The show we're working on now is 42nd street, and I'm doing wardrobe, running the show, so it's my responsibility to pull most of the costumes, the ones we aren't making, from the attic. The attic is the most indescribable place. I've had anxiety dreams that have taken place in a similar setting. The Inn was built in 1902, so the attic is creaking, splintery, and dark. There are thousands of costumes, jammed together, hanging from rusting metal pipes suspended by chains from the rafters. Pipes run along the floor too, at a variety of heights perfect for tripping. Overflowing boxes of costume pieces line the floor. Nothing is organized. It's also the hottest place imaginable. And I spend hours up there every day.
The big gossip today was that all the girls found some townie boys and they all went to the beach together and flirted and hooked up. I ended up knowing the townie boys from high school, and the whole thing just made me sad for some reason. I miss my rock star girlfriend, so out there she could never be a townie.
4 years ago