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*snort* oh dear god - my life as a boy
Feb. 24th, 2006 10:21 amOkay, so I have this audition to play Billy Tipton today. Billy Tipton, if you didn't know, was a girl, who lived her life as a boy so she could be a jazz musician. And no one knew, not even the three women s/he married at different points in her life and their adopted children, until the funeral director called after Tipton's death in 1989.
Now, the casting notice is all, must be believeable as a man!!!, so I figure, I got butch it up for this a little.
After much ransacking of my wardrobe, I come up with: black cargo pants, a blue men's work shirt, a black tie (notably, my black Karl Lagerfeld tie that I love with all my irrational heart). at this point I realize I need more, my waist and shoulders are so little, it's hard to disguise. Ahha! I have this fabulous tan suede jacket I bought a few years ago, because it was clear to me someone had seen the old Battlestar Galatcia's and just seriously toned it down and then sold the design to Express. Brilliant!
So I walk into the bathroom, looking for my hair stuff (of which I can't find anything) and am greeted by the sight of me in all this in the mirror, but my hair is still down and wet and doing what it does these days, and I'm still this angular boney little soul, and I'm just saying, it's like '70s HP crack!fic central around here. Not good, not good. Funny, not good.
On the butch scale, I probably look marginally more masculine than Daniel V. in Nick's suit. Which is to say, I still look like a girl.
WHERE THE HELL IS MY HAIR STUFF? although the temptation to go out like this is actually pretty strong, too bad I have to go to work first.
Hrrr.
ETA: Shit, I just put my hair up, and it's totally believeable. eeee, now I got to get nervous about this baby.
ETA2: I am so funny. The audition is SUNDAY. Yay test run. Now to change! Wow, so glad I figured that out before I left the house.
Now, the casting notice is all, must be believeable as a man!!!, so I figure, I got butch it up for this a little.
After much ransacking of my wardrobe, I come up with: black cargo pants, a blue men's work shirt, a black tie (notably, my black Karl Lagerfeld tie that I love with all my irrational heart). at this point I realize I need more, my waist and shoulders are so little, it's hard to disguise. Ahha! I have this fabulous tan suede jacket I bought a few years ago, because it was clear to me someone had seen the old Battlestar Galatcia's and just seriously toned it down and then sold the design to Express. Brilliant!
So I walk into the bathroom, looking for my hair stuff (of which I can't find anything) and am greeted by the sight of me in all this in the mirror, but my hair is still down and wet and doing what it does these days, and I'm still this angular boney little soul, and I'm just saying, it's like '70s HP crack!fic central around here. Not good, not good. Funny, not good.
On the butch scale, I probably look marginally more masculine than Daniel V. in Nick's suit. Which is to say, I still look like a girl.
WHERE THE HELL IS MY HAIR STUFF? although the temptation to go out like this is actually pretty strong, too bad I have to go to work first.
Hrrr.
ETA: Shit, I just put my hair up, and it's totally believeable. eeee, now I got to get nervous about this baby.
ETA2: I am so funny. The audition is SUNDAY. Yay test run. Now to change! Wow, so glad I figured that out before I left the house.
