Thread: Weirdest costume creation moment?

I found myself today trimming a pair of ostrich shoes (full fronds just looked too much like novelty slippers) when I had a 'can't believe I'm doing this' moment.

Closely followed by me working out what my weirdest costume creation moment is (I decided between making the lion hand puppet have the right shade lipstick and the double wig thing I'm doing for my Heston Blumenthal sketch).

Which got me wondering - what moments have other people had where they realise they'd just sound insane if needing to explain what they were doing in a court of law?

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I usually get weird looks when I buy props that get used up in a performance.
Goin to the cash desk with glitter, Vasaline, bannanas, stockings and some condoms generally gets me funny looks, so it's even worse when I'm actually buying props.

There was the phone call to the hospital supply company where I was trying to calculate exactly how many rubber sheets I needed to cover the walking mobile telephone......
The phone call a girlfriend only heard my half of, which went along the lines of ' Nuns tarts and gypsies. It's always nuns tarts and gypsies. I could make my living alone from nuns tarts and gypsies.....'
The fitting I was in at English National Opera yesterday where I said 'The trouble is, you need to feel the tension through the crutch'. And was then surprised when the rest of the dressing room fell suddenly silent.
The 31st December 1999 where the only clean space in the house to put eyelets into frocks for the Millenium dome opening night was the bathroom floor, and my lodger came upstairs to find out exactly what I was doing squatting by the loo with a hammer at 5am.
The time I was up in Stratford delivering some frocks for the RSC, and was sharing a hotel bedroom with my assistant. In order not to wake her, and because we hadn't quite finished, I got up at 4am and went into the - you guessed it, bathroom - to cover the bra with the rubber snake.
Sitting on the Northern line covering the base plate of a bulls' tail ( made in the shape of a real one but of plaited leather to resemble a bull whip) and then inserting it into the hole in the back of a jock strap. In the rush hour.
Queuing at the post office to send a full body padding up to Manchester.
Pegging out rows and rows of pre-strung pheasant feathers in my back garden to get rid of the smell of mothballs before stitching them on to Papagenos' coat while my neighbours either side were both out cutting the grass.
Falling asleep on the tube with two tutus over each arm.
Trying to buy jock straps for a commercial in the South of France when I didn't know the French for jock strap.
Interviewing a new flat mate whilst engaged in shaving the fluff off the seam allowance of some fur breeches with a bic razor.
Walking into a fitting room to discover a particularly stupid singer had put his jock strap on back to front.
Chatting to my mother whilst removing some of the birdseed stuffing and taking a tuck out of a false willy, which had been deemed too long by the director.
Attempting to put a pin through Helena Bonham Carters' nipple.
Answering the door to the meter reader wearing a pair of 'polar bear' legs over my pyjamas.
Making a fedora hat on the train from Dublin to Galway.
Asking my next-door neighbour if I could borrow her body.
Turning up on a blind date with a transparent plastic bag full of half-made lace g-strings.
Stitching James Dreyfus' lederhosen with the bum cheeks cut out onto a dance belt whilst he was wearing them - and discussing property prices with him during the process.
Washing out a can-can dancers' knickers in the sink in the ladies loos at the Albert Hall and then attempting to dry them under the hand-dryer between the matinee and the evening show. On New Years' Day.
Finishing my sister-in-laws' wedding dress 20 minutes before she was due to leave for the church, as I had been somewhat busy with frocks for Northern Ballet Theatre.

etc.etc.etc. What a stupid bloody job!

Vx

Viva la Belvoir, i love you
You sound just like me.. but on the other side of the world. (You're right, it is a ridiculous job, but i couldn't imagine doing anything else!)

phew!

Viva La Belvoir you can't say your life is not interesting!

lol love it, Makes my moment sound positively dull

The lion hand puppet is a stroke of genius if you ask me!!

Wandering around Fabricland in Bristol mumbling to myself about how they never have anything nice in green.

Has anyone else noticed that...fringe, bead fringe, trimmings etc, are SO tricky to find in green.

Was telling my flatmate about the thread, and she reminded me of the occasion when I had to stick some silk flowers (it was only for a commercial, so the glue gun was allowed) onto the boobs of a 50's style dress for a very famous very large comedienne. Didn't have a stand large enough, so I stuck two colanders to the floor with gaffer tape and used them as the model.

She mentioned the time she woke up to find herself still slumped over the sewing machine, with the garment still under the presser foot. Some kind person had turned the machine off, but not actually bothered to wake her up.

The time I was laughing so hard at a fitting I impaled myself on my own scissors and had to have stitches.

The time I ordered a 'parcel car' ( i.e. delivery only, no passenger) from my friendly local cab firm, and had to tell them the 'parcel' was 21 pairs of polar bear legs for the National Theatre.

Getting prickly heat in my cleavage from cutting 12 white fun fur coats in 40 degree Italian heat.

Finding silver sequins in the bottom of the bath in Paris 2 months after I finished the dress back in London.

Ruining my microwave by 'cooking' birdseed. ( I should explain - it's a very good stuffing for realistic false boobs or bits, as it gives weight and the right sort of organic movement, as opposed to wadding, which is always a bit too perky. But because it is in close contact with the body, which can get hot and wet, it can start germinating, so you have to 'sterilise' or kill it. The usual way is to put it in the oven on a very low heat for a couple of hours, but I was short of time......)

Getting an allergic reaction to the astroturf shorts I was making.

Trying not to get caught surreptitiously dropping Christmas baubles on the floor in John Lewis to find out if they were shatter-proof or not, in order to use them on a Christmas tree costume.

No, it's not boring.....

Vx

Viva la Belvoir thankyou for giving me a coupel of mins good entertainment in what was otherwise a very boring day those stories are brilliant