I passed a sign for one of them, which on a normal day would've been weird enough--Actors and Models for Christ. (I guess Jesus has his own talent agency now?)
But you couldn't miss the attendees of the other event--they weren't loud, but they stood out. They wore gowns, robes, plastic swords, bright wigs and even brighter outfits. The few girls had wings, tiny little wings up to massive works of art spanning their entire backs. The boys (many, many boys) wore colorful outfits, and unicorn backpacks.
We were intrigued.
"What's going on?" my mom asked the concierge, gesturing toward the crowd.
"It's a My Little Pony convention," the concierge responded.
As in cartoon ponies? For little girls? We looked around again--there weren't any kids around, and certainly not many girls. The group was mostly young men in their late teens and 20s, walking around with stuffed ponies on their shoulders. It was kinda weird.
And just when I thought it couldn't get any weirder, a giant unicorn, powered by three boys, ran by me. Seriously. I had to chase it down and get a photo.
 |
| These girls were actually fashion show models, not MLP attendees. |
I learned these guys were "bronies"--a mashup of the words "bro" and "ponies." That's right--they are male superfans who love cartoon ponies.
Despite their outlandish costumes, the bronies were very well-behaved. There were lots of security guards roaming the lobby, and they set up a very clear, definitive border between the fashion show and the bronies. I had to go through three different guards to pick Mark up from practice.
Mark walked uncomfortably through the crowd of fairies and unicorns.
"They're freaking me out," he grumbled.
I tried to keep an open mind, but it's hard when you're surrounded by a crowd of grown men carrying stuffed animals.
In the end, the extra security seemed unwarranted. The slight, quiet bronies didn't look or act like a threat--in fact, like ponies, they were easily spooked.
We encountered one very nervous young guy on the elevator who was convinced the malfactioning car door opened on every floor because someone was pranking us. ("That was awkward," he proclaimed, when we finally reached the lobby, voicing no one else's opinion.)
Another girl freaked out on a different elevator, claiming she was claustrophobic, and pushing her way off. For a bunch of pack animals, they sure seemed to hate crowds (or, you know...interacting with other people).
I couldn't get enough of it--I thought they were awesome, I wanted to talk to all of them. ("So...who's your favorite pony? What's your favorite color--rainbow? Me too!") I tried sneaking into the vendor hall, but got shut out by a beefy security guard. I wanted to learn everything there was about being a brony, but Mark wouldn't let me near them.
My mom was equally fascinated.
"What do you call them?" she wondered. "I mean, all of them together, as a group?"
I just shrugged. I had no idea--what do you call of group of ponies? A herd?
We got our answer as we checked out of the hotel the next morning and passed one lone brony in the hall.
"Join the heeeeerd," he neighed at us, confirming my guess. I almost lost it, biting my tongue so I didn't laugh right in the poor socially awkward young guy's face.
But I did nudge Mark once we passed him.
"Yeah, Mark, join the herd," I whispered.
Mark just sighed. He'd thought it was bad enough walking through the lobby with his mom potentially embarrassing him in front of his PADRE friends. He had no idea I could up the embarrassment level so much higher by stalking the bronies.
Whatever. All I know is that when I return next year, I'm wearing a unicorn backpack.
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