Fursuiter

Much more than a costume…

All my life I had believed there was someone else inside my head, my other self hiding in the darkness of my unconscious. Of course I didn’t have a normal life, unlike other children who did. I spent my childhood and adolescence in a constant state of uncertainty, I was afraid my dreams would come true, it was the last thing I wanted to happen. The worst of all was discovering the whispers in my ears weren’t the product of a disorder, of course not, someone was really talking to me.
         The day I met a member of the anthropomorphist community, which haters called “the rapist plushies sect”, he explained to me that a repressed memory in me was what wanted to come out, but I was avoiding it. Out of fear or whim, the thing is that my other self never revealed its true identity in public. It was trying to tell me something, I knew it, it wanted to warn me of an imminent danger. I had to be very unwise to think everything was fine on my roof. As an only child, I never had a playmate. My only childhood companion had been a Siberian husky my father adopted when it was just a weaned puppy. Raised as a part of the family, it was the fourth member. The bad thing was that it didn’t last long, he kicked the bucket after turning ten. It always seemed unfair to me that man’s supposed best friend lives so little; dogs should live as long as we do. Luckily, all dogs go to Heaven.
         The day I finished my studies at school, everything seemed to calm down, I had finally managed to overcome the endless torment of student life. The worst was yet to come: university. “What career should I study? What should I do with my life? How would I support myself?”, were frequent questions that swarmed through my mind when everything was quiet. My parents didn’t have the means to give me everything I wanted, not to mention paying for a private university. We barely had enough to eat. By chance, I came across an advertisement on the street that caught my eye: “Wanted: a jester for children’s events”. I was stunned to think what that advertisement really meant. At first, I thought an event organization company was looking for a clown or fool who could entertain children, but then I realized it referred to something else.
         Upon closer inspection, I discovered they wanted to find a person who would play the role of a mascot, the kind that appears at sporting events and lends itself to publicity. I needed money, a lot of money to have a costume of that type made. I managed with tutorials on the Internet, I asked for help from my grandmother who was a professional seamstress and my grandfather who was a shoemaker and decorator. They helped me make a costume with which I was able to perform in the art of entertainment.
         With my fingers crossed and all the hope in the world, I put all my effort into my new costume. Remembering the family pet, it occurred to me that I could recreate a special costume with a canine design. I was putting together a husky costume, with all the details corresponding to that breed. The hardest part was getting the plush fabric to make it look like natural fur, it cost a fortune everywhere, though much less than a fur coat.
         On the other hand, I was worried about my development as a neophyte in the performing arts, I really didn’t know anything about theater or acting, the little I knew I had learned in school. I had to act to win over the audience, to make them believe it was worth paying to see me in person. I decided to take courses to improve my skills, to learn something new that would be useful to me if I was hired for what was required.
         The money I earned fulfilling the role of a mascot was not essential, although I did consider it’d not be crumbs as it happened in most occupations. A mascot is not a professional and it’s not necessary to be one either. The important thing was to learn to act like a mascot, to feel like one. I developed sketches of my alter ego, doodles rather, of how I’d look once my costume was finished. Nothing in the context could distract me.
         In a matter of weeks, I had really assimilated my character, the husky I invented myself. Once the training stage was over, I tried on the costume: the head, the legs, the hands and the tail. I put on my high school student uniform, which still fit me since I hadn’t grown a centimeter since I was fifteen. Once I became a mascot, I realized something incredible: that fictional being that had been living in my head was the same anthropomorphic dog I had in front of the mirror. I felt strange for a moment, as if I were an animal with human qualities. I blushed.
         Amazed by the final result, I set out to test my new knowledge for the next job interview. The long-awaited day arrived early and I ran away, anxious to see what would happen. A strange person asked me all sorts of questions when he called me from his office. Upon inspecting my costume and reviewing my blank resume, he frowned and replied he was not entirely satisfied with the proposal. Apparently, I was too young to fill the vacancy that was available. The requirements were ridiculously excessive for someone who had the simple task of dancing in front of children. As if it were that difficult!
         That day I was extremely frustrated, I almost burst into tears when I saw I had not managed to get what I had hoped for. My parents were also affected by seeing me sad, they assumed it was still too early to give up. They asked me not to lose my cool, that one day I’d find a good use for this costume I had put together from scratch with all the savings I had. I thanked my grandparents for helping me, without them I would’ve not been able to make such a charming costume.
         I was a little worried about what would happen if I went out into the street wearing this thing: “Will they boo me? Will they make fun of me? Will they try to hurt me? Will they insult me? Will they defame me? Will they try to intimidate me?” There were thousands of things I asked myself in that discordant moment. I didn’t know what to expect from others, I assumed they’d say all kinds of rude things to me.
         Months had to pass before I dared to go outside with my costume on. I was already in the first semester of the visual arts career, and I often visited the library and the buffet on the ground floor. After seeing so many cool guys, geeks in general, I came to the conclusion I was not the only weirdo in the group. There was such a variety of tastes and fashions that a dog costume wouldn’t look so outlandish after all.
         It was right during the recess season, when the sports days among different universities in the country were starting, when brochures about new outdoor activities came out. I contacted one of the organizers, one who worked in the dean’s office, and asked him about the subject of university mascots. He told me the university didn’t have one, so I told him I could be the first to go down in history.
         After a few days, they told me I could apply to propose the new mascot. With my costume on, I went to the office and told them I dreamed of being the mascot on duty. My last negative experience after being rejected for a job had left a bad taste in my mouth and I no longer wanted to apply for that job. Now I was content to represent an educational institution. Mascot or fursuiter? I didn’t care what they called me, all I wanted was to wear that beautiful costume that had cost me so much to make. I had broken my piggy bank for something, right?
         When I was given the opportunity to represent the university in the sports field, I became the official mascot of the institution. On the first day, I showed up at the park where the other athletes met to present the teams with each member and their coach. I felt great seeing no one was scared to see me in costume, they didn’t even whistle at me. It was a dream come true, but different from what I used to dream about. At last I felt normal among so many people coming and going from one place to another.
         I showed up in the front row next to one of the delegates, I asked to have my photos taken with the people invited so I could be known. I had a great time with the other students, they couldn’t take their eyes off me for anything in the world, they were fascinated by my costume as much as I was. It wasn’t just a dog, of course, it was a prestigious mascot, a real mascot made of flesh and blood. What else could I ask for?
         I realized that, in reality, it doesn’t matter what some people say or think about you, the ideal is to have enough courage to leave your comfort zone and face the situation. I didn’t feel ashamed of myself at any time, which made it clear I was doing a good job.