Archive for the 'DIY' Category

Halloween, 1977: Homemade Chewbacca Costume

Halloween Chewie 1977

Ass-kicker and name-taker Chip Guesman sent in this classic a few months ago. He says:

This was in Rices Landing PA (about 60 miles south of Pittsburgh). My mother made the costume by sewing individual strips of heavy plastic trash bags to a jumpsuit… I remember her staying up all night sewing it by hand for the Halloween parade at school (back when you were allowed to have such a thing!)…

The mask is from the 1976 Ben Cooper King Kong costume. Don’t forget to read the sign.

Thanks, Chip!

Halloween, 1982: Homemade Pac-Man Costume

Halloween Pac-Man 1982

(Photo via Timothy Davis/Flickr)

Halloween, 1978: Battlestar Galactica

Battlestar Galactica, 1978

Shawn Smith, Colonial Warrior. Not sure how he’s going to fit into that Viper, though.

Halloween, 1983: Homemade Atari Computer Costume

Halloween Atari 1983

See the modem?

(Photo via thincvox/Flickr)

Homemade Dungeons & Dragons T-Shirt, Circa 1981

D&D Shirt 1981-1

D&D Shirt 1981-2

D&D Shirt 1981-3

D&D Shirt 1981-4

Friends, what we’ve got here is a two-tone western pattern t-shirt (what?) adorned with a glitter outlined Boris Vallejo iron-on transfer and fuzzy blue iron-on letters that nearly, but not exactly, match the blue “collar.” Do we think Toad refers to the original owner’s level 15 halfling thief? Other theories? I’ll tell you what: if one of the below illustrations—glitter outlined, naturally—graced the back of the shirt under the word in question, I would buy the fucking thing and eat Top Ramen for the rest of the month.

Holloway Toad

Sutherland Toad

Another homemade D&D t-shirt here.

(T-shirt images via eBay seller I HEART Danger Vintage; giant toad images via Zenopus Archives)

Scott Adams and Adventure International, 1982

Adams MH 5-21-82

Adams MH 5-21-82-2

Adams MH 5-21-82-3

The photos are from a 1982 Miami Herald story and show Adams inside and outside Adventure International’s Longwood, Florida headquarters. According to an interview I found in Antic, Adams moved into the “custom-built geodesic dome” in 1979. By summer of 1983 Adventure International had 40 employees and, according to The Free Lance-Star, was a “multi-million dollar company.” Many of Adams’ classic games appear in the second photo, including Adventureland.

Geodesic domes are largely DIY and “often identified with the counterculture of the 1960s and 1970s.”

Homemade Starship Enterprise Bridge, 1977






Chew on this, Minecraft. It looks like they’ve repurposed a room in the house, possibly the basement.

The photos are from Nick DeWolf’s Flickr. DeWolf (1928 – 2006) co-founded Teradyne, an automatic test equipment manufacturer, in 1960. He was also an engineer, an inventor, and a hell of a photographer.

Dungeons & Dragons Club, Circa 1980

D&D Club 1980

The sign is cut off (and `Dungeons’ is misspelled!), but we’re looking at an AD&D club, hence all the core books and Tramp’s Dungeon Master’s Screen on proud display.

That’s got to be a homemade shirt in the middle, right? It’s not any TSR dragon that I’ve seen.

Our teacher rep, the only woman involved in the proceedings, seems quite happy to be there. I wonder what she thought at the time.

(Photo via Story Games forums)

Godzilla Fan Club Newsletters, 1977

Godzilla NL 1977-3

Godzilla NL 1977-1

Godzilla NL 1977-2

In Famous Monsters of Filmland #132 (March, 1977), an advertisement appeared for a Godzilla Fan Club. The ad was placed by a gentleman named Richard Campbell.

Nathan Fox, a young Godzilla nut who saw the ad and immediately subscribed, saved all five newsletters (called “fan letters”) produced by Campbell and his team. The detail I left out is that Campbell was 17 or 18 at the time he placed the ad and produced, by hand, the fan letters, all of which have been scanned by Fox in various formats. Read the amazing story and see the letters at Fox’s site.

Could this have been the first American Godzilla fan club? It’s unlikely, but if there had been others in plain sight, I doubt Campbell would have placed his ad (you can see that on Fox’s site as well).

As I’ve said many times before, we were a generation of fans when being a fan meant more than compulsively advertising the fact to the world. It meant building working monuments and monographs to our sources of inspiration.

UPDATE: Japanese film and pop culture scholar August Ragone (Eiji Tsuburaya: Master of Monsters: Defending the Earth with Ultraman, Godzilla, and Friends in the Golden Age of Japanese Science Fiction Film) weighs in on Godzilla fan clubs in the U.S.:

Yep, I had one. The “Godzilla Fan Club” was promoted on both “Creature Features” and “Captain Cosmic” on KTVU-2, since I was serving as their teenaged “Godzilla/Japanese Film Expert.” The beloved host, Bob Wilkins, set it up for me and we ran with it…

The first kit was printed in blue and included a fan club member’s certificate (with artwork by Dennis Lancaster), a newsletter with a cut-out membership card, and a photo of Godzilla. The second wave included a new certificate (with all new artwork by Lancaster), a new newsletter and new cut-out membership card, and a new photo of Godzilla…

And I do recall seeing another “Godzilla Fan Club” in an earlier issue of “Famous Monsters” — possibly in the early-to-mid 1970s (perhaps between 1974-1976). There may also have been one or two advertised in the Want Ad section of “The Monster Times.”

Thanks again, August!


This Book of Homemade D&D Modules Is Better Than Anything Anyone Has Ever Built on Minecraft

Habitation Cover 2013

Last year, when I featured Mikey Walters’ homemade D&D modules from 1981, I wondered how many similar old school epics were out there, buried in family attics and basements, one or two small-scale campaigns away from rediscovery. Was there a responsible way to solicit these now historic documents? More important, was there a responsible way to preserve them? The answer is yes, to both questions. The Play Generated Map & Document Archive (PlaGMaDA for short), founded and managed by Tim Hutchings, “collects, preserves and interprets documents related to game play – especially tabletop role playing games and computer games.” People like you and me donate our “play generated cultural artifacts,” and they’re stored in the archives—PlaGMaDA is partnered with The Strong Museum—for all time.

Gaius Stern’s Habitation of the Stone Giant Lord, written and illustrated by the 14-year-old author in 1982, was one such donation. Hutchings decided to combine “Dungeon Module G2²” with seven other D&D-styled adventures, including two of Walters’ modules, and publish them in a book (funded by a successful Kickstarter campaign): The Habitation of the Stone Giant Lord and Other Adventures from Our Shared Youth (2013).

Hab 1

Detail from Habitation of the Stone Giant Lord, by Gaius Stern

If you’re even a little bit intrigued by the early days of tabletop role-playing and/or the emergent “kid culture” of the time, you will find yourself spellbound by the more than 100 pages inside. (Seriously, someone will need to hit you with a Dispel Magic; otherwise you’ll forget to go to work and feed the kids.) The dedication and detail on display in each of the (playable!) modules is uniquely impressive, and more than that, the authors had no other motive than the challenge, the joy of play, and the promise of sharing their work with fellow adventurers. Some of the writing is damn convincing, too. Here’s a selection from The Lair of Turgon, by Todd Nilson:

The doors, both into and out of this room, are jet black with silver runes upon them. The runes are non-magical: they are an ancient form of cuneiform which relate the eulogy given at Turgon’s burial. A seal of gold had welded the doors shut, but they have evidently been broken by some incredibly powerful force. The hall itself is of granite construction; depicted in bas-relief are scenes from Turgon’s life, from early childhood until his death. This hallway is inhabited by six shadows: more servants of Madros.

The late ’70s and early ’80s saw an explosion of creative energy from young people, who were so deeply inspired by the many novelties and innovations surrounding them that they designed and stitched elaborate costumes from scratch after sketching the real deal inside darkened movie theaters, shot their own Super 8 movies (all of which are better than J.J. Abrams’ Super 8), wrote and drew their own graphic novels, programmed their own (playable!) video games, and, as we see here, wrote, drew, and likely DMed their own fantasy role-playing adventures.


Stone Castle/Castle Stone from Stone Death, by Richard C. Benson

Jon Peterson, the author of what many consider to be the definitive history of wargames and role-playing games, Playing at the World, wrote the excellent introduction to Habitation. Before breaking down each of the featured home-brewed adventures, noting (compellingly) where the creators borrowed from the Monster Manual or the Fiend Folio, what D&D edition was used as a foundation, and so on, Peterson takes us on a comprehensive tour through the early years of TSR, from the company’s beginning promise of making us “authors and architects” of our own fantasies, to the introduction of the adventure module format that Peterson finds somewhat antithetical to that original promise. “When we purchase and rely on a module,” he writes, “are we letting TSR do our imagining for us?”

It’s a fair question, and he says of the works in Habitation that

Each of them, in its own way, illustrates the tension between the commercialization of adventure scenarios and the original invitation of D&D to invent and collaborate and share.

And later:

Players were not content to have TSR do their imagining for them, and when the production of pre-packaged modules began, players responded by positioning themselves as creators of modules and thus as peers of TSR, rather than mere consumers.

Ultimately, I don’t agree with his conclusion. First, I don’t think any of the young authors featured in Habitation were “positioning” themselves to be anything; the modules look to me like a labor of love and, if anything, an homage to and emulation of TSR, as Peterson himself mentions elsewhere. Second, the module format was a signal innovation that expanded the role-playing genre and broadened the player base. Gamers young and old continue to run, tweak, perfect, and be inspired by the likes of The Keep on the Borderlands and Dark Tower. Third, as I’ve argued elsewhere, all D&D products—be it the original set of 1974 or the Dragonlance franchise—are commercial products. TSR certainly did reach a point—in 1982/1983, in my opinion—at which building and inflating the D&D brand took precedence over crafting quality “products of your imagination.” I believe this is Peterson’s larger point, and it’s well taken.


A page from The Tomb of the Areopagus the Cloaked and Japheth of the Mighty Staff, by Michael M. Hughes

What makes the work collected in Habitation so historic, and Peterson talks about this as well, is that it captures how real players approached D&D at a time when “playing mind games with dice,” to use Chris Hart’s phrase, was so profoundly untried. The game gave young people such an unprecedented amount of imaginative freedom, in fact, that it became a malignant bogeyman to those who rejected the idea that young people deserved any freedom, and who were terrified of dreamers and freethinkers of all ages.

In short, please consider getting yourself a copy of Habitation right here, and have a look through PlaGMaDA’s incredible archive right over here. And after that, maybe you’ll delve into those musty trunks and dot matrix computer paper boxes and dig out your old character sheets, your #2 pencil-drawn grid paper dungeons that not even a Conan-Gandalf multiclass could survive, your lengthy and grammatically suspect descriptions of demilich lairs and warring sky-castle kingdoms. Hell, PlaGMaDA will take a scrap of paper with nothing but your scribbled (and probably padded, let’s be honest) ability score rolls. Donate it all right here. You don’t even have to use your real name, although you really should, because what you made with your own mind and hands from scratch and for the love of the game when you were 12 years old is better than whatever Wizards of the Coast is putting out next, and more awesome than anything anyone has ever built on Second Life or Minecraft.




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