2 Weeks and Counting
All systems go
Having been explaining to people that my 'soup and fruit' lunches are the 'on stage in my underwear in 6 weeks!' diet, the realisation suddenly hits me that it's now 'on stage in my underwear in 2 weeks!' Rehearsals have almost totally taken over my life - there are full run-throughs on Tuesdays and Thursdays, with call backs on Wednesdays, plus make-up and costume workshops on Mondays. Oh, and publicity events at the weekends. I think my family is completely fed up of me saying 'I'm off dancing again tonight - make yourselves a Pot Noodle and clean the house!' Honestly, they won't know who this strange woman is, who has suddenly appeared in their living room, once the show's over.
Underwear? You were lucky!
At least in the underwear numbers we do actually have costumes sorted - unfortunately the costume people have been badly let down1 and so we have to make or finish off many of the other costumes ourselves. I am the world's worst seamstress but, fortunately, I have a friend with a sewing machine who I will owe a large favour or two to afterwards! Top Hats are in short supply as well - I borrowed one at the last rehearsal from someone who obviously has a much bigger head than me2 and give the other girls in the Gershwin tap medley a hard time trying to keep a straight face as, with the hat somewhere round my nose, I bear an uncanny resemblance to Freddie 'parrot-face' Davies.
There is one proto-type silver waistcoat for Happy Feet, which I am definitely going to pinch after the show because it suits me so well. But we are told to obtain long-sleeved black leotards to go underneath. I duly head down-town at lunchtime - only to find that the shop doesn't open until 2 pm. Don't quite know who to pass the bill to for the 300 euros worth of retail therapy I incur while waiting for it to open.
And here's a handy tip - when removing a sequinned boob-tube, do not attempt to roll it down over your fishnet tights as the sequins will snag in the individual holes. There, now don't say this column isn't informative.
There are the odd perks - like an invitation to a reception given by the Ambassador, who is patron of our little group. I take along my best friend, SarahLMH, who (suitably emboldened by a few glasses of champagne) demonstrates what chutzpah REALLY is by chatting him up and getting her photo taken presenting him with a plate of Fererro Rochers. He didn't seem to mind, bless him...