I hate days when I run late, forgetting half of what I was supposed to grab as I run out the door. It was one of those days; I grabbed the costume and had to run back for the sewing kit. I forgot the measurement sheets, had to turn back around to go get them and then remembered while I was there that the cast list wasn't in my bag. Chaos where there should be none and normally wouldn't be had I not been running late from being on the phone.
On the drive across town, my mind went over the directions from the director. He was specific about the things he needed and the visions he had for them. It was not an easy show and the parts and pieces had to be correct. Most shows can be done from a distance, but this one needed custom pieces for the people involved. I was sure that I had everything the way he requested it, now it was going to be working with the actors to make it work. Latex bases would have to be built on the actors and the costumes would have to be fitted perfectly to accommodate mechanical aspects and still look like they were not there.
I finally found the theatre and pulled into the parking lot. I was a tad late but rehearsals were still going on. I sat in the car running through a mental checklist of the things that I would need for fittings while I gathered up my things. After being certain that I had everything, I got out of the car and headed to the backstage door. The clouds in the sky were promising storms, and I was hoping to be finished before they started as I ducked in the door.
I stumbled around, backstage being dark as the lighting tech was working on his craft. I could hear the voices from the stage still muddling through their lines. The smells of old wood and grease paint mingled with the dry air pleasantly. I stood there thinking how much I love what I do and was secretly thrilled to be a part of all of this, even though outwardly I tried to always maintain an air of detachment and professionalism. I just stood there, lost in my thoughts, thinking of the many shows I have done and the fact that I am always in awe of what we do. Turning nothing into something and letting the audience see the fantasy that they expect. Drawing them into a story and making them feel a whole range of emotions for the characters and their decisions as the show progresses. Being true to the roles we portray, all the way down to the clothes they would wear and the way they would carry their body or speak.
Suddenly, as I stood there lost in thought, someone touched my shoulder. I gasped, slightly startled as I had not heard anyone coming. In the dim light, I could see a woman's figure standing beside me.
"Can I help you?" she asked in a very low voice.
"I am here for first fittings; I have the Witch, the Mysterious Man and the Wolf.
"Oh! I have been waiting for you. They weren't sure what time you would be here."
"Can you point me toward the director? I need to speak with him and then we can get started. I brought some of the costumes that I need to fit."
She led me through the theatre, being careful to sidestep the set pieces that were scattered about in various stages of completion. When we stepped on the stage from behind the curtain, the lights were blinding. She led me down the edge of the curtain, off the stage and through row after row of seating. Finally, she found the director, a balding grey-haired man, whose deep resonating voice belied his small stature. He peered at me over his glasses, annoyed to have been interrupted but warming quickly when he realized what I was there for. We had never met in person and I was surprised when he stood up that he was only slightly taller than me.
"I see you have met Celia, she is the Witch. Why don't you just start with her while we finish up this scene, then I will send the others back to you. Is that alright? I am anxious to see what you have conjured up for us."
"Sure," I stammered
"Come on, my dressing room is this way," Celia said, turning and walking back through the rows of seats on the way back to the stage.
We went backstage once more, the darkness enveloping me, the sounds from the stage ever clearer and louder since I could not see. She led me again toward the door I came in through and then down a short hall. A soft light shone through as she opened the door to a small but nice room.
"Home sweet home, at least for this month," she offered, collapsing on the couch pushed against the far wall. Images of Celia stared at me from almost every angle making it seem as if there were many of her as I noticed that the room was full of mirrors. They hung on the walls, there were long ones to dress in front of, there were lit mirrors for her to put on make-up and each one was staring at me.
As I stepped into the room, the contrast between us became obvious in the reflections. Her dark hair shone black in the dark light hanging in soft curls on her shoulders, where as my soft blonde gleamed perfectly straight. Her body was much longer and thinner where mine was more athletic. Her breasts were quite small and set far apart, where mine were much larger and round. The only similarities between us were our dark, expressive eyes.
"Well, I suppose we ought to get started, let me grab my stuff." I grabbed the costumes I had brought and hung them on the pole hanging on the wall. "I think this one will fit perfectly, but this other one will have to be hemmed."
"Alright, hang on; I think I want a drink." She grabbed a bottle from the short table beside the couch and seemed to produce a shot glass from midair. The clear liquid filled the glass and she stuffed the bottle inside a minifridge sitting nearby. She held the glass up to me and downed it in one smooth graceful movement. "Okay, let's do this; I want to get out of here."
She stepped out of her loose skirt and pulled her t-shirt over her head, standing before me clad in only a pair of panties and sandals. I handed her the dress and helped her pull it on over her head being careful not to snag her long hair on the beadwork. The silky material slid down her body, sheathing her in the elegant dress. I zipped it up the side, adjusting the thin straps on her shoulders while I assessed the fit. She looked stunning in the long green gown. The black overlay with the beadwork hung in a clingy manner that accentuated her small breasts. She was dazzling even without make-up and the dress would fit the part perfectly.
We trekked back through the theatre finding the director on stage. He was barking at some poor girl who still did not know her lines and the veins popped out in his short neck. When he saw Celia, he stopped, motioning for her to turn. Over my arm was slung a midnight blue satin cape and I threw it over her shoulders fastening it deftly at the base of her throat. Her eyes widened and she raised her arms, letting the heavy, billowing fabric fall from them. Slowly, she walked across the stage, her steps sure and quick. The cape billowed out around her making her look magical.
"It is perfect!" the director said quietly. "I think it will be absolutely perfect."
"I like it!" Celia said snappily.
While she stomped around the stage, flinging her cape at other actors, I felt the blood rush back through my body. This was a huge job and the dress was not exactly what he had asked for. I felt as if I had been holding my breath for months as I stood there watching their faces light up.
When Celia finally finished strutting in her cape, we headed back to her dressing room. She was laughing and holding her garments off of the dusty floor. She pirouetted around in front of the mirrors as we entered her room, admiring herself, pulling her hair up then down.
