I Feel Pretty! Oh So Pretty!

There’s one thing I’ve been meaning to write about for quite some time. From inside a show, it’s my favourite part. I always find it terribly exciting and quite frankly, for me, it’s the part I find most magical and the part that really makes me feel like I in a show.

If you haven’t figured it out, I’m referring to the costumes. The idea that someone is going to make a costume especially for me, to exactly my measurements, so that it best suits my shape and highlights my best features… well that, my friends, is one tasty looking carrot to be dangling in front of someone’s nose.

It’s funny how the things just left of the actual show are the parts I love most. The costumes, make up, the poster, the program… I suppose that’s what makes it real for me. Anyone can put something together and call it a “show”. I feel like it’s these elements that make it real, official and professional. At the same time, I guess it makes sense. When the show is over, everything that has occurred on stage exists only as a memory. When you get back up there the following night, the experience will never be the same, even if the gestures are. And one day, the show will end. The lasting reminder, the proof that it really happened, lies in the things you can hold. The poster, the program, the costume...

I suppose I’m just getting a little wistful because we open in five days… Five days!!

But back to costumes…

As I just mentioned, we open in five days. I still do not have a completed costume. There are some people who are missing elements of their costume, but I’m flat out missing pants and a top. I do have a costume just for my number, which is really quite awesome, albeit now covered in paint (damn you, clowns!). And I do have a sequin-infested jacket. But for the duration of the show that I am not doing German wheel I have only my shiny, shiny coat to keep me decent.

I almost have pants. Every time I try them on the fit is disastrous and I have the costume designer up in my lady parts muttering under her breath. And one day I may have a top but the costume designer hasn’t found “my colour”. I have, however, been told that that colour is not green. I suppose that’s a start.

As for my German wheel costume… after having lived through costumes that made me look like an ice dragon (actually kind of cool) and a diseased sperm (very far from cool), I am happy to report I will finally be represented as an attractive young woman!

For starters, the costume is red. Red! Only sexy women get to wear red. But not only that, its a little bustier that shows off my cleavage (!) coupled with what the costume designer calls little underwear, but are actually just little red shorts. They aren’t really interesting enough to call them anything but shorts. Except for that, like the bustier, they have roses all over them! Needless to say, the wheel costume makes it much easier to bear the sequin-infested jacket and lack of pants.