Turns out, there's also a precedent. You could carry a fan as a bit of a historical wink-wink: In the Japanese Battle of Yashima in 1185, one army was chasing the other away. The action got put on hold when the guys on the run hopped into boats, which the pursuers didn't have. Without wind, though, they were kind of stuck hanging around staring at the guys who were staring at them. There's an awkward moment for you. To fill the embarrassed silence, I guess, they tossed out a challenge. Ok, I'm just being flippant; actually, it was prompted by 'chivalrous rivalry', which sounds beautiful and very Japanese. They extended a fluttery fan from the ship's mast and goaded the foe to put an arrow through it. Since it was extended by a girl's hand, though, people were a bit hesitant to shoot. The general threw his weight around and ordered a fella to do it, and he made this big oath about cutting his bowstring and never facing people again if he failed. It didn't come to that, though. He made the shot and they say ('they' being Wikipedia) that the feat is celebrated to this day.
I'm seriously considering delving into my giant tupperware storage bin of mementos. A few years back, within a couple of days, a pal returned from a business trip to Hong Kong and gave me a fan, then another came home for a visit from his English-teaching adventures in Japan with another one. They were pretty, of course, but I didn't expect to use them. On my recent vacation, I was at the most fun salsa club ever. (In Saskatoon. Honestly.) Everyone had fans. People used the biggest and showiest as dancing accessories, too. So I can use these for two outstanding activities. Let's suffer no illusions: archers can appreciate ornate props.