An online friend of mine, whose living history efforts I’ve helped mentor, lives in California and took a trip to the Galaxy’s Edge park recently, and was kind enough to ask if I would be interested in any of their merch.
While I am not really interested in post-Disney Star Wars, I have been using Youtube to vicariously check out the new park since its opening…because as someone (with a minimal budget) and an interest in GFFA full-immersion interactions with the public, I’m always curious to see how things get done with a Disney-sized budget behind them.
Since I was already going to discuss the one item S.K. picked up for me (much appreciated, brother!), I figured I could also springboard and offer a few comments on the other merchandise I’ve seen offered for sale at Galaxy’s Edge, as the various items might pertain to our efforts here.
Let’s start with the Jedi food capsules ($20, set of 6):
If you’re interested in portraying an Old Republic/Prequel-era Jedi, the Jedi food capsules are a key item to decorate your utility belt; per in-universe lore, these would’ve contained survival rations for Jedi to use on their missions. But are these replicas worth purchasing? Continue reading “Galaxy’s Edge merch: Jedi Food Capsules”
As the main body of Star Wars material for popular consumption generally (and stubbornly) revolves around a cast of high-level generals, politicians, pilots, soldiers, and warrior-monks, ‘occupational’ characters like archeologists are not to be easily found. As I have frequently found in my efforts documented here, when ‘common’ background details are scarce, one can usually turn to role-playing game materials to flesh things out, and this case is no exception.

One of the largest stumbling blocks to getting a real-world-functional GFFA kit is the lack of references to everyday material culture in the Galaxy. We have little evidence, for example, of the kinds of containers your average galactic citizen has around the house—do the citizens of Bespin have Tupperware? And as someone with an interest in creating a realistic—but recognizably Star Wars-y—set of outdoor-adventure gear, this is a wall I have often run into. When we have so few resources to draw on, we instead have to get creative in our solutions. In this case, since we have little gear to draw aesthetic inspiration from, why not draw inspiration from the gear that influenced the aesthetic we aspire to?