A gentle case for keeping track of what happens between convention weekends.

cosplay between conventions

There's a particular kind of quiet that settles in after a convention ends. The adrenaline fades, your costume goes back into storage, and suddenly you're sitting at home with a half-finished wig still on your desk and a list of alterations you promised yourself you'd make. This is the time most of us don't talk about, but it's where the real work of cosplay happens. It's where we figure out what we're building next, what we learned from the last costume, and how to keep the spark alive when there's no convention weekend in sight. Cosplay between conventions is where makers become craftspeople, where small decisions compound into finished pieces, and where your own story as a cosplayer really takes shape.

A few weeks ago, I talked with someone who had started keeping a simple cosplay journal after their first convention season. They told me they felt lost between events, unsure if they were actually improving or just spinning their wheels with new ideas that never went anywhere. So they grabbed a notebook and started sketching. Nothing fancy, just quick drawings of costume concepts alongside lists of what they'd need. A picture of the character on one side, materials on the other. After a few pages, something clicked. They could see their own progress. They could flip back to a costume from six months earlier and remember exactly why they'd changed the neckline or swapped fabrics. More importantly, they could see patterns in what they made well and what they struggled with.

What struck me most was how the journal became a conversation with themselves. Between conventions, when the pressure to perform is gone, there's space to actually think about craft. They started adding sketches in watercolor, printing out reference photos they'd found, writing notes about techniques they wanted to try. Some pages were messy. Some had crossed-out ideas. A few had the kind of little victory notes that only make sense to the person who wrote them: "finally figured out how to attach this without it showing" or "this dye job came out better than expected." The journal wasn't precious. It was working.

What made this especially meaningful was how it connected one costume to the next. They could see themselves building skills deliberately instead of accidentally. A tricky seaming technique learned on one project became the foundation for something more ambitious three months later. A color combination that didn't quite work informed a better choice on the next build. The journal became a bridge between conventions, a way to stay engaged with the craft even when there were no deadlines or stage lights on the horizon.

I think a lot of us underestimate the power of simply documenting what we're doing. We think cosplay happens at conventions, and everything in between is just waiting. But the in-between is where you're actually learning, experimenting, and building the skills that make your work better. A journal, whether it's a few pages in a notebook or a more structured planning sheet, gives you permission to take that time seriously. It says: this matters. You matter.

Whether you're someone who loves writing things down or someone who's never kept a journal in your life, there's something valuable in pausing between projects to reflect on what you're making and why. It doesn't have to be elaborate. A simple sketch and a list can be enough. The point is creating a space where you can track your own growth as a maker, notice patterns in what works for you, and hold onto the small moments that make cosplay meaningful.

We'd love to hear about your process. How do you keep track of your cosplay work between conventions? Do you sketch, take photos, keep notes, or use some other method entirely? And if you've never tried documenting your builds, what would make you want to start?

February and March bring a wonderful stretch of regional conventions and smaller gatherings where cosplayers gather to share work and connect. Whether you're debuting a new costume or working on a piece you'll finish later, these are great opportunities to see what others are building and get inspired for your own projects.

Spring Costume Con 46, March 2026, Denver, Colorado. A gathering focused on historical and fantasy costuming with workshops and community.

Anime Expo Lite, April 2026, Los Angeles, California. A smaller spring event perfect for testing new builds before larger summer conventions.

Retro Con, May 2026, Phoenix, Arizona. A celebration of nostalgia costumes and vintage fandom with a maker-friendly atmosphere.

Midwest Comic Con, May 2026, Chicago, Illinois. Regional convention with strong local cosplay community and vendor halls.

Coastal Maker Meetup, June 2026, Portland, Oregon. Informal outdoor gathering for cosplayers and crafters to share works in progress.

If you found yourself nodding along to this week's story, or if you've got your own journal sitting on a shelf somewhere, please forward this to a cosplay friend who would appreciate the reminder that the work between conventions is just as important as the conventions themselves. We're building a community of people who care about the craft and the process, not just the final performance.

Hit reply and tell us where you are in your own cosplay season right now. Are you in the thick of a build? Taking a breather between projects? Just starting to sketch out what comes next? We want to know what's on your workbench and what's on your mind. This newsletter is a conversation, and we're genuinely excited to hear from you.

Reply with your stories, photos, and questions for a future issue.