“You’re clearly your father’s daughter” is a sentiment I hear fairly frequently, in various forms.
If anyone could see me now, frantically developing whole new skillsets to finish a costume in the next 2.5 hours, they would realize I’m very much my mother’s daughter, as well.
I’m over here merrily busting my butt teaching myself basic leather working without proper tools so I can make a drop-leg penny-whistle holster (because obviously), and it turns out there were legit army surplus web belts, canteen, and drop-leg pouch in my little brother’s old dress up chest at my parents’ place.
Pros: They already look weathered and distressed and beat to shit! I don’t have to make them!
Cons: They smell like mothballs and the military clearly did not have pennywhistles in mind when designing their pouches.
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