109 Days In - Playing Dress Up

My most commented on blog entry, to date, has got to be that about doing background work on film and TV. Following the written comments of “is it really such-and-such a film? How cool”, and spoken questions of “so when are you next going to be on TV?” I began plotting a follow-up blog mercilessly berating the whole process and letting you all know how tiresome the job is.

And this is true - the pay is minimum wage, putting me below a temp; the hours are unpredictable, so you have to discount any plans for the evening; often you wait hours and hours to be fed, or don’t get fed at all; you sit around for an age (tired due to the extremely early start) and then have to walk from point A to point B 50 times in heels.

My personal nightmare anecdotes are: scene filmed in the desert, that was set in autumn on the west-coast (so I was wearing jeans and a jumper in temperatures of about 40C); the background waiting area in a car-park next to a four-lane road in the middle of down-town L.A.; the background waiting area that was being noisily set-up as the next set - drills and electric saws abound; the obnoxious loud person who is not happy unless everyone is inadvertently overhearing her conversations (and she showed up on a second show I was on); the eight-hour wait for a 5 minute scene, with no food; having my trousers stapled because the wardrobe person thought they were their’s (I didn’t say anything as they were already annoyed in my direction); the all night shoot; sleeping (not very well) with rollers in my hair, getting up at 3am for the call, only to have the curls brushed out.

The nature of “The Industry” (as they call it in LA) is that hours are unpredictable, which I get, of course. But I can’t help thinking that all this would be more than bearable if you didn’t get such a measly cheque at the end of it.

But I am going to put my complaining to one side for a moment, because this week I got to do two period shows, and what does a girl like to do more than get dressed up and prance about?

First you have to go to a fitting. Mine was at an enormous warehouse of costume-hire. I was walked past bustles and bonnets, muddied war-uniforms and top-hats. I love theatre, and this place had me grinning from ear to ear within two seconds of being in there.

My first fitting was for a 1960’s secretary. The lovely wardrobe ladies try me in several outfits, gave me fabulous but uncomfortable shoes, and a gorgeous thick winter coat. I envisaged a hot day’s work, but it matters less when you know you will look just marvellous darling.

The second was for 1940’s; a less glamorous look, but just as much fun - oh and we got given nylons with the line up the back.

On the work days I look eagerly for my costumes and then head to hair and make-up. Second bonus of period pieces: you get the full works. I was worried at one point that my eyebrows might be completely plucked out, but the atmosphere was buzzing with creativity, and I just thrive on that. Over the two days I got two up dos, lots of bright red lippy, and even vibrant coral-pink nails.

The days were hot, the mornings early, and I don’t even think I was caught on camera for either of them - but hey, I had fun.