It was like a dream world. Racks of clothes, lines of shoes and two attentive people discussing how nice my rear looked in a pair of super tight skinny jeans. But of course the jeans were too long, the boots didn’t fit and the super ‘omg please let me have that’ tank top was swapped out for a different one that shows ‘maximum cleavage.’
No, it wasn’t a scene from a makeover show, it was me this morning at a fitting for my latest film project. I play a Biker Chick. Seriously. That’s my character’s name! Pretty descriptive.
I admit, I was a little nervous going in. I had no idea what they were going to dress me in. I assumed jeans (since Lisa, the Awesome Asst. Costumer, had asked me about sizes and brands of jeans) and possibly something leather since I was, after all, a biker chick.
It’s strange seeing a rack of clothes picked out just for me by people who haven’t met me before. There’s some sort of art to determining a person’s body type from a picture, and Lisa and Frank pretty much NAILED it. Here’s a note: you can often tell a lot about a production by the people working behind the scenes. A lot of the time, the costumers are tired and borderline cranky when they get to the extras, and that’s been the only time I’ve had to deal with a real wardrobe department in the past. The indie stuff I tend to do is usually one person doing costumes rather than a whole department. E-Von, who did the costumes for The 6th Extinction is amazing, but mostly it was ‘Here, put this sweatshirt on and get some mom-jeans from Walmart’ as his talents were really put to use for the Horsemen costumes (which were so awesome that they put my awesomeness to shame!).
So I walked in and waited for a few minutes and Lisa and Frank came out and took me into the room where I would put on some clothes for them to see. The first item? A pair of jeans.
When I say a pair of jeans, I actually MEAN a pair of skin-tight painted-on skinny jeans in a drab grey color that there’s no way in hell my legs were ever going to fit in because I have this little thing called thighs and I have calf muscles that put Olympians to shame. There’s no way these things are gonna go on. But I had to give it a go anyway, so after being handed a cute tank top an a pair of boots to go with it, I was left alone to figure out how to pry myself into this denim trap.
Slooooowly I was able to slide the jeans up my legs, though they really were painted-on tight. Got them over the calves, up to the knees, past my thighs– wait, I got them all the way up! And I buttoned them without a problem. FRANK! LISA! How did you guys DO IT? Just please don’t wash them in hot water or dry them on high heat or I’ll never get into them!
I admit, I was a bit smug for a moment. I got on this super cute pair of skinny jeans! They were just right, too. They didn’t make my legs look like sausages waiting to bust out of their casing or anything. I fell a little bit in love with those jeans. Then I threw on the tank top and sat down to tug on the boots. Only the top of the boots were soooo narrow, I couldn’t even get my feet into them. Which sucks because they were super cute and I had to make my sad face about them not fitting. So I padded out in my cute skull socks to see what they thought.
Frank made the twirling motion with his hand so I turned around and he suddenly declared that I have a FANTASTIC ass. My ass is amazing, he said in glee. I felt my face turn twenty seven shades of purple and red that have possibly never been seen outside of Photoshop’s neon color palette. It was decided that the tank top made me look too sweet and cute, so we swapped it for this epic one that was black and laced up. If I had to be reincarnated as a tank top, it would totally be this one. It took about five minutes for Frank to lace me into it, but it was sooo worth it. Threw on a black leather vest over it and I was suddenly a biker chick. Everyone was happy, but Frank decided he wanted to see one more tank top just to try it. So I took off the cute black one (glanced at the price tag which was more than I spend on groceries in a week!) and tugged on a grey one.
Wow. It was… uhm… low cut. Suddenly I wished I had worn a super cute bra, since my industrial strength ‘Hi I have a pretty big rack and it takes a lot of fabric to make my chest defy gravity in this way’ bra is not the cutest thing in the world but was suddenly partially on display for the world to see. It was decided that the girls must be shown to full advantage, so I’m gonna wear the grey top and we’d need to get me a super cute gravity-defying bra to go with it. Plus boots that fit.
They grabbed a pair of men’s boots to put me in so they could fit the length of the pants. And the tank top had to be taken up a bit, too. There was even an on-site seamstress who was busy hemming clothes just outside my makeshift dressing room. Aside from prom and my bridesmaid’s dress, I’ve never had clothes tailored to me, let alone a tank top and pair of jeans! I felt all special.
And honestly, that’s the important part. The production people there weren’t just nice, they made me feel special. I didn’t feel like some pretender who someone made the mistake of allowing on set. I felt like they were there just for me and me alone. It was a good feeling. Unusual, but good! I can’t say enough about the wonderful people I’ve encountered so far at their production offices.
Anyway, that’s my adventures in clothing for the day. Enjoy!