A Petite HEMA Fighter's Saga To Owning Custom Gear
I am a petite stay-at-home mom with illusions of becoming a chic world-class sword-fighter. Thus exposing my deepest delusions that fuel most of my fantasy writing, I will now tell you about my most recent failed attempt to make this lifelong fascination
I am a petite stay-at-home mom with illusions of becoming a chic world-class sword-fighter. Thus exposing my deepest delusions that fuel most of my fantasy writing, I will now tell you about my most recent failed attempt to make this lifelong fascination a reality.
I have been a Historical European Martial Arts (HEMA) member for three years, with two 9-month breaks: one to delightfully give birth to my daughter and one to traumatically have reconstructive surgery on my ankle. When I joined HEMA, I said it was to do hands-on research for my publications, that I like history and the medieval time period, and that as a stay-at-home mom, I needed to get out of the house. Lastly, I said I need the exercise, and I am more motivated by developing a skill than just random gym sweating. Secretly, though, I just wanted to swing around a sword and look fantastic doing it.
Being a mom of three kids, running my own business, and sometimes getting four hours of sleep a night, I haven’t been the sharpest cookie in the pencil box…err… a...just like that. So these three years have been very bumpy, and it has taken me all this time to finally order my own equipment.
I ordered my helmet, staff, and gloves from Purple Heart Armory, one giddy piece at a time, like a small child finally getting the toy they wanted for Christmas. I'll write a review for Purple Heart later. This equipment allowed me to awkwardly do certain kinds of drills at the club practices with all the enthusiasm of a distracted puppy.
I bought a sword at Kult of Athena which wasn't very useful for sparring but exuded the glory of a Medieval Wonder Woman as I drilled with it. The children dubbed it “Mommy’s Sword,” telling guests to our house its name like it was a pet hanging on the hallway wall.
Finally, I bought a used feder from a guy in my club which transformed me from ridiculously out of sync with the rest of the group to just kind of weird. With the sword and feder, I could do drills, but I needed protective equipment to spar with a partner. Obviously, to be the fantastically elegant sword-fighting virtuoso of my fantasies I must be able to duel a partner with the ease and dexterity of Errol Flynn!
Most HEMA clubs do offer protective equipment beginners can borrow. Unfortunately, I am a five-foot-two-inch woman with an hourglass shape that makes even women's clothes not fit right. Since most participants in HEMA are men. A man is roughly the shape of a rectangle, and he typically has a longer torso than a woman, especially that of a short woman. Any toddler with a shape sorter can see that these shapes don't fit in the same mold.
Because women's protective jackets were often out of stock, more expensive, difficult to get, and too exotic for the rarely seen feminine species of sword fighter who attended more than a month, our club only had men's jackets to borrow. So, when I would borrow a jacket that would kind of fit the length of my arms and shoulders, I would have to fight and struggle to connect the zipper at my full hips. I had thought I had broken the zipper on one of the club jackets during one of these epic wrestling matches and was informed that another woman in the club had done it!
Once I could get the horrid rectangular tube-shaped jacket on with all the pads, massive gloves, and my helmet, I then had to attempt to sword fight. I would toddle to the sparring floor like a small child in their burly father's biggest winter coat and get into position to fight. When I reached up with my sword, the jacket would slide slightly up, but not return all the way down so that my head was tilted up most of the bout, looking down my nose at my opponent in arrogant frustration at not being able to move my head. The sleeves were so long they would push the gloves, which were also way too big, slightly off so that I held onto my sword in an awkward desperation not to drop it.
Bonk!
Being short, I typically get whacked over the head by my opponent's steel blade.
In three years, I still can’t seem to remember to protect my head.
If I was going to continue with this sport, I needed my own gear, but my own gear that fit!
For a long time, most of the various HEMA shop websites had multiple styles of jackets for men and one style for women. When I would read the measurements for the single women's coat, I knew it was not going to fit properly no matter what size I ordered. As though being a woman among men isn't difficult enough, I’m an odd-shaped woman among women too.
Superior Fencing custom makes all their coats to each customer's measurements and tastes. This single fact is why I ended up, in the end, choosing to go with them rather than the closest fitting women's jacket from another company. There is one other company that had a women's jacket that was also custom size, but they were nearly twice as expensive. I'm not quite sure why Superior Fencing has size charts on their website. I did use it as a reference in comparing my own measurements to the averages on the chart (vanity, it was just because of vanity), but they don't use the sizes listed even if your measurements were to match exactly. Their prices are also much cheaper than the competition. Since they are located in Pakistan, the shipping is substantial. For my order, it was nearly $100 on top of the purchase price. This does increase the price a lot, but not enough to be more than the competition.
They also offer kits that have all that you need to get started in HEMA in a bundled deal which is ridiculously cheap. I ordered the Full HEMA Kit 15 800N Woman Version without the gloves and replaced the jacket with their Ranger Women's HEMA Jacket 800N. The jacket was a double-breasted military coat design with shiny buttons. Double-breasted coats have always been very slimming on me. Since I have long arms and legs and a very short torso, I really wanted a style of jacket that went below my waist. I could even choose to have the jacket in my favorite color.
Could this be it?
Could this be the slimming highly protective jacket that was both practical and stylish for a small woman like me?
Did such things exist in the universe?
Dreams of looking like Catherine Zeta-Jones sword fighting in The Mask of Zorro (before getting undressed) swirled in my head! Never mind that she was wearing a corset and not a million pounds of padding akin to a hockey player which is required for safety in doing steel longsword fencing, but I regress.
Ordering from Superior Fencing involves emailing them with your requests, asking for a quote, and then transferring them the payment. I found this process extremely uncomfortable, especially for my very nervous and suspicious disposition.
Dealing with an international seller, transferring money, and having no reputable third-party sales platform involved can all be red flags. Just watch any James Bond movie. Seriously though, I personally have been scammed by other businesses long before interacting with Superior Fencing and I did not want to get scammed again. I have had my artwork bought by an international buyer who sent me fake money orders, and I have transferred money to an editor for one of my books who disappeared without a word. If Superior Fencing had not been so highly recommended by the people in my club, I would have backed out of the deal at that moment.
From what I understand, many international sellers of HEMA gear from all over the world do this same process. Still, this is a very bad way to do business. If you do decide to buy from Superior Fencing, I strongly encourage you to pay the extra fee to use PayPal to transfer your money. PayPal has a 180-day refund policy that helped me get my money back in the scams of my past. I even know of a situation in which PayPal helped mediate a situation with Superior Fencing in which the order needed some corrections. International sellers lack many affordable options for how they do business with Americans, but that doesn't mean we should take all the risks.
My negative emotions did not end there, though. I ordered my kit on July 16th. I had to email multiple times to find out that my order would take eight weeks to complete and then ten to twelve days for shipping. The shipping did not surprise me. Moving anything overseas takes forever and a day. Since this was a custom order, I was happy to wait eight weeks. What frustrated me the most was the lack of clear communication and clear expectations. I sweated, twitched, ate, writhed, grumbled, ate, muttered threats, cried, ate, and dreamed. After ten weeks, I emailed asking about the status of my order. Again I had to email multiple times until I received responses. On October 18th my compact cubicle vacuum-sealed package arrived. It took almost fourteen weeks for my order to arrive. From what I understand from others, this is a very common length of time for Superior Fencing, especially on kits.
Well, that was enough time for me to have 15 pounds. Would anything fit anymore?
The massive amount of gear I ordered somehow all shrunk down to fit inside this single suitcase-sized box like something out of a Jetsons cartoon. Once I hacksawed through the layers of tape and cardboard enough to endure a nuclear explosion, the quality of the pieces was fantastic!
As I explained above, the primary reason I went with Superior Fencing was the custom jacket and the price. Everything in the kit other than the jacket, I just got because of the price. I was very pleasantly surprised by the quality. Of course, there are more expensive and nicer versions of all the equipment that I received on the market even in Superior Fencing's own Shop, but I just wanted enough equipment to spar with a steel longsword fender at my club and to enter a local competition every great once in a while. What I received fit exactly what I needed.
I am not sure why they upgraded my mask overlay, but the leather is great and fits my mask perfectly. The back of the head protection seems solid and when I used my mask at my club, it stayed securely in place. Since I am regularly bonked on the head with a sword, the more durable leather is nice.
The protective pads are not labeled and there are no instructions, so if I had not borrowed equipment at my club I would have been searching the internet for clues. This seems to be the way it is with the companies I have worked with so far. You end up learning how to use, care for, and break in your equipment from your club. Of course, I could also use common sense if I had more sleep. It would make sense that elbow pads are smaller than knee pads and forearm pads are smaller than shin pads. The trick is just getting them the right side up, but a few brain cells, or YouTube Videos (if the children have stolen those last brain cells) can cure any confusion.
The elbow pads attach to the forearm pads by velcro. Both pads attach to your arm with velcro straps by way of contorting yourself in odd ways until you get everything in place and then adjust them again to get them actually fitting. These pads and the knee and shin pads feel very sturdy. They are not like the plastic plates that attach to some company's coats nor are they like cheap soccer shin pads or even squishy karate or kickboxing pads. They are both absorbent pads and firm plates. They are covered in cloth and shape to the size of one’s limbs, wrapping all the way around. I will very likely attach something to them so they can either velcro to my coat or snap to my coat to reduce the number of brain cells and contortion required to get them on.
These, I believe, are one size fits all. They are almost too long for my limbs. Since my arms and legs are a little longer than is proportional to my height, I think other women my height will find these pads a problem, especially the shin guards.
The shin guards are interesting because there are two layers of protection over your shin: a layer on your shin and a raised layer above your shin. I am not sure if this is a standard design for HEMA equipment. I know many people who just get shin protection from other sports or motorcycle gear. Longsword fencing carries some unusual and intense risks that aren't shared by these other activities. HEMA protective gear must help minimize the impact of being hit by a steel blade as well as resist being punctured while still being flexible. These knee and shin guards wrap around more than many other sports.
The knee guard also wraps around a little and has some ties on it to attach them to the trousers that I won't be able to use. I will probably end up duct-taping these pads to the shin guards because they slightly overlap and I need the outer layer of the shin guard on top or the combination doesn't work. This might mean that the shin guard is too long, but duct tap will make this combination work.
The gorget is the piece of protective equipment my club discusses the most. When I had first joined I was skeptical that I would need one since I had such a short neck which was protected by both the mask and the jacket. Since then, I have come to realize just how important this little piece of equipment is. Getting stabbed in the neck is both extremely dangerous and extremely common. Unfortunately, Superior Fencing’s basic gorget doesn't fit me. The one-size-fits-all Velcro strap keeps it too loose around my neck. Even so, the jacket holds it in place. I am going to find the bulk of this piece of equipment very difficult to breathe in. Breathing is kind of necessary to sword fighting, so I’ll have to discuss with my club solutions other than holding my breath each bout.
The human-sized whiskey-bottle-shaped bag that came with the kit is big enough to hold all the above equipment and even a longsword, but not my jacket. I suppose I could always wear that. It has adjustable clips to shrink the bag down if you do not have a sword in it and lots of pockets. There are a few colors to choose from, so I picked red. It isn't the darker red of my feder's handle or my jacket, but it works.
It is great to have everything in one place, but even with the light material, a bag as large as myself filled with heavy gear weighs about as much as a bag of concrete. Many in my club use golf bags or ski bags with wheels for their gear. Still, I had no bag, so I am happy with it. It has taken me a week to figure out how to carry it without looking horribly awkward and knocking things off the wall of my house. Now, I just look mildly bizarre carrying this red cello-shaped bookbag on my back.
The kit included black knee-high socks, but since they are one-size-fits-all, the heel of it ends up in the back of my legs.
Toss.
Pretty much 90% of my complaints are just short-person problems. Such is my life.
So, now we get to the trousers. As I said before, I gained 15 pounds in the almost four months I waited for the kit and most of that went to my hips. I was determined to try everything on as soon as I got it. I stubbornly forced the pants on with an intense battle of wills equal to the epic Trojan Wars and brutally fought with the zipper trying to gain the upper hand.
There was no ka-boom. Where's the ka-boom? There was supposed to be an earth-shattering ka-boom.
Really, I should have destroyed the trousers right there. I have broken luggage zippers with less effort and busted seams with far less pressure. After furiously admitting defeat and measuring the unyielding victim of my furry, I discovered that they did make the trousers to the measurements I sent them. So, even though these will have to wait until I get back in shape, they are well-made and can endure all the villainy human hands can inflict on a piece of clothing. The trousers are made with the 800 N fabric that was used on the jacket but in black. They have protective padding on the front, inner thigh, and outer thigh. They come with unnecessary-for-me suspenders. Since they made the trousers with the nearly ten-inch difference between my waist and my hips, once they fit again, they most certainly are not falling down. At least there is one benefit to having a big ass!
So now the jacket.
Will it fit?
The jacket was a beautiful ox blood red and was incredibly heavy as it should be. It was the maximum level of protection typically sold and used for weapons like longswords. It was perfectly stitched with no loose threads anywhere. I had measured myself for the jacket while wearing a chest protector, so the jacket fit fine without it.
Yay!
It has a blade catcher flap at the neck, longer cuffs which might be a little too long for my gloves, loops on the sleeve to attach elbow pads (but not the kind I have until I add something), a strap in the back to tighten the waist (which I need), and the long hem which would now protect my thighs until I lose weight and can wear the trousers.
I had my husband take a picture of me, and then I ran to look at myself in the bathroom mirror. My first impression of myself was that I liked like a squat football player.
Drat!
It wasn't that anything was wrong with the jacket. I could definitely use it for sword fighting, and I was still very excited about that. I just wasn’t going to look like a sleek Valkyrie while doing it.
Discouraged, I felt frustrated at how I could barely move my arms and head. I still needed to break it in and give the jacket a chance. Being in Texas, I wonder if I should have gotten vents put in the back. I've discovered I can't wear the jacket over a tank top because it rubs various areas raw. The sleeves are very wide in circumference which seems odd. Oh, well.
As I prepared to write this article, I scoured Pinterest, pondering whether I should cut off all the buttons and move them in two inches towards the center to make the coat more flattering. Since the fabric is specifically resistant to various kinds of piercing damage, I was not looking forward to the damage my fingers would likely endure in the attempt. I also pondered adding or taking away various elements, trying to make it look less bulky.
One day, as my teenage son was finding my last sane nerve and destroying it with house rattling train sounds on our home organ, I wrestled all my gear on so I could take some pictures for this article. After failed attempts at timing the photos and getting my gloves on in time. I asked my son for help. He condescendingly agreed with his inarticulate all-purpose teenage grunt. I posed in the only clear spot in the house without piles of toys or half-done projects. Expressionlessly, my son snapped a few photos, handed me the phone, and then returned to his bombastic cacophony. I studied the photos and my jaw dropped. Was this an accident?
Whether or not my son is secretly a talented photographer or he just happened to do just the right thing at the right time, he did not seem the least bit pleased or surprised by the flattering angle or the angelic light streaming in from the window.
It was just mom.
I was seeing myself through his eyes.
The fencing helmet had made me appear a little taller. The light made me seem a little thinner. The bulk of the jacket conveyed the strength and power of Xena. The sword in my hands had the flavor of Eowyn. Perhaps the jacket wasn't so bad or perhaps it didn't actually matter all that much. For my family, I was already that fabulously elegant sword fighter of my imagination, and the jacket fit. That was enough.