Mood:  incredulous
Now Playing: Oscar Gowns--What were they thinking?
Topic: clothing
You'd think that, with the budgets these Hollywood women have to work with, they could come up with something flattering. Are they so blind that they can't look in a mirror and say, "This looks like SHIT?"

Major across-the-board no-no's: horizontal ruffles, pale, anemic colours, and huge trains. I can't give examples of who was wearing what, because I'm too old to be familiar with this crop of Divas.

I did see one woman wearing long gloves with her strapless dress. Elegant. When did gloves disappear from women's formal wear? Maybe when odd styles came "in," like one I saw last night; the gown had one long sleeve. I guess, given the option of wearing one or none, I would choose none. The offending gown was at least two sizes too big for its wearer, and a most insipid colour of pink.

Speaking of which, what's with all the pink?

Somebody had their gown built by somebody who usually does skating costumes--big flesh-coloured panel in the front, joining two sequined bands. Has your cleavage gone south, sweetie, or were you afraid your mom would be offended?

Sidney Lumet's wife looked lovely, when they showed her sitting in the box. I would have liked to see her on the carpet.

And Barbra...honey...just because you've put on a LOT of weight, doesn't mean you HAVE to hire Omar the Tentmaker! Sheesh! There must have been upwards of 10 yards in that dress! The collar-like necklace draws attention to your increased girth. And blonde hair with a lavender dress just makes you look...well...old.

A few rules:

Make sure it fits. I saw several that were too big, and many that were too small.

Don't wear a gown that isn't comfortable. Too many women were pulling at their oh-so-fashionable strapless, boned bodices. Those look good only if you have a perfectly proportioned figure. If your upper deck is small, your lower looks too large. If your ta-ta's are really bodacious, your gown better have a bustle!

Some of you ladies have a bit too much on the thighs to wear clingy gowns.

Gold lame is not a good choice for an extremely well-endowed woman, especially if it's a halter dress.

Do not wear anything made of satin that is gathered horizontally. Especially pink satin.

Don't wear more jewels than Elizabeth I. Earrings do not need to brush your shoulders. And don't wear those things that look as if you bought them at the auto parts store. You know the ones--those little chandeliers that make your car smell...better.

Skip the 6-foot train.

Comb out your hair. Many women looked as if they either forgot to do their hair at all, or didn't have time to comb out the curls. Including Oprah, whose gown was wonderful.

I know it's hard to get someone to do your make-up, but the guy from the funeral parlour shouldn't be an option.

Just because your tits cost a fortune doesn't mean you have to carry them around on a tray.

Rarely do I ever see anyone, anywhere, who looks "perfect." I saw nobody last night who fits that description.

God help me, if I ever have to attend so formal an occasion! I would wear something vintage, that FIT (hello), was simple, and, above all, comfortable. I would not have to lift it to walk, or pull on it to make sure I wasn't falling out of it.

Musings on Being In Theater
Mood:  chatty
Now Playing: Age Before Beauty
Topic: clothing
I've been hanging around the Sam Bass Community Theatre since it was known as the Sam Bass Theater Association (SBTA). That was a while back. I started out a terrified neophyte who had to be taught stage right from stage left. By the time the director had coaxed me out from behind the furniture, I had "the bug." I remained tremulous through about 6 shows. Sometime in there, the fun began to outweigh the fear.

My second adventure into acting was a lovely show called, "Come Back to the Five and Dime, Jimmy Dean, Jimmy Dean." Edna Louise, my character was an intriguing mix of dingbat and doormat. I knew I could handle that. She eventually confronts the bully who has been verbally abusing her through two acts; something I had never done. I found out that acting this out every day for a couple of months changed my life.

The Son of a Siberian Sasquatch was not really overjoyed with my new-found sense of independence. Somehow, my "meek factor" was just not up to snuff. I was out of there within the year.

Now Playing: Anne Of Green Gables
Topic: clothing
Teenagers and period costumes! What a combination! Sometimes I wonder what they think is going to happen when they audition successfully for a period play. From the general tenor of the complaints, I have decided the following:

Kids do not wear structured clothing, and find anything that doesn't stretch very uncomfortable. Did they think the were going to do Anne of Green Gables in hip-huggers and a tank top?

They have no concept of where their waists actually are. This leads to a rather interesting look, with their slave belts, or whatever, showing over their skirts.

One actress, partially dressed in one costume for the first time; she was wearing the bodice and the petticoat. She had the skirt (which matched the top) in her hand. She asked, "Does this go on over or under the petticoat?"

The garment we oldtimers refer to as a "camisole," is not the same garment these days, and girls have no idea what a slip is. They also tried to trade costume elements, as if costume were in no way connected with character. Socks were considered to be disposable items, even my lovely argyle knee socks.

With a couple of exceptions, the kids were polite and very pleasant to work with. I'd do it again in a heartbeat!

Mood:  caffeinated
Now Playing: Costume Ramblings
Topic: clothing
I've been costuming plays at a couple of community theatres for about 20 years. Never anything huge, like dragons; and my main skill is in adapting modern clothes to suggest period. Thank the goddess of costumes for "retro!"

I have learned a few things about theater costuming on a miniscule budget. I do work for a school, as well, so budget becomes very important there, too.

Currently, I'm working on a small production of Man of La Mancha. At the Sam Bass Community Theatre, every production is necessarily small. We tend toward minimalist sets, a lot of which have been downright ingenious.

The main consideration in costuming in such a space is the fact that there is very little distance between the actors and the audience.

But, back to what I've learned. First, in roughly chronological order, do not put a woman onstage in white flats, especially if the stage is at about eye-level. The audience becomes totally distracted, and carries away the impression of a woman with very large feet. Along with that, it is remarkably easy to upstage a character almost completely, by use of costume. An actess loves to hear from audience members that they were anticipating her next entrance, but the bloom goes off the rose a bit when that is followed by, "I couldn't wait to see what you'd come out in!"

One of the most important is the following: Actors: never, EVER piss off your costumer. The results can be very uncomfortable. I was in a show being costumed by a professional and very talented designer. From day one, the lead actress was very emphatic that she should have input into her costume choices. Not to put too fine a point upon it, she insisted on wearing a black gown. The director seemed unwilling to come right out and say, "No!" After some lame arguments, the costumer spoke up and said, "Oh, for heaven's sake! The set is going to be black; if you wear black, you'll disappear!" The actress retired with the sulks. The amazing thing was that when her costume was finally built, it required two dressers, its own undergarment, four safety pins, and nearly four minutes to get onto her, and when assembled, made her look twenty pounds heavier. It's OK for an actor to tell a costumer of any issues of import, such as a wool allergy. And issues of fit, if not apparent to the costumer, need to be brought to her attention. I fitted a boned dress onto a young actress recently, and had her ask if it could be taken in about half an inch. It looked fine to me, but I agreed to do it, thinking I had something of a prima donna on my hands. When I found out that she was a dancer, I realized that she was used to having structured costumes very tightly fitted. It's good to have actors comfortable, if possible.

It's raining again, and I'm gleefully watching the sweater I put out in the low spot in the back yard acquire the proper patina. It's almost time to turn it over and stomp on it some more. "Distressing" costumes is one of the little joys of the job.

Now Playing: I Love Clothes
Topic: clothing
I don't like shopping for new clothes. I'm not sure, but I think they are producing everything from the same sweatshop. I comb Thrift Shops, Goodwills and garage sales for my needs. I buy things I like, things I may be able to adapt for a play, things that may come in handy for a period plays in the future, and things that scream: "What were they thinking?!"

Around the house, I wear Tshirts and jammies. When dressing up, I wear vintage or classic styles. I'm sort of vintage, myself, so it all fits.

I am always on a quest for comfortable dress shoes. I'm beginning to think there is no such thing. The shoes I wore all day long, in my youth, send shooting pains through my feet in less than an hour, nowadays.

Some of my favourite garments are long formal kilts. I know that, traditionally, women did not wear kilts, but, if they're going to make them, I'm going to wear them. They look dressy and flattering. They are Style, not Fashion.

Funerals, Weddings and Bar Mitzvahs
Now Playing: Suitable Attire
Topic: clothing
When my mom died, in 1977, it was a shock. As far as I knew, she was in pretty good shape, for a 70+ woman who smoked like a chimney.

My (ex)husband and I, and our brand new baby, lived in Austin at the time, and most of our friends were acoustic musicians. We got together for barbecues, and the most heated discussions were along the lines of whether Blind Lemon Jefferson was a better blues man than Leadbelly.

That's just to point out that our social life was not sartorially demanding. Our money was spent on food, diapers, beer and guitar strings, not clothes.

My wardrobe contained nothing that was suitable for a funeral. Even if it had, it wouldn't have fit, due to my post-natal status. So, I borrowed a dress. I was assured by the lender that it was just the thing for a funeral, because she had bought it to wear to her father's wake the year before. It was navy blue, with white polka dots. Fine with me, as Mom had always said she wanted no black at her funeral. It was a mini, made of that sleazy polyester jersey so popular in the 1970's. And it was a bit snug in strategic places, due to my aforementioned post-natal status.

So, dressed up in the "suitable" dress, baby in arms, I was on my way up the aisle at the funeral home, to take my last look at my mother's face, when I heard a ripping sound and felt a draft. Yup, the worst had happened. The cheap plastic zipper had succumbed to stress. I stood in front of my grieving father and about 100 of his closest friends, suffering a major wardrobe malfunction. I unwrapped my baby daughter, threw her blanket over my shoulder, and quietly walked out.

A very nice lady, who eventually became my stepmother, had a purseful of pins. She came to my rescue, and the funeral proceeded.

I learned two things that day. The first was that every adult should keep in his/her wardrobe an outfit suitable for weddings, funerals and Bar Mitzvahs. Two, actually--for different seasons. Something neutral in colour, conservative in cut, that can be dressed up or down with scarves or jewelery. It doesn't have to be fashionable, just suitable. And that includes shoes. I have never since been without such a costume.

The second lesson was, ALWAYS carry safety pins.