(no subject)
May. 2nd, 2003 09:34 amI do still exist. Although in a state of extreme exhaustion. Amanda is here, and we've been running around like crazy people -- the cabaret night on Wednesday (which was wonderful! And involved this woman with this incredibly old world sort of voice playing accordion and singing songs in French and then doing this awesome poem about the World Trade Center that didn't suck) and the piano bar last night and tonight, Boheme! Actually, we're about to leave the house to go get the rush tickets, which should be a long and moderately painful process.
I modeled for the lovliest art class yesterday in this incredible Victorian-era house, and there just aren't words for the pleasantness of being told I'm the sort of woman Vermeer would have painted, or that I have a face that suits that time period, or if one could just capture a certain reflection of light on my eye they would be a master. Huge fun. Even if I'm all achy for it today.
Anyway, got to throw my clothes for tonight in a bag and get ready to go, since I'm not standing on line all day in a red dress I wear for tango and a pair of heels, and I do believe in dressing for the theater for a number of reasons (a long tirade on this will surely follow my waxing poetic about the show tomorrow, as someone always wears jeans and I'm always fundamentally appalled).
I modeled for the lovliest art class yesterday in this incredible Victorian-era house, and there just aren't words for the pleasantness of being told I'm the sort of woman Vermeer would have painted, or that I have a face that suits that time period, or if one could just capture a certain reflection of light on my eye they would be a master. Huge fun. Even if I'm all achy for it today.
Anyway, got to throw my clothes for tonight in a bag and get ready to go, since I'm not standing on line all day in a red dress I wear for tango and a pair of heels, and I do believe in dressing for the theater for a number of reasons (a long tirade on this will surely follow my waxing poetic about the show tomorrow, as someone always wears jeans and I'm always fundamentally appalled).
Re:
Date: 2003-05-02 09:01 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-05-02 10:43 am (UTC)This thought occurs to me. Dressing up is like cosmetic surgery. It has to be an individual decision. It's one thing for me to decide that I really need to have a facelift, but there's something deeply wrong in telling another person, "I'm so appalled as how you look, you really should have a facelift." I think that's a line that shouldn't be crossed.
(Preemptive response: But going to the theater is a collaboration! Everyone who goes is on stage and acting a part, whether on stage, off stage or in the audience. My response: Okay, the people on stage and off are paid to be there. Who's going to pay me to dress up nice? Nobody? You mean I have to pay for the privilege of showing up, and then pay some more for my own costumes? Sorry, that show can close a little sooner for the lack of my dollars. Tell Broadway audiences that they need to wear casual formalwear, and you can count on the fingers of one hand the number of seconds it will take for advance sales to dry up and the theater as a whole to disappear.)
Re:
Date: 2003-05-02 11:28 am (UTC)Since you apparently think you already know my response (and you're wrong) it would seem to me that you are only interested in talking to hear your own head rattle, so I won't comment further.