Behind the costumes, cosplayers in Singapore are experiencing a more complex reality
Once identified as fringe and odd, anime and comic book enthusiasts are finding their space in Singapore.
In 2019, a total of 19 Anime, Comic, and Game (ACG) conventions were held in the country, and that number has only continued to grow. According to a master list compiled by a local enthusiast, over 300 such events of varying sizes and scale have taken place so far this year, with 34 of them conventions.
With an event taking place almost once a week, these gatherings are not just attractive to geeks and otakus; they have also caught the curiosity of the mainstream public. Anime Festival Asia, one of the marquee ACG events, more than quadrupled its attendance—spiking from 29,000 at its first Singapore edition in 2008, to 130,000 in 2023.
Although specific numbers are scarce, the burgeoning community has also seen an influx of cosplayers, who often dazzle the cameras and audiences with their elaborate costumes, wigs, and makeup. However, some cosplayers have come forward to share their unglamorous, even traumatic encounters, and monetisation avenues remain limited.
Vulcan Post spoke to three cosplayers in Singapore to explore how the growing traction of conventions has attracted the wrong kind of attention, and what drives them to pursue this niche hobby despite its challenges.
With more hype comes more people who spoil the fun
Shaun Tan (@shaunthebatybro), 28, first got into cosplay at the young age of 15 in 2013. He recalled that although there were fewer conventions back then, the build-up excitement was greater, as each event offered the rare chance to meet and connect with like-minded people.
“Now, every single weekend of every month, there is an event, and sometimes there will be multiple events over the weekend. That information alone is enough to exhaust me.”
With conventions gaining traction and more cosplayers debuting into the scene, it has unfortunately attracted more ill-meaning individuals who engage in misbehaviour and harassment.
One example is WholeWheatPete, an American cosplayer who became notorious for physically chasing random girls in costume at conventions and even damaging public property in the process. He has been allegedly banned from attending certain conventions, though he has been spotted at other events by other con goers online.
Closer to home, a married man was reported to have molested a female cosplayer at a Hoyoverse convention at Suntec City in 2024. The cosplayer’s friend, who happened to witness the incident, reported it to the authorities, and the perpetrator was given five weeks of jail.
With the number of harassment cases increasing at an alarming rate, many cosplayers in Singapore have spoken up about the need for greater protection. This advocacy gained momentum from the “Cosplay is not consent” movement, targeted at con goers who engage in forced physical contact, or rogue photographers who take photos from compromising angles or without the cosplayer’s consent.
Sera Woo, a 29-year-old cosplayer, recounted an instance where security guards at Marina Bay Sands took photos of her in cosplay without her consent, and highlighted that the lack of boundaries is an issue that has long been overlooked and worsened, especially after the COVID-19 pandemic.
“It’s very sad to say that a lot of times, people think that cosplay is consent just because you dress up as something strange or out of the norm, that they are entitled to take your photo,” she said.
“I’ve also heard of nightmare stories where the cosplayer is the one in the compromised position, where they have been, unfortunately, coerced into things that they don’t want to do by the photographer.”
Sera explained that before the pandemic, there was a set of rules on convention etiquette, which were commonly taught by senior cosplayers to newcomers in person. “Whether or not that is appropriate or correct or forward-looking, I cannot say for sure, because whatever I see now has been like all the things that are wrong in the community are being perpetuated.”
Consent and boundaries aren’t concepts limited to the cosplay community—in fact, they’re always a hot topic of discussion amongst the mainstream public. However, these traumatic encounters spotlighted the lack of humanisation of cosplayers, and the lack of support and guidance often leaves victims and newcomers in the lurch.
These very issues have led Sera and Shaun to team up with other cosplayers to form CosLabs, a collective that aims to equip newcomers with the basic skills to navigate the scene. “We’re still trying to develop the tools as well as the language to make a safer space for everyone to just enjoy the hobby as well as enjoy convention spaces,” stated Shaun.
No longer just a fun and carefree hobby
Beyond these challenges, cosplayers also face the growing pressure to maintain a public image and meet audience expectations.
When Shaun went to his first convention in 2013, he created his costume out of whatever he had in his wardrobe and slapped a bunch of makeup on his face. The 28-year-old shared that in the past, people were a lot more easygoing and simply just used these events to play dress up with their friends.
“There wasn’t really much to it because, you know, I thought it was just dress up,” he added. “It wasn’t something that too many people took too seriously.”
Today, the cosplay scene has shifted significantly, particularly after COVID-19, which brought physical events to a halt and pushed many cosplayers to turn to social media to build their platforms and followings. Aly Erichan, who got into the hobby in 2018, experienced the impact of this change firsthand.
“When I first entered, cosplay felt much more focused on personal enjoyment,” she explained. “Today, the cosplay scene leans heavily towards online visibility. It’s common to see cosplayers constantly posting on Instagram, filming TikToks, or turning every event into a content opportunity.”
Once seen as a fun and carefree hobby, it has become a branding opportunity, increasing the expectations on cosplayers like Aly to produce more polished cosplays and content.
Sera also highlighted that social media has increasingly commodified cosplayers, which changes their overall intention from enjoyment to wanting validation. For example, one might choose to cosplay popular or more aesthetically pleasing characters, even if they are not their favourite.
“Some people just cosplay the same character like almost every con, and they still find enjoyment out of it, and somehow they find ways to upgrade that costume.”
It’s possible to monetise cosplays, but money isn’t easy
Aside from using social media to create content and build an online following, some cosplayers offer wig-styling commissions for others, which often takes time and skill. Aly is one of the many cosplayers who offer this service, and though she declined to share any figures, she said it allows her to earn a bit back while doing something she enjoys.
“I also sell my old cosplays if I don’t plan to reuse the outfit, which helps cover the cost of future projects,” she added. “It makes more sense to invest in an outfit I can use for multiple characters in the same series instead of spending a lot on a very specific, one-time look. Considering things like materials, wigs, accessories, and how many times I’ll realistically use the outfit helps me manage the costs better.”
Another service that Aly offers is CosDates, where she dresses up as a character chosen by the client and goes on a “date” with them in full cosplay, either exploring fun places in Singapore or doing activities that fit the character’s personality. This practice was first popular in China, and has yet to achieve the same popularity in Singapore.
Aly shared that she decided to offer this rent-a-date-like service after being invited as a guest cosplayer at fan-hosted cafes and running her own cosplay booths at events, where she sells her own merchandise and performs fan services, including hand-holding and kabedons.
“I realised how much I enjoy having one-on-one interactions with my followers. Seeing my clients genuinely happy during these sessions brings me a lot of joy too, so offering CosDates felt like a natural and meaningful extension of what I already love doing.”
Though she did not reveal any figures for her earnings, her Instagram highlight for her CosDate services stated that there is a S$50 booking fee and a S$30 hourly rate, which is reduced to S$25 for dates of 3 hours or more.
Some cosplayers are also hired as mascots for events such as restaurant pop-up collaborations and movie premieres. For Shaun, his first gig was in 2018, when he was hired to cosplay as The Joker for a car show featuring a Joker-themed car.
“They were nice enough to supply me with the costume as well as pay me a good hourly rate.”
Their passion continues despite discouraging incidents
Instead of letting the bad apples ruin the fun, these cosplayers still continue to find enjoyment in the hobby and remain determined to use their platforms for positive impact.
Having had opportunities to interact with other cosplayers locally and globally, Shaun believes that improvements and opportunities created by established creators in the West will trickle down to the Singapore scene, benefiting newer cosplayers.
“I’m always going to love this hobby. I’m always going to love the people that I met in it,” Shaun emphasised. “The people that have been with me throughout this entire journey are always going to stay with me no matter where I am or who I am.”
While the cosplay scene seems far removed from society due to its niche, Sera is a firm believer that the way the cosplay community treats one another—and the way the public treats cosplayers—is a direct reflection of the societal standards and culture we follow today. “Cosplay is actually a gateway and a reflection of how our society is right now, and I will die on that hill.”
The 29-year-old, who had recently attained her master’s in Linguistics, expressed her determination and passion for the hobby despite the mentally draining obstacles she faced.
Cosplayers are also change agents with the social power to spark a chain reaction that helps the community evolve. She plans to support new cosplayers by developing CosLabs with Shaun and her team, where they aim to advocate for a safer environment where both new and seasoned cosplayers can freely explore their love for their favourite characters.
The thing is: it takes a village for it to happen.
“Cosplay is art, and anyone can be a cosplayer,” Sera explained. Every person who steps into a convention brings something to the mix. Whether they’re in full costume, casually cosplaying, or simply attending as a fan, they carry their beliefs and identities into every interaction within the community.
How people treat one another in these spaces shapes the community—and that village reflects the attitudes in society we are building beyond the convention halls.
- Read more articles we’ve written on Singaporean businesses here.
Also Read: Stress, costs, and overbearing crowds: The tough reality behind Singapore’s fun conventions
Featured Image Credit: @aizen.photo via Instagram/ Shaun Tan/ Aly Erichan
Last modified: November 28, 2025
About the Author: Jeremy P.
