Unless I find convincing evidence that codpieces were used on venetians -- which I haven't -- my brown linen breeches will remain codpieceless.
The good news is, it is one less thing for me to do in order to finish the blasted thing.
Oh, I shouldn't be complaining. I tried it on last night, and it is looking pretty cool (the doublet, not the codpiece). Of course, I still have 6 handmade buttonholes to work, all the stuffed buttons to attach, the tabs need to be affixed, and I still need to cut and put together the epaulettes. (I am still debating on which type, but chances are they will just be the regular sort of "wings.")
At any rate, I finished about 3 buttonholes last night, while watching some of a Sci-Fi Channel movie called "Immortal." The premise of the movie is that the Egyptian god Horus returns to Earth on 2095, with only seven days to live, in search of a human woman who is not genetically modified and who can carry his child. A very intriguing premise. However, the film seems to be somebody's acid trip.
For one thing, most of the characters are CGI. Why? Go figure. Didn't they have money to pay for real actors? Was good make-up costlier than making up bad CGI characters? The world may never know.
The truth is, it is a very strange movie which makes very little sense, yet it is strangely satisfying. I liked the ending, at any rate, and the baby that eventually resulted out of the whole mess was absolutely . . .
Strangely enough that did make sense, and that's what counts.
Besides, the movie featured Charlotte Rampling, who was big in the 70's. Call it nostalgia, but I did like her a lot. Non surprisingly, she had a tendency of appearing in random, weird movies, such as Zardoz, which she probably wants to forget as it does not appear in her filmography.
Zardoz is a fantabulously bad movie. It even has its own place of honor in Badmovies.org. It not only features Rampling, but it also features a young Sean Connery, fresh out of his resignation as James Bond, in a loincloth, worshipping a giant stone head, and being pursued by naked women.
What's not to like?
My only regret: There is no such thing as a codpiece in a loincloth.
(Now, there's an interesting mental image.)
Hmmmm . . . codpieces and loincloths, the ultimate fashion statement . . .
I guess that mine will have to wait until I make the orange slops.