Swooshing

I went to Costume Hire on Saturday.

‘Is this a professional visit?’ ‘Yes, I need to be a wicked witch, no comments, please!

I’m wandering up and down the rails, looking at old costumes and reminiscing about them – here are the ‘Bedevilled’ dresses, matching late Victorian gowns in black and red velvet – I’ve worn both of them in my time. There’s Miriam’s* dress from The Cherry Orchard, and here’s the skirt we used for our play about Elizabeth Fry.

What I really want is a cloak, as I know I’ll never get into any of the dresses, so I’m searching the rails – plain black would work, but it isn’t very dramatic, but I pull a few out and try them on. I then go to the panto rails, and pull some cloaks from there. One is fabulous – black and ‘distressed’ with a huge boned collar and spikes edged with silver. I love it, but I know I can’t wear it or I’d have someone’s eye out in the row behind me.

And then I find it. It’s a vivid turquoise/emerald colour, lined with red, and has a black feather collar. I put it on, and I’m swooshing around (there really is no other word) in the limited space available. It’s slightly too long for me, being made for a man over 6 foot tall, but oh yes, it will work.

I can’t wait to wear it now.

*As in Margolyes, currently appearing in Wicked