Back in the Day... Like, Two Centuries Back
We were walking through the Cow Palace the other day -- that giant warehouse-ish building, way south of the Mission, where they have rodeos and exhibitions and stuff -- when who should walk past us but a tall man with an ivy wreath on his head, luxuriant flowing white hair, and majestic robes. He was holding by the arm a small, whimpering man in a dressing gown, and he was saying something like, "look, Ebeneezer, at all these holiday revelers," or whatever.
It was a surreal moment in a surreal place: for the next few days, the Cow Palace has been transformed into a (slightly Disneyfied) 19th century London, complete with moody lighting, creaky buildings, top hats, ruffles, hook skirts, meat pies, and lots of accents reminiscant of Dick Van Dyke in Mary Poppins. We went hoping that it would be like that episode where Geordi and Data recreate a Sherlock Holmes environment on the Holodeck, and we were pleasantly surprised to find that it didn't really disappoint; it really felt like being transported to, if not a Holodeck, then at least a very well-put-together TV show set.
In addition to the ren-fairy characters walking about (our favorite was a fat, bug-eyed man in a top hat and cape, stumbling down the aisles of stalls and cackling evilly), there's plenty of stuff to buy, or eat, or simply look at. Some of our favorite vendors included "Miss Darla's Dolls Gone Wrong" and "Velvet Bedlam" and "Holzer and Combe Haberdashery" (all clothing stores), "Mme. Louise's Hair Braiding," where you could get your tresses prettily tangled, a gypsyish fortune teller, "Roddington's Brewery" and "Cripple's Pub," and a christmas party being hosted by Fezziwig himself. Also good: "Elemental Nonsensibilities School of Craft," where you could create your own soaps and bath bombs, and a "Boot the Cat" stall, where you win prizes for throwing boots at a cat.
It was an odd mix of contemporary and anachronism, and that dichotomy (ugh, please shoot us for using that word) may have been our favorite part. For example, we observed a wispy man in beggarish rags teaching a small child in a sweatshirt how to be a pickpocket -- "you must have fast fingers, my dear," he said, and dazzled, she murmured, "okay." And then there was a man decked out in 1800s finery ... riding one of those motorized wheelchair Rascal thingies. We observed credit-card swipers, tastefully concealed by doilies. And perhaps our favorite part: the entire affair appeared to have been sponsored by a local window/cabinet manufacturer, and you had to walk through an advertising tent in order to enter the fair. It was odd to see as we approached; but after emerging from the sooty fog of 200 years ago, it seemed completely insane.
The Great Dickens Christmas Fair runs this weekend and next at the Cow Palace. We reluctantly recommend using your City CarShare membership to get there, as parking is ample and the MUNI trip is fairly crapulent. Lots more surreal pix of the event are available on our Flickr account.