When I first began researching fandom, there was very little literature about it. There were plenty of fanzines and such, of course, going back decades, but little in the way of histories and almost nothing resembling scholarly research. There was one author, Harry Warner, Jr., who wrote a pair of histories on science fiction fandom: All Our Yesterdays and A Wealth of Fable. While the second volume won Warner a Hugo Award, I found both books dreadfully tedious and poorly organized, despite having a lot of useful information and interesting anecdotes. But, more interestingly, in reading these stories of fandoms from decades gone by, I noted that the basic tennets of fandom had not changed. If you swapped “mimeograph” with “online comments section” and changed a few names and dates, it would be nearly indistinguishable from something that might be reported today.

I recently happened across the story of Heidi Saha, who made a name for herself in the 1970s with her cosplay. She was actually the daughter of Art Saha, who was once an active member of the Futurians, a New York-based science fiction fan groups in the 1930s and ’40s. He went on to become president of the New York Science Fiction Society and is creditted with coining the term “Trekkie” in 1967. He was also friends with Donald A. Wollheim and Forrest Ackerman, and Ackerman was in fact the younger Saha’s godfather. With that kind of upbringing, it’s hardly surprising she became involved in fandom as she grew older.

In 1973, Saha appeared at the Comic Art Convention costume contest dressed as Vampirella. (That’s her in the header photo above, striking the same pose as the famous Jose Gonzales painting.) However, she was shockingly, given the low number of entries, not the only Vampirella costume; actress Angelique Trouvere was also in the revealing outfit. But instead of simply judging the two on the merits of their costumes, a whole host of issues came up.

Saha’s mother—who evidently pushed her daughter into a lot of these types of things, thinking she might be able to become an actress or model—threw a fit when she saw Trouvere’s costume, claiming it was somehow indecent, while ignoring the fact that her 14-year-old daughter (yes, fourteen!) was wearing basically the same thing. Show organizer Phil Sueling convinced Trouvere to wear Band-Aids to cover the “offending” areas, and calm Saha’s mother down.

Ultimately, Saha won third place. But Saha’s relationship with Ackerman, by then, had become known, and coupled with the fact that her costume had been professionally made led many to believe Saha was being sponsored by James Warren himself to drum up interest and support for the Vampirella magazine he published. The audience booed her when awards were given out.

The hate continued on after the convention in fanzines and at other conventions she attended. The con booklet for the 1974 Creation Convention had a scathing piece on Saha that drove her father livid with rage. The negative attention took its toll on Saha, and she retired from cosplaying—and fandom entirely—within a year.

A lot of hassle over a $25 prize. (The equivalent of $130 today.)

But the point is that it wasn’t about the money. It was about trying to keep fandom “pure.” It was about trying to define from within what it meant to be a “true” fan. And they managed to discourage a young girl from pursuing any further interest in fandom before she graduated high school.

Same as it ever was.