there was a bespectacled man outside Hall C saying in a flat monotone, "oh baby, oh baby" to every woman that walked by.

-@jerslater: Creepy nerd tries to roll up a dollar and slip it in booth babe's shirt. "Thass for you," he lisps. I walk off, laughing hysterically.

-@DavidUzumeri: Just saw a dude with a painting of Chloe moretz as hitgirl posing under sheets in a bed possibly nude. Want to punch both him and the artist  (WTF; this still gets me-- I wish I knew who would complete such a fucked up commission)

*OH: dude preparing to take photos of 2 cosplaying chicks adjusting their tops: "oh, yeah, keep adjusting.

-OH: Steampunk weirdo gesturing towards Steampunk lady's boobs 10 feet away, "those are some peaches in a basket".

-@jephjacques: Pretty girl posing with R2-D2. Creepy motherfucker standing behind her, photographing her ass.

-@kittykatemeow: Dear Men at Comic Con, I don't mind taking a picture for you, but doing it candid while im waiting in line is just creepy (i believe she went to the con dressed as leia)

-@nerdabouttown: Just seen: She-Ra slightly bent, getting something from her bf's bag, fat nerd quickly taking cellphone shot of her butt

*I just passed a white guy who keeps bowing to Asian girls as they walk by. Ech

My first night there, Preview Night, I left the table to go to the restroom. I passed two large men. I am only 5'4, so most creatures over 5'8 register as large with me. Anyway, they seemed large. I walked past them, minding my own business and bladder, and right as I passed by, I heard the one with a goatee say under his breath, "Day-um lookit them titties".

Hilariously, despite "gearing up" to take photos and tweet about this very shit, I completely blanked on anything to say. I just stopped in my tracks and stared after them. I saw him say something for his friend's benefit and when they both looked back I gave them my very best Evil Eye (i can look really fucking mean). The first one looked taken aback/surprised, but they kept walking. I was momentarily mad at myself for not chasing them or unleashing a barrage of insults--that's typically my M.O--but I ended up just laughing. Because WTF. We were a half hour into Comic Con. I realized then too that not everything could be documented, unless I and every woman at the show were to be equipped with a wire. And I didn't have that great of a budget. So.

In similar news, I found myself walking through the food truck lot over at 1st Avenue, and as I passed a dude who referred to my boobs as "thangs". I can't really remember the context but seriously? This time I didn't forget that I am typically incredibly foul-mouthed and yelled at him, calling him an asshole, without breaking stride. I muttered a "Sorry" to the shocked teenage girl that was standing near me. I'm sure I looked like a total nutcase, but that's the problem with some women: they're too afraid to LOOK like a nutcase, so they don't call out people who offend them. And so a guy will comment on your "thangs" or your ass, and you don't say anything, so they'll say something to the next girl, and the next woman, and they don't change their behavior, because no one is showing them it's wrong. ***

That was pretty much it, as things related strictly to me. It's actually sort of sad when you look at a stretch of 4.5 days and you only get verbally harassed twice, and you think, "wow, that wasn't bad at all!" because you expected worse.

Before you say anything: I was gone. Okay? I was gone, away from a computer, and hanging out on a raft on a lake, and I was drinking and there were birds singing and it was great, just great. So I didn't post any pictures from Comic Con. Here they are now, just as the con and I have faded from your collective memory.

Tropical Shirt Guy! Right! I forgot about this guy. Despite his not looking like the most athletic gentleman, he ran up, nearly trampling a child (or was it Seth Green?) at the toy collector booth at the end of the row, then stopping abruptly to get off at least two shots of some Booth Babe Asses.

Here's my thing about the Booth Babes-- they're in bikinis; they're dressed to get attention for whatever product they're pushing. They, as they are paid to be, are engaging with the attendees and often will take photos. Yes, I got an eyeful that weekend, and yes, they are likely just as aware as you and I that people are grody and they are going to be exposed to some grodiness. It doesn't change the fact that a full-grown man fucking running 20 yards because they saw a glimpse of flesh shimmering in the distance like an oasis in a desert in order to pull out a camera with a zoom lens and zero in on the target is just WEIRD.

Oh, and here's another one. This is the one where the guy took so long zooming in, and adjusting his composition that I had time to get my phone, stand up, walk around my table, walk about oh, 25 feet, turn, and take his photo. He was still snapping photos. I distinctly heard him say to his friend, grinning, "I'm trying to get the ass."

So, it's over. I'm back home. It's hot as fuck here. I've finally found time to get to an actual computer. So.... okay, let me talk a little about the con.

I had suspected this would be a difficult thing to actually chronicle via photography, and I was right. After all, it takes but a second to whip out a camera and take a photo. And if you're not already stalking a cosplay girl or booth babe, or able to anticipate just the right time that they either strike a pose for someone else, or bend over to retrieve something from a bag, or tie a shoe, or whatever, you are going to run into trouble being quick enough to catch a guy in the act of taking a photo. Plus, as I realized on Preview Night, there are always dudes saying shit to you under their breath, just for your benefit as you walk past them. So that's something you can't take a photograph of. Or well, even prove. I can list everything people said to me or that I overheard being said about others, but I can't prove it.

The first photo I posted was apparently of Power Girl, and it had a pretty clear shot of her butt. Granted, she dressed her butt in such a way that a lot of it was showing, but in taking a photo of the dude sneaking his butt-shot (and then looking around, shamefully), my photo became a butt-shot. I'd previously looked for a good photo manipulation app that perhaps I could use to blot out certain "parts", but hadn't come up with anything. A guy on Twitter named @jarod helpfully Photoshopped a button another user, @Paradisacorbasi, had made for this very situation. Because I was relying on the spotty connection in San Diego and just a phone, I didn't manage to replace the photo here on Tumblr with the Photoshopped one until today. It's kind of a slippery slope, I guess. Finding the situations to take photos of, but trying not to take a photo of the chicks being objectified in the first place. Someone suggested I was a troll for posting that picture, and I felt bad for that. Since that situation I managed--and people sending me photos--to avoid getting asses in the photos. I'm gonna post those here later, also with some anecdotes.

I got a lot of responses to this project though, and for the most part, they were positive. I'm certainly not expecting this to have ~CHANGED THE FACE~ of cons or anything like that. And though I jokingly tried to get an invite on Twitter to the Playboy party based on the steam I was gathering (i didn't get one), I wasn't really trying to "get far in the industry" based on this. I mean... what industry? I'm a character designer/illustrator. I don't think this would get me too far. I gave a couple of interviews, which was surreal, and I had one couple recognize me based on the backdrop of several of my photos. That was funny. I liked the fact that maybe people were paying more attention to the fact that this happens, and it shouldn't. But it'll still happen at the next con, and sexual harassment will still happen everywhere else. Sad thing is, I was posting under a male nom de plume on Twitter, because I knew that if certain trolls ascertained that I was a female, it'd open me up to a special kind of misogyny reserved for ladies on the internet. It wasn't a SECRET though; I said as much here. I've since changed my name on there to my real, female name. That came after some people were snarking about what a pathetic "dude" I must be on some forum I came across.

Anyway, I have more to post, and I shall; I'm getting over the slight jet lag, and readjusting to not having anything to do. So I'll come back to this tumblr later.