It's good to have a supportive girl friend. Especially one who is willing to risk annoying you to help you face some of your own funky behavior.
Jen finally pointed out that my costume collection was getting a little too numerous. I was indignant at first. Each of those costumes is a passionate love affair. They are rapturously selected (usually in a Love-At-First-Sight moment) or made for me, worn with joy, carefully maintained and stored. In fact, I always consider the dance venue when determining which costume to wear: will there be tipping which involves people touching the costume? is there carpet, stone or wood flooring? indoor? outdoor? kids? stage? restaurant? home? band? etc.
After being danced in, the costumes pieces go into separate cotton laundry bags in my dance bag. At home they are laid out on the floor overnight; then the next morning, they are brushed down and the bras turned inside out and laid in the sun to air out. Eventually they are repacked into the canvas storage boxes.
Each costume is a story, an event, a relationship.
But many costumes were doing hard time on the shelves, lonely in their labeled, vented, canvas boxes (with carry-case handles for quick transport!) They sat for a variety of reasons mostly having to do with the bra size (I had a strange habit of buying #3s with a vision of "doing something" to make them fit better,) or because a new costume had become the harem favorite.
It took Jen a year of gentle encouragement to get me to photograph and measure a single costume and post it on the Bhuz costume swap. Even then I felt like I was returning a puppy to the Animal Shelter. Costumes are different than ordinary belongings, like clothes, CDs or books. They are like wedding gowns, perhaps. Somehow it feels weird to sell something so personal.
Now, after posting and selling and mailing off a couple of costumes, I've gotten used to it. And it helps that the new owners have written to say how much they love the costumes.
And so I was prevented from descending into costume-hoarding. That's what friends are for. Plus she is buying one from me...
Jen finally pointed out that my costume collection was getting a little too numerous. I was indignant at first. Each of those costumes is a passionate love affair. They are rapturously selected (usually in a Love-At-First-Sight moment) or made for me, worn with joy, carefully maintained and stored. In fact, I always consider the dance venue when determining which costume to wear: will there be tipping which involves people touching the costume? is there carpet, stone or wood flooring? indoor? outdoor? kids? stage? restaurant? home? band? etc.
After being danced in, the costumes pieces go into separate cotton laundry bags in my dance bag. At home they are laid out on the floor overnight; then the next morning, they are brushed down and the bras turned inside out and laid in the sun to air out. Eventually they are repacked into the canvas storage boxes.
Each costume is a story, an event, a relationship.
But many costumes were doing hard time on the shelves, lonely in their labeled, vented, canvas boxes (with carry-case handles for quick transport!) They sat for a variety of reasons mostly having to do with the bra size (I had a strange habit of buying #3s with a vision of "doing something" to make them fit better,) or because a new costume had become the harem favorite.
 |
| I loved you so much |
Now, after posting and selling and mailing off a couple of costumes, I've gotten used to it. And it helps that the new owners have written to say how much they love the costumes.
And so I was prevented from descending into costume-hoarding. That's what friends are for. Plus she is buying one from me...
No comments:
Post a Comment