Queen of Naboo

Because I didn't have enough challenges in my life, I decided that the next Damn Dress (aka "3D") would be Queen Apailana of Naboo. I thought it would be a good, challenging yet doable, winter project. Granted, my last records are two years at a minimum, but I thought that after two dresses (two and a half, counting Junior) I might actually know what I'm doing.

This is partly because I caught Revenge of the Sith the other day, and also because The End is in Sight for Damn Dress Dos. I should finish the primary beading tonight on the second sleeve, which leaves me post-construction beading and the little bit on the neckline, which I currently don't have because it's still in Wichita. Besides, it's a cool-weather outfit and I doubt I'll actually wear it until October. The point is, Dos is almost done and I must start on something new.

I decided to fully immerse in my delusion of grandeur, so I began research. This is partly for my own information, but also because I know (having spent so many years lurking in the LotR fandom) that I will be called out on my ignorance. And rightfully so. Fortunately, Apailana seems to be a good old-fashioned fringe character, free of any Boba Fett-level obsession, so I was able to gather a good amount of information quickly. That's the good news. The bad news is that I may have already bitten off more than I can chew, and it's my own fault.

I became somewhat familiar with the 501st Legion through Planet ComicCon in Kansas City, and by "somewhat familiar" I mean "I'd heard the name before." I understood them to be a costuming guild (not that I've seen that word used; that was my impression.) The 501st was at this year's event too. I appointed myself as Liam's babysitter, so we walked around quite a bit, past the R2 units (which fascinated Liam to no end) and also past the gamers (because the kid is hard-wired for technology, I swear). We also saw several members of the 501st, including a very friendly Darth Maul who desperately wanted to hold Liam. Liam wasn't scared, but he does have a naturally suspicious expression, and Darth Maul tried very hard to make friends. He even took off his glove in an attempt to show Liam that he wasn't completely a red-and-black monster, that he had a regular human hand. Liam remained unimpressed. A few hours passed before, in making our endless rounds, we once again passed Darth Maul and Liam allowed himself to be held for a picture.

So, fast forward to this weekend, and I've begun my research. The 501st is a not-for-profit group that seems to do mostly charity appearances, which is funny because they're dedicated to the villains of the galaxy. Therein lay my first problem --Apailana is on the good side. (In canon she defied Order 66 and harbored Jedi on Naboo, which is why she was eventually assassinated by...drumroll please...the 501st!) So that led me to discover the Rebel Legion, which seems to be the exact same organisation, only with good guys. In fact, it looks like the Rebel Legion was also at Plant ComicCon, but I probably didn't notice them because I was too busy trying to keep Liam from crawling on top of R2.

So far so good. Being a costuming guild, they have specific garb requirements for every character, including Apailana, and one cannot actually join the group without having a "professional" grade costume. No problem -- because when it comes to costumes, my mother-in-law is the queen. (I haven't told her about any of these plans, which I imagine she'll greet with a sigh and "Oh, if you MUST" attitude, bwahahahah!) I also have located (thank you, Google image search) several full-length photographs of Apailana, which is good because she is shown on-screen in RotS for approximately two seconds, from the waist up.

The head-dress will give me trouble, I know. I don't mean the beading -- that'll be time-consuming, not difficult. And the feather/fan part, I think I have an idea of how to do that. It's the paste and base, the actual "helmet" part I view with uncertainty.

Turns out, the head-dress is the least of my troubles. Apparently the main fabric is impossible to find. IMPOSSIBLE. Like, it doesn't exist outside the original costume. The costuming standards do offer some leeway, but my sources indicate that I may have been a little too optimistic when I thought the base materials for the whole outfit would come in under $400. I hope that Sharon will dip into her magical well of fabric-finding power to help me find something that won't make my checking account cry out for mercy.

The moral of this story is, at one moment I'm thinking that this thing may be what drives to drink, but one the other hand...there aren't many Apailanas out there. Of the 393 Dignitaries of the Old Republic (Senate and Royalty) costumes found on the Rebel Legion site, only two are Apailana, and none are in the United States. Google images reveal a handful of cosplayers, but in terms of being part of a recognised organisation, with a distinctive, quality costume...all that may feed my beautiful and terrible need for acclaim.

And that, my friends, may be my undoing.

How I Miss the Stage

About thirteen years and fifty fewer pounds ago, I attended Emporia State University, where I had gone to become a teacher; then I decided I wanted to be a Shakespearean actress. Unfortunately, retail had yet to beat the "shy" out of me, and as soon as I made my move on the theatre program, I realised I had made a mistake. I felt like everyone else knew each other from the very first day, when I'm sure that they really just had more forceful personalities -- but just the same, I felt left out.

I never hated auditions until I went to college. I never liked them, either, but the longer I stayed in the program, I dreaded them exponentially. Professionally, of course, one can't go back to the director and ask "Why didn't you pick me?" but in school, being a learning experience, we were encouraged to do so. I sat down once with the department chair, who I liked, but I didn't learn anything because (in retrospect, I realised) I didn't ask the right questions. Later, I took a class with him, and I learned that he didn't like my style of acting. Again, I liked him even after I figured this out, but I knew that if he didn't go for my style, he wouldn't cast me.

I was further intimidated by my classmates. They all seemed like nice people -- I never got the impression that any of them were cutthroat or backstabbers. But the girls were all thinner and pretty and more confident. Three strikes.

But I wanted to be in Shakespeare plays. One thing I did learn from the theatre chair was that directors want to cast people. They have a problem, and they want the auditioner to solve it. (I've also used this philosophy when going on job interviews -- "I'm here to be hired and thus solve your problem!") And I figured that if I knew my Shakespeare, I should seem like a great candidate for a show, regardless of my physical imperfections.

So the department decided it was time to put on a Shakespeare show -- Much Ado About Nothing. I love this show, plus it's a comedy, so I thought my style would lend itself well to the material. I was further encouraged when, at the beginning of cattle-call auditions, the director announced that he wanted to see a BIG PERFORMANCE. Jim Carrey-big. Over-the-top big. I thought, "Perfect!"

I got up to read for Beatrice, in the scene in which she and Benedick declare their love for each other. (A year or so after this, I spotted the gentleman who read for Benedick in a production of Measure for Measure for Shakespeare in the Park in Kansas City.) Great play, great scene, great character -- I was set. I stepped on stage, got about four words out of my mouth, and the director interrupted.

"Not you. You need to take it down."

I was stunned. Did he seriously just tell me that I was more showy than Jim Carrey?

I muddled through the audition. I think I may have gotten a callback, but I didn't attend. I dropped out of college by the end of the week.

Ever since then, it's been difficult for me to watch live theatre. I want to go, I want to enjoy the performance, but there's always a tiny part of me that feels like every time I see a show, I feel my dream die all over again. I'm glad that, during M-ACT's production of Bye Bye Birdie, I'm up in the balcony concentrating on the lights, and even though I've seen the show a dozen times, I still thoroughly enjoy it. The last couple nights, during the finale, when everyone is on stage singing, "Spread sunshine all over the place," I tear up a bit because it's so wonderful to watch. Yes, I want so badly to be onstage singing along. But for the first time since that last audition, I can be content in the audience.

Rehearsal

Being in charge of hair and makeup for a musical isn't easy, considering I really don't know what I'm doing. Fortunately for me, no one else has apparently done this job in a while, so I get a lot of leeway for just volunteering to do it.

Last night was a preview, of sorts, for hair and makeup. I didn't expect the girls to know how much makeup to apply, which is fine, although I was surprised to learn how many of them don't own lipstick. I love lipstick. Anyone who knows me will say that I'll wear lipstick even without any other makeup. I guess lipgloss is the way to go now. Maybe I'm out of touch!

But, otherwise, most of the girls looked good. They were generally cooperative when I came at them with blush, though a few are resisting my directions about the hair. I've let it go for now; I'll wait until tech week, when I'm armed with a can of AquaNet and I can say, "You're not going onstage until I approve you!" Maybe I'm a little drunk with power.

My Manifesto, So to Speak

I eat pasta so I don't have to go to rehab.

The way I see it, if I stop eating pasta, the weight just falls off of me, and then everywhere I go, people start taking my picture, and then they start flying me to fabulous places and they throw money at me and I have to wear ugly clothes on the catwalk, and I have to fight the other models, and then I'll develop an eating disorder and have to take a lot of heroin, and then I'll end up in rehab.

I don't want to go to rehab, so I'll continue to eat pasta.

I gave blood again yesterday. Another successful donation! I'm on a pretty good run here, after being deferred so many times for being slightly anemic. But as it turns out, having a low-stress job and eating good food and getting some exercise really helps with overall health! WHO KNEW???