Thursday, May 14, 2009


Oh, dear. And I thought my 1920's temperance lady outfit was bad. Wait until you get a load of this one.

I am a member of the family at a wedding in 1975 Soviet Russia. I am going to be wearing the most awful brown polyester dress you ever saw in your life...brown with little squiggles of other colors on it. They're dots, I guess, but each little (dime size) dot is made of concentric circles of beige and a kind of mustardy yellow and burgundy. Well, it's something like that, anyway - I was getting somewhat too overwhelmed with the ghastliness to want to look terribly closely. With this lovely creation, I'm wearing black lowish heeled shoes, the kind you always see on ladies whose ankles are bulging out above them...and, just as an extra added treat, support stockings. And they're getting me a panty girdle and a pointy bra. Which I will be wearing under the full slip that I'm ALSO wearing. They told me to set my hair very tightly and arrive at the set still in curlers and the hair and makeup people will take it from there. I GOTTA get a picture of this one. I just know it's going to be a high teased top with a French twist.

I must say, though, that as an actress, I love costumes, and the more period the better. I share with Laurence Olivier the notion that the clothes make the character. If I'm going to play a Shakespearean queen, then by God, I want every bit of brocade and jewelry and sweeping skirt you can give me. It's a trick, really...the right clothes make you walk differently and even think differently. I remember playing Anfisa, the elderly Russian maid in Chekhov's Three Sisters, and my whole performance came together once I got that early 19th century drag on - particularly the iconic Russian headscarf. Actually, women already know this - really, isn't there a HUGE difference between running out to get groceries in those jeans and the old sneakers and putting on high heels and an actual dress? Whole different attitude there.

I am so tired. I walked over to the costume fitting, because there wasn't any more sensible way of getting there from here. It was on Greenwich St. and Spring, and when I went to HopStop to look it up, I was told to take a bus from Greenwich and Houston...which was only three blocks from where I was going. That seemed silly. As it turned out, it was only a twenty minute walk. I got fitted, got a bus home, and had been sitting down for a ripe old fifteen minutes before Sarah texted me shrieking for 20 bucks she needed - "It's an emergency, Mom!" Naturally, she needed it on her lunch hour.

So up I got, groaning and foregoing the BLT I had been about to make myself, and trotted over to Union Square to meet her. Not such a bad thing, as it turned out...she talked me into going to Blimpie's for lunch (which I really couldn't afford, but couldn't resist - yeah, I know not being able to afford Blimpie sounds weird, but remember that these fittings earn me a quarter day's salary, 32 bucks and change, but count as a full day of work as far as unemployment is concerned - meaning I lose money on the deal - one day of unemployment being roughly 57 bucks). I can be seduced by a Blimpie Best any time. Should any of you be interested, I can ALSO be seduced (much more easily - should take about eight seconds flat) by fresh caviar. I just pass this on, in case anyone wanted to know. Anyone? Ah, well.

I'm sure you'll all be delighted to know that it turned out that Joshua's brain tumor hasn't returned. However, he now thinks he may have cerebral palsy. I can't wait for his next disease...the boy's a walking WebMD.

Love, Wendy

No comments: