Sumptuous or Pre-sumptuous?

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Your Humble Blogger has only heard three really plausible reasons for going into acting. Laurence Olivier said that he was only ever aware of wanting to show off. Ian McKellen said that he had heard there were a lot of queers there. And one of my colleagues in lLD said that she just liked dressing up in other people’s clothing.

Yesterday, Your Humble Blogger went to be fitted for costumes. We are renting costumes, at great expense, although of course at less expense than building them, and they will be fabulous.

I mean fabulous.

Your Humble Blogger has five outfits, each lovelier than the last. As the show is set, remember, in 1785 Paris, these are the elaborate waistcoat and full-skirted jacket combinations with breeches and hose. My favorite is a black-and-silver bit of magnificence, to which the costume wallah is even now attaching more lace. More lace! Oh, this will be wonderful.

The costume wallah himself is a dear, lovely, bitchy man in his (I would guess) late fifties, hidden away in the back of what appears to be a small and tacky party shop in New Haven. Back behind the plastic pirate eyepatches and the Elvira wigs, however, is a warehouse of costumes that would make your head spin. I got a glimpse through the door, and I think they were using forced perspective of some kind, because that room is definitely larger than the building it’s inside. Racks above racks above racks receding into the distance like, um, like really long racks of clothing. You know. The fellow who presides over all this is, um, stereotypical in certain respects, if you know what I mean, but my Best Blogger was along to prevent my flirting with him too much. Oh, and I got to tell him the Story of the Suit. Hee hee!

And he got to tell me his stories, of course, including in a couple of instances the identities of the person for whom a piece of magnificence had been built. It turns out that I’m a trifle taller than [a certain extremely good actor] and my arms are a good bit longer. I wouldn’t have guessed. And I wasn’t wearing my heels. Yes, I’ll be wearing heels for this play; in addition to being all period and stuff, I need the height. As, evidently does [the aforementioned star of stage and screen].

Sadly, we won’t get the glad rags until a week before we open, which week will be spent, I imagine, re-blocking everything so that the womenfolk can get their period skirts around the stage without catastrophe. I haven’t seen any of their costumes, but I believe our Director has already altered one scene to more effectively display a hat. If I am going to be gorgeous, I can only imagine what the ladies will look like.

Oh, I’ve gone in a day from wanting more time, more time before we have to go up to being scarcely able to contain my impatience. It’s amazing what a costume will do.

chazak, chazak, v’nitchazek,
-Vardibidian.

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