This year was my first Comic Con. And I have to say, I'm sad that I haven't come to one sooner. We all have those deep, dark, secret obsessions over video games, comics, or anime. Basically everyone falls into at least one of those categories of obsession, if not more than one; if they aren't, then they would were they exposed to it. The New York Comic Con is a chance for every person to embrace that obsession with pride alongside other closet nerds. They are then joined by not-closet, more open nerds, making for quite an eclectic mob united by their
obsession.The numbers that turn out for the Con are immaculate. So many people are present, young and old, some in elaborate costumes, some decked in merch, some just dressed normally. I struggled through crowds of Pokemon and Zeldas, getting stopped repeatedly to get my picture taken. I nabbed a few shots of my own with the likes of the Silver Surfer, Wario, and some anime
cosplayers. It's amazing how high the enthusiasm is, how low the shame is, how everyone is not themselves.That element of a second, perfect identity is what gives the Comic Con its allure. The anime chicks and video game characters and superheroes are written to stand for something. They are visually trademarked, fabulously colored and styled, loved by all. And by going to Comic Con, you can get the chance to be one of them just by putting on their costume. It serves as a reminder to me of the visual and psychological power of costume and fashion in general; it changes not only who people perceive you to be, but also how you perceive yourself.
