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The novel coronavirus pandemic has become an international crisis. In the world of fandom， pop culture conventions are being canceled and special appearances have been called off. The business of bringing characters to life is suffering and there seems to be no end in sight.
For millions of fans， cosplay is an opportunity to dress up as your favorite character and share your fandom with others. But for some， it is a full-time job—or， at the very least， a side hustle. It’s not an easy career path. Cosplayers can spend 100 hours or more creating specialty costumes that cost upwards of $1，000 for the materials alone （not including the cost of labor， which could easily triple the price）. In exchange， some cosplayers who appear at events will negotiate appearance fees—which vary from a couple hundred to several thousand dollars—as well as flights， accommodations， and per diems. High-profile cosplayers sometimes do paid autograph sessions or request sales guarantees， which ensure the convention covers any merchandise shortfalls. But no one anticipated a shortfall like this.
For fans， this means missing out on panels， celebrity sightings， social events， and spending time with friends they may not otherwise see. But for professional cosplayers—some of whom make a living or at least a supportive second income from cosplay—this also means losing appearance fees， sponsorship deals， and the opportunity to sell merchandise to fans.
With organizers waiting a long time to cancel， either by accident or design， cosplayers are left struggling to figure out how to recoup the sudden income losses. Everyone I talked to said they understand why these conventions are being canceled， but it doesn’t make things any easier.
The whole situation has left a lot of cosplayers in a bind. Since many of them count as independent contractors1， that means they don’t qualify for state unemployment benefits. The CARES Act， which provides federal benefits for people whose jobs have been impacted by covid-19， has been extended to freelancers， but reports have shown it’s hard to access those benefits because the system isn’t designed for the gig economy. In the meantime， sales of merchandise and other fandom goods have tanked. Some cosplayers are working more on Twitch and YouTube， or have turned to Patreon or Ko-fi to solicit support from fans.
The effects on cosplay as a hobby and industry itself isn’t the only way the novel coronavirus has impacted their lives. Some have lost their day jobs—like New York-based cosplayer Jay Justice， who works as an independent writing consultant and editor. She told me contracts have dried up in recent weeks and it’s unclear when they’ll bounce back. There’s also the general toll that social distancing is taking on all of us. It’s hard to feel motivated， especially when it comes to taking on creative projects， when so much is happening in the world. And when it’s your job to create beautiful things， or be around people and entertain them with your cosplay， adjusting to life without that can be draining for both your mental health and your wallet.
“In reality， there’s no way to avoid depression and anxiety. In stressful situations， it’s very difficult to create content. And when you are the product; when the product is you， smiling， being happy. Presenting something. Talking to the audience about their lives. I have not been able to get into the mindset to do that in weeks，” Justice said. There are some unexpected impacts， too. Nashville-based non-profit Cosplay Collective is a group of volunteers who dress up to visit people in hospitals， like children with terminal diseases. Considering just how many people are stuck in hospitals right now—as well as the front line staffers working overtime to keep them safe—it feels like the group’s work is more important than ever. But， of course， at a time when these cosplayers could be of help the most， they can’t be there.
Cosplay Collective co-founder Dee Volpe said the nonprofit group has been experimenting with new ideas to help children and others in hospitals during this time. This includes holding virtual princess and superhero parties for kids， like one they recently did with Dreams and Wishes of Tennessee， as well as neighborhood drive-bys and walk-arounds in costumes.
But it’s just a stop-gap because no one knows what’s waiting on the other side. In the meantime， there are attempts to recreate normalcy. Some conventions like San Diego Comic-Con have announced they’ll do events online. This could mean more opportunities for cos-players to recoup some of the audience and revenue that was lost when this all started. However， as Justice pointed out， online cons aren’t remotely the same thing and they present new challenges. Cosplayers may have to deal with new rights issues—for example， if a con tries to claim ownership of a cosplayer’s images because they were shared on their streaming channel. There’s also the issue of compensation. Some cons could try to undercut cosplayers simply because they won’t be there in person.
“There are companies that would be willing to compensate you for work that you would do at conventions， that will ghost you if you talk about compensation for doing the same content online，” Justice said. “People who read this may think that it’s easy and cosplayers just get money thrown at them. I’m like， no， you have to constantly negotiate your own value， 100 percent.”
For millions of fans， cosplay is an opportunity to dress up as your favorite character and share your fandom with others. But for some， it is a full-time job—or， at the very least， a side hustle. It’s not an easy career path. Cosplayers can spend 100 hours or more creating specialty costumes that cost upwards of $1，000 for the materials alone （not including the cost of labor， which could easily triple the price）. In exchange， some cosplayers who appear at events will negotiate appearance fees—which vary from a couple hundred to several thousand dollars—as well as flights， accommodations， and per diems. High-profile cosplayers sometimes do paid autograph sessions or request sales guarantees， which ensure the convention covers any merchandise shortfalls. But no one anticipated a shortfall like this.
For fans， this means missing out on panels， celebrity sightings， social events， and spending time with friends they may not otherwise see. But for professional cosplayers—some of whom make a living or at least a supportive second income from cosplay—this also means losing appearance fees， sponsorship deals， and the opportunity to sell merchandise to fans.
With organizers waiting a long time to cancel， either by accident or design， cosplayers are left struggling to figure out how to recoup the sudden income losses. Everyone I talked to said they understand why these conventions are being canceled， but it doesn’t make things any easier.
The whole situation has left a lot of cosplayers in a bind. Since many of them count as independent contractors1， that means they don’t qualify for state unemployment benefits. The CARES Act， which provides federal benefits for people whose jobs have been impacted by covid-19， has been extended to freelancers， but reports have shown it’s hard to access those benefits because the system isn’t designed for the gig economy. In the meantime， sales of merchandise and other fandom goods have tanked. Some cosplayers are working more on Twitch and YouTube， or have turned to Patreon or Ko-fi to solicit support from fans.
The effects on cosplay as a hobby and industry itself isn’t the only way the novel coronavirus has impacted their lives. Some have lost their day jobs—like New York-based cosplayer Jay Justice， who works as an independent writing consultant and editor. She told me contracts have dried up in recent weeks and it’s unclear when they’ll bounce back. There’s also the general toll that social distancing is taking on all of us. It’s hard to feel motivated， especially when it comes to taking on creative projects， when so much is happening in the world. And when it’s your job to create beautiful things， or be around people and entertain them with your cosplay， adjusting to life without that can be draining for both your mental health and your wallet.
“In reality， there’s no way to avoid depression and anxiety. In stressful situations， it’s very difficult to create content. And when you are the product; when the product is you， smiling， being happy. Presenting something. Talking to the audience about their lives. I have not been able to get into the mindset to do that in weeks，” Justice said. There are some unexpected impacts， too. Nashville-based non-profit Cosplay Collective is a group of volunteers who dress up to visit people in hospitals， like children with terminal diseases. Considering just how many people are stuck in hospitals right now—as well as the front line staffers working overtime to keep them safe—it feels like the group’s work is more important than ever. But， of course， at a time when these cosplayers could be of help the most， they can’t be there.
Cosplay Collective co-founder Dee Volpe said the nonprofit group has been experimenting with new ideas to help children and others in hospitals during this time. This includes holding virtual princess and superhero parties for kids， like one they recently did with Dreams and Wishes of Tennessee， as well as neighborhood drive-bys and walk-arounds in costumes.
But it’s just a stop-gap because no one knows what’s waiting on the other side. In the meantime， there are attempts to recreate normalcy. Some conventions like San Diego Comic-Con have announced they’ll do events online. This could mean more opportunities for cos-players to recoup some of the audience and revenue that was lost when this all started. However， as Justice pointed out， online cons aren’t remotely the same thing and they present new challenges. Cosplayers may have to deal with new rights issues—for example， if a con tries to claim ownership of a cosplayer’s images because they were shared on their streaming channel. There’s also the issue of compensation. Some cons could try to undercut cosplayers simply because they won’t be there in person.
“There are companies that would be willing to compensate you for work that you would do at conventions， that will ghost you if you talk about compensation for doing the same content online，” Justice said. “People who read this may think that it’s easy and cosplayers just get money thrown at them. I’m like， no， you have to constantly negotiate your own value， 100 percent.”