Yes Man

This movie stars Jim Carrey. I was in Fun with Dick and Jane a few years ago…which reminds me…that’s another one I need to write up. I’ll have to take a wild guess about exactly when I was on it, though. I really don’t remember details other than where it filmed, it was fall and that I was booked with my Prowler, but got to drive a BMW production vehicle in a couple of takes because they needed a different car in the background and I’d worked with the coordinator before.

Things were different on Yes Man, though. Much different. I recalled from Fun with Dick and Jane that it had been a very long day, so I assumed it’d be more of the same for this gig, too. Comedies often take awhile because the actors will try different ad libs or different ways of delivering the written lines and see what works best. Scenes evolve rather than being static, cut and dried. All of the Will Farrell gigs I’ve been on were like that. To me, it has never been a hardship, either. I like to watch how everything unfolds and morphs and I find it very interesting. Plus, it’s neat to see inside the head of the comedian in those cases because there’s a general brilliance to be seen. It’s truly amazing.

I’ve heard from various people that Jim Carrey is unfunny when the cameras aren’t rolling. I didn’t find that the case. I saw him as very focused and serious, but not unfunny. When you’re making a movie, you can’t be silly all the time or nothing gets done and lots of production money gets wasted…which also makes no sense. Jim Carrey was great. Even when things weren’t going too well, he got over it and got on with the scene. (More on that later.)

I parked. I was shuttled. I went through wardrobe who almost liked what I was wearing. Almost. They were very, very, very picky on this show. I was a coffee house patron. The look was supposed to be very funky, but drab. Those are some of the toughest gigs to dress for. If I’m wearing funky clothes, they’re loud and well…funky…not drab and boring. I did my best, but was still given a shirt off the wardrobe truck. Oh well. I realize that the principle actor was wearing a dark suit for each of the scenes we were working on so if the extras were too bright, we’d accidentally upstage him.

I think, perhaps, my bone to pick isn’t with the costumers themselves, it’s with the vocabulary used by the casting directors when they’re trying to describe what sort of clothes we should bring. Had I been told to bring drab colors with interesting cuts to the garments or perhaps casual, hip grunge I might have faired a little better. But oh well. I got to wear my stuff for the first change and then add their shirt for the second change.

Then there was a little mix-up as to where we were supposed to go–catering or holding. I ended up going to catering, then holding, then catering, then finally to holding. I was okay with that. My only real hang-up was the general disdain for extras on this show. Between one of the costume assistants really talking down to us, the people on the car call who seemed soooooo much better than regular extras, plus the others who’d worked the show before, and a few general comments made by crew members that I’d overheard, I really dreaded working this day. I got out my book on Medieval history and tried to lose myself in it because I just don’t understand the mindset that extras are trash and should be treated as such. Don’t people realize that if they treat us like humans, we’ll act accordingly and even try to be good?

Anyhow, I sat in holding for the first scene, but was used in the second one. In fact, I did a cross right in front of Jim. On the first take, I thought we were going to collide! Doh! He didn’t get mad, so I figured everything was okay. And no one told me to do it differently, so I just tried to stay a little further out of his way. All was well. I did my little cross over and over for all the different camera angles and such. The day was feeling better. One of the ADs and a couple of the PAs were really cool and I appreciated that.

Lunch was good. I didn’t know I was supposed to be segregated on tables without tablecloths in a separate, walled-off part of the catering tent, so I plunked down at a nearly empty table and a group of PAs sat down with me. I had great conversation with a cutie named Tex.

When lunch ended, we were instructed to change clothes. I put on the shirt I got from wardrobe plus my jacket. All was well. I was placed at a table outside the coffee house and did the scene as I normally would. Two paparazzi guys showed up and were quite disruptive. That sucked pretty hard. I felt bad for Jim.

I then went back to holding for the following scene.

And then plans changed a little and all of us extras had to go back to wardrobe for another change. Okay, whatever. I was given another couple of shirts and off I went. We were instructed to stand outside so that the Costume Designer could inspect us again. Okay, now this is where everything went pretty far south for me.

Throughout the day, I was wearing two necklaces–one a choker, the other regular. I had been instructed to keep the same jewelry on through both changes. I did. Then, for this third, unexpected change, the shirts I was given had a higher neckline, so I had to lose the regular necklace. I left the choker on, assuming it’d keep me in that funky look they were going for. But at no time was I instructed anything in particular as far as jewelry went, so I just used my best judgment.

Okay, at the beginning of the day, there was a lot of degradation of the background actors, then it cleared up for me and I wasn’t annoyed anymore even though there were still a few “fuckin’ extras” comments here and there plus a few ridiculous attitudes. But standing there in front of the Costume Designer’s assistant–not the Designer himself, mind you–I heard the most humiliating thing ever said directly to my face. I realize it may not read rude or mean, but she said, “Take off that necklace because sometimes less is more.” with the attitude like I’m too stupid to dress myself.

A simple, “Lose the necklace.” or even, “We don’t need the necklace for this scene.” would have been totally fine. I wear what the costumers tell me to wear. I don’t second guess unless there’s something really lame about what I’ve been instructed to wear (ie. the gigantic scrubs I wore on Numb3rs). I wanted to tell the bitch that I’d been wearing it all day and the reason we were all here was so that she could make those kinds of changes without degrading us, but I was so flabbergasted at how rude she’d been (without even batting an eyelash, like it was totally acceptable to speak to extras like that) that I just unhooked it and tossed it in my purse. When the Designer arrived, he said we all looked wonderful and that it didn’t really matter much because we weren’t really going to be seen anyway. That pretty much shut her up, but she was still looking at the rest of us and still wanting to make us change something.

Even in the morning, when I walked up to the wardrobe truck, I’d sensed that she was one of those costumers who changed extras just for the sake of changing them. I swear some of them do that. They may not realize it, but some of them do. If there are four costumers checking out us extras, I’ve noticed on some shows that there’s one or two who feel like they’re not doing their job if they don’t change anything about what an extra shows up in while others do a thorough once-over and say we’ll pass or maybe ask if we have something simple like a different shirt or pair of pants rather than a complete overhaul. I understand they’re just doing their job, but when I change from one green outfit into another green outfit, I wonder whether they’re really doing their job or just exerting their control over us stupid little fucking extras. Can you tell I was irritated?

It doesn’t even have to do with the fact that I’m very into my clothes and have a wardrobe the size of their truck all in my size at home. (No kidding! Just ask Jen or Jason!) That’s not even what pissed me off. It’s the attitude. Hell, I could be in the position to hire her someday and I sure as hell won’t…and I’ll tell all my friends not to hire her, either. These people should think before they talk down to extras. They really should. They just don’t know who we are or are going to be someday.

So, for that last scene, I was feeling pretty crappy and didn’t want to verbally vent about it… I got out my iPhone instead. Here’s an excerpt of what I wrote during the whole time (At this point, I was playing coffee house patron with iPhone and using it in the scene.):

I am so pissed off right now I could scream. I handled it with grace, but that was fucking mean. Does she really think all extras are stupid? Does she realize that if she showed us some respect, we might try a little harder? …It’s clearly not us, it’s her. I don’t even care if anyone is reading this over my shoulder. I am that pissed off. I’m even writing this between takes I’m so incensed. I want to cleanse this feeling because the day was resurrected until that moment. And I’m almost at 12 hours of being here… This was a record worst. And she clearly felt no remorse at her words. This was an acceptable thing to say to an extra…to another human being. How mean!!!!!!! Venting on my iPhone sure is nice. Then I don’t have to be outwardly grumpy. I can keep this all to myself. Whew… I’ve been treated pretty badly before, but that really took the cake. Seriously. Totally mean…totally rude.

During the scene and in between I got everything out of my system and started feeling much, much better. Here’s some of what I wrote after I calmed down… (the scene itself was going to hell, however.):

Rolling again. Should work great then. Going again. Quick scene. Having trouble tearing a sheet of paper without it going screwy. Rigging in progress. I love Hollywood. Again. I am trying to make it look real. Wide at the beginning. Split second only. The shot is real quick. I don’t think they realize that I’m really writing. This is fun again. My iPhone saved my day. Might not actually still be in it. All well and good to me. I’m having a good time again. I’m so calmed down now, I want to sleep. I like this, though. Makes me feel better. Got to IM with Jason during a take or two. He just randomly SMSed me during the scene. That was funny. Day’s getting long, but I’m totally okay with that. Sometimes it’s the little scenes that stick. Still going. Not too bad, though. Having a good enough time. Enjoying what I can while I can. Maybe I could use some caffeine. Broke a prop. Had to fix. Back in action. Slow going. Going. Going. Gah. And again. Long day getting longer. Painful for the crew. Painful for the actors. Been on worse, though. West Wing with Rob Lowe was worse because the scene was longer. It’s just the way it happens sometimes. And it happens all the time. I’m totally okay with it. A couple keep having to go in and out. They’re not thrilled. Yay! Got a great one, too.

Each of those sentences represents a take, I’m pretty sure. The trouble was with the action that Jim was trying to do. The props just weren’t agreeing with him and such a simple scene dragged on and on and on and on. But in the end, we had a really great take and then everyone was wrapped.

I can laugh about it now, but that’s the only part of being a background actor that I truly hate. People make assumptions that simply shouldn’t be made. I’ve met plenty of other extras who are producers, have gone on to bigger and better things, who are very important people and do extra work for fun. It makes no sense to treat us like shit. It makes no sense to treat anyone like shit. If it weren’t for the attitudes, this gig would have been absolutely fine. Sure, that last scene was a killer, but during it, there weren’t any anti-extra attitudes, so I was totally fine enduring all the troubles of the uncooperative pieces of paper and cork board. In fact, I can’t wait to see the finished product because the premise sounds great: A guy who used to say no, says yes to everything for a year.

Invasion – Update

So, while waiting to hear whether the fires were getting closer to me or being contained, I made good use of my time and hunted through the episode of Invasion I worked on.

It’s been two years exactly today! I didn’t realize it until I posted this! How crazy, coincidental is that? No fires around here in 2005, though. Certainly no firestorm that year, either.
Anyway, I didn’t expect to be in it, but there I was, right at the top of the scene. The guy I was sitting with didn’t make it in at all and I’m sad about that. He was a great table partner.

Deja Vu 2003 ~ SoCal Fire and Havoc

As I write this, friends of mine are being evacuated from their homes due to all the wildfires burning throughout Southern California.

In 2003, I was in the same boat. ‘Cept, I was working on a movie called Havoc.

This year, I’m hoping for the best. It seems worse this time, though. I dunno why, it just does. I’m also hearing that more homes are either threatened or have already burned. Maybe that’s why it seems worse.

In 2003, Jen and I were working on Angel In Moonlight. She called me asking when I was going to send her whatever the scene we were working on and I said, “Ummm, Jen…I’m packing up my dolls. There are helicopters over my house at all hours and I’m probably gonna have to evacuate. It’s gonna be a little while before you get the scene back.” It hadn’t hit her until that very moment that my house was threatened.

What’s kinda odd is that it actually still hadn’t hit me yet! I was packing stuff up, but I didn’t actually feel threatened. It didn’t hit until the fireman came into my house, telling me that I really needed to get my stuff and get out. But also, once it hit me, it was so out of my control anyway that I forced myself to shrug it off and cross my fingers that everything would be okay. I just went on with my life–modifying plans as necessary. I couldn’t come up with anything better to do with my evacuation time.

Right now, for me, the scariest thing is that the wind is blowing toward my house. There are two fires in my area. One would have to go through the whole city before it got to my place, so I’m not real worried about that one. The other, well, it’s close to the area that burned in 2003. It’d still take a few days to get all the way over here, though. I’m not hearing helicopters non-stop, so that’s encouraging. I’m worried for friends, not myself.

But, bottom line, now that I’ve been through it once, I’m much better prepared. I know more about what to expect if I have to pack up my stuff (turtles and tortoises included!) and evacuate.

Lucky You — An Update

My opinions of movies are never biased whether I’m in them or not. I go into watching everything I’m in hoping it’ll be good, but letting it be whatever it’s gonna be. So I didn’t expect Lucky You to be so damn good. I mean, really, really good. And I’m not even a poker fan. I really enjoyed the writing and the way the story was put together and the authenticity of all the professional poker players.

Somehow, even though all the actors were using their poker faces most of the time, I was still kept interested one way or another. Great movie. A surprise treat for me, even.

But the real reason I’m making this post is because I nabbed a couple of screen captures and wanted to do a little update. I didn’t think I’d be in the movie at all, but I managed to get a few frames…

I walked in with a group of people and we were seated off to the side.

Kinda neat to be seen over Drew Barrymore’s shoulder. She’s pretty cool. I overheard her chatting with a security guard earlier in the day.

I figured the whole scene would look more like this last one and you’d just have to take my word for it that I was there.

Great movie. Rent it, buy it, see it.

A Spot of Tea

I’m not a coffee drinker. Sorry, don’t pelt me with rotten fruit. I just don’t like the way coffee tastes.

And would you believe I still get chided for not knowing that ‘coffee cake’ does not have a lick of coffee in it because I’d avoided it simply because of its name? Yeah, I was 27 when I learned that coffee cake doesn’t necessarily have coffee in it. You see, I sooooo dislike the taste of coffee that I was unwilling to take a chance on something with coffee as part of its name. I just don’t like the taste of coffee.

I’m still wary of the stuff.

It’s no secret that I’m a weirdo and my dislike of coffee is certainly a contributing factor. I like the way coffee smells, just not the way it tastes.

So it’s a damn good thing I fell in love with tea in high school.

At first, I mooched off Mom’s Lipton. Then I learned there was more than one brand in restaurants and they taste a little different from Lipton, but pretty close. Then a boyfriend of mine introduced me to oolong…but I thought it was a little weird. I drank it, but I still preferred that Lipton kind of taste.

Then, tea played a little role in the 11-day courtship following meeting my husband. He’s a coffee drinker, but he likes tea as well. That was one of the things we talked about on our first date, actually. Tea. And that Lipton had made a cold brew version for iced tea. The day after our date, I mailed him some…just ’cause I like him. I knew he was ‘the one’ for me from the getgo and I somehow knew he’d appreciate the gesture. He did…I got a phone call from him shortly after. Yay!!

Since then, we’ve visited the Chinatown here in LA. We’d wandered into Ten Ren Tea and a whole new world of teas opened up and swallowed me! I couldn’t get enough. I discovered that the reason teas taste different is because there are different types and processes and growing regions and estates. I surfed the web for more and more and more and more information.

Until I got bored reading about it all and decided that I just wanna drink the stuff. I tend toward oolongs and greens, but love a good black tea now and then. I like varietals and single origins, but don’t infuse ’em with them fruits and berries or any other non-tea leaf. Nope, not for me. I’m apparently a purist.

I’ve since discovered Wing Hop Fung for teas as well. They’ve got a huge variety and they give free samples. Plus, if you want to try one, they’ll brew it up right there and see if you like it enough to buy.

A few months back, they gave me a little sample of a mystery tea. It was in a little green pouch and while there was no Chinese on it, there was also no English…just a number. Hmmm… A whole day went by until the curiosity was unbearable. I brewed it up and good golly, I was hooked on this mysterious 1222 and had to go get more.

Next time I was there, I brought the pouch with me so I wouldn’t forget the number and hunted through the aisles of huge glass jars until I found the number I was looking for. But that couldn’t be right… The tea I loved couldn’t possibly have ginseng in it. Ginseng tastes horrible. Every time I try a ginseng tea, I wanna gag. How could the mystery tea I loved so much be infused–with ginseng no less–and still taste good? It must’ve been a mistake. I pulled off the lid and sniffed. That was the stuff all right. So I got a quarter pound of it and am enjoying it even as I write this post. Yum.

In Second Life, my avatar, Twyla Briggs, drinks it non-stop. I even modified the script so she’d sip more often than every 15 seconds. I can’t help it. I love the stuff. I love the way it tastes and wish I could drink it all the time.

I’ve turned into such a tea snob. I’ll drink that cheap-o, thrift-o, get-it-anywhere-snore Lipton because it’s still tea and I still love it, but I’ve come to prefer loose leaf teas. Their flavor is much brighter. I bring my own (sometimes including my self-warming pot because hotel coffee makers flavor the water too much) when I go on vacation. And since there’s almost always hot water available when I’m on movie sets, I bring my own there as well.

So, there you have it. My one vice. I don’t drink, smoke or do any kind of drugs…except snooty, caffeinated teas. Just another of my eccentricities. In fact, I think it’s my most expensive! Well, as far as food or drink is concerned…

Leeloo’s Wig

One of the main identifying characteristics of Leeloo is her orange hair. I’d assumed that finding an orange wig wouldn’t be that difficult.

It wasn’t…

However, finding one that was a deeper orange than traffic-cone, fluorescent orange proved to be much more difficult. And since the wig had to be reasonably precise, I couldn’t just surf the ‘net for one. But I also didn’t know where to go other than Hollywood Blvd. That was the only place I’d seen more than two wig shops within about five blocks of each other.

However, whenever I’m anywhere in the vicinity of a vintage shop, I can’t resist the magnetic pull. I must go in. I must shop. I rarely walk out empty-handed, but it has happened a few times. On the day I got the wig, I also found this beautiful *cough, cough* peacock jumpsuit.

Oddly enough, about six months later, I found a dress made from the same fabric. I’ll be merging the two garments eventually. Right now, they grace my crap room with the rest of my projects in various states of not done/not started/I dunno what this was for, but it was nifty, so I acquired it because it was cheap.

So, after going to all the shops and sighing because they just didn’t have a short orange wig, I settled on a longer wig–more expensive, of freakin’ course–that I’d swindle my hair dresser into cutting. The styling would happen over the course of two weeks, with lots of hair gel, bobby pins, and T-pins. The wig experience was the easiest piece.

Actually, that’s a lie. The boots were the easiest: I walked into my closet and picked out the pair that looked the most like Cancan shoes and the boots Leeloo wore in the movie. I had about fifteen pairs of black boots to choose from. This was not a difficult decision, either, because I still had to be able to dance in the boots, too. (More on my shoes and boots collection in future posts, I’m sure.)

The Changeling

This is a first for me. I’m writing this a couple days after this shoot actually happened, but not posting it until after I’m supposed to be back on the show. There were very strict rules and a lot of paparazzi on this show and rightfully so. I don’t want to jeopardize my returning for the second part of this gig. There’s always a significant chance that I won’t be recalled, but since I really want to come back, I’m not taking any chances! This was an awesome day for me.

It took an eternity to get to the set because the freeway by my house lost a few lanes in a tunnel fire and it hasn’t been repaired yet. But I did get where I needed to be on time at least. I’d left early enough.

I parked. I was shuttled. I got my wardrobe (1928…I’d been fitted a few weeks earlier). I got into my clothes. The costumers let me use my only 1920s purse (YippieYay!). I was shuttled to holding. I had my hair done (well, the lady made it look appropriately yucky and messed up for the role). I walked to make-up and something interesting happened.

Normally, I don’t wear make-up. I might put on eyeliner twice a month for the fun of it, but I’m really inexperienced when it comes to putting on make-up and for this show, there was a whole list of instructions on how to do it. I was terrified and didn’t feel comfortable doing it myself, so I packed a few things into a little bag and brought it with me to show that I wasn’t trying to be difficult, I just suck at make-up. Well, when I sat down in the make-up lady’s chair, she didn’t say a thing about me not wearing any make-up. I silently yelped for joy.

I’ve got a red spot on the bridge of my nose which make-up artists usually spackle over immediately, so I wasn’t surprised when the make-up lady went right for it with a brush… Except the palate she was working from had all these crazy colors like blue and purple and dark green and various shades of red.

She wasn’t covering my red spot, she was using it! I was now the proud owner of a slightly bloody nose!

Then, she darkened the circles under my eyes a little and made my cheek look like someone had punched it a day or two ago. Woohoo!!!!!! Best make-up experience I’ve had in a very long time. First blood since Angel, too.

I then walked back to holding while getting many a strange look. Yay!

I sat in holding for what felt like eternity but was perhaps a couple hours. It was a pretty nice day. Not too hot, not too cold. Same holding I’d been in when I worked on the Ring II, except the set wasn’t a women’s home in present day, it was a loony bin in 1928. I was what was called a Code 12 patient which means that I probably wasn’t crazy, but I was perhaps having a bad PMS day and my husband called the asylum to take me away because I was being rowdy.

Clint Eastwood is directing and has a different, much quieter style than every other set I’ve been on. Usually, there’s a lot of yelling of commands and such. On his set, there’s a peaceful respect and serenity that comes from speaking rather than yelling. I wish more sets were like that. It was because of that lack of yelling that I hadn’t even realized they’d started filming for about an hour into the time.

When I was finally brought to set, Mr. Eastwood watched us all go up the stairs and then as we awaited further instructions, picked me to be in the front. I was, after all, the only one with blood on my face. I really looked like I’d seen better days. There was a principle actress fourth in line behind myself and two other extras. Our action was simply to walk down the stairs because we’d been freed. Angelina Jolie’s character had gotten us outta there and she was at the base of the stairs, but we weren’t instructed to react to her, so we guessed that we didn’t know it was by her doing that we got out of there.

Some sort of moment between the principle actress and Angelina happened, but that was the extent of the whole thing. We were all just supposed to keep on walking past her and down the sidewalk.

This was the first set I’ve been on where a rather large group of paparazzi showed up–complete with rocket-launcher-sized lenses on their cameras. They were seriously slimy and had no consideration for anyone who was working there. They didn’t even get out of the way when locals with strollers were trying to use the sidewalk. How very rude.

I suppose some of the tight security rules were because of those people, but I’m not sure. I’d just never been on a set with so many specific rules about things we could do, couldn’t do, identification regulations, all sorts of stuff. I was okay with it all, but I also found it a bit tiresome and annoying. I mean, why can’t people just be good so we don’t have one or two spoiling everything for the rest of us?

Anyhow, I spent a few hours or so leading the group of extras down the stairs in each take. It was great. I got within about three feet of Angelina Jolie and John Malkovich and about a foot away from Mr. Eastwood–whom I can now also add to the list of celebrities who have spoken to me. Yay!

If this scene makes it into the final picture, there’s a great chance that at least one frame of me will, too. That’d be nice.

My Three Favorite Characters – Part 3

You’ve read my views on Malcolm Reynolds and Captain Jack Harkness. Now, let me introduce you to my favorite character of all time.

Methos from Highlander.

I know I’m not alone in loving Methos. In fact, I don’t know of anyone who isn’t intrigued by him. Sure, I love Duncan, too, but he’s too good guy heroic—almost predictable to me. It does add to Methos’s appeal that he’s onscreen with Duncan, though. They juxtapose and yet compliment each other very, very well. I think without Duncan, Methos might not have been so intriguing. Plus, I find Peter Wingfield incredibly attractive, but there’s nothing new there. All my favorite characters are hot one way or another to me.

He’s not really a good guy. Not that he’s a dickhead, though. He’s sharp and such, but not an asshole. Part of that is because he’s not a leader. Like, at all. Like, not by any stretch of the imagination. He’s not even a hero. He has heroic moments, but he’s far from a true hero. When there’s danger, he’s more inclined to run away from it rather than into the fray like Duncan does.

Why would that make him my favorite character of all time?

Many reasons, but the one coming to mind right now is that when I see a guy coming at me with a sword ready to slice my head off, I’m more inclined to run away than stay and fight, too.

That makes Methos human. He has been alive for five thousand years and doesn’t want to die. He wants to keep on living. That means that life really is worth living. No matter how many guys come at him wanting to kill him, he doesn’t give up. He does everything he can to keep his head attached to his body.

He’s been bad (one of the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse, no less) but he’s changed for the better. That gives me hope that people can change at any time…as long as they truly want to. All this stuff is fascinating to me.

But beyond those character traits, the man is five thousand years old. He’s lived through the history I read about in books. I geek on that stuff. I really do. What I wouldn’t give for a glimpse into some of the times Methos has seen. I mean, if I could sit down and just chat with him about things that happened centuries, millennia ago…what a pleasure! And he seems to enjoy talking about that stuff.

He doesn’t keep much hidden at all really. Sure, he didn’t tell Duncan about the Four Horsemen time in his life, but who would? I mean, you’ve got this good-guy friend…would you say, “Oh, by the way, I used to be one of the meanest, deadliest, most feared guys on the planet.” Somehow, I don’t think that’d come up in conversation much. Plus, that was thousands of years ago.

I bet if Methos was to try to tell someone about his life—his entire life—it would take a decade of talking non-stop. Sometimes a year of my life feels like a century. I just can’t imagine what it would be like to live for so many centuries and still want to keep living because I’m not tired of it yet. That’s fascinating stuff to me.

Now, if I could just figure out a good story to combine Malcolm Reynolds, Captain Jack Harkness and Methos into one guy…

They might be interesting interacting with each other individually, but as one…now that’d be crazy fascinating. I’ll have to work on that…

The Original Design of Cancan Leeloo

Found amid the wreckage that is my craft room (affectionately dubbed the “Crap Room” by my husband–and rightfully so. The room is always a pig sty because ‘creative messiness is better than tidy idleness’.) is the original design for my Cancan Leeloo costume as drawn by Shawn Crosby.

As soon as it came out of the printer, we decided that the black ruffle hanging out of the bottom had to go. Other than that, the stylized elements we’d talked about worked great. In the movie, Leeloo’s wearing a shirt and baring her midriff. With my corset, that wasn’t possible, so we figured we’d try the opposite–bare my shoulders as much as possible and hide my midriff (and corset).

In the drawing, the skirt’s a little long, too. Oops. The pattern we had for it was the correct length. If it was too long, I wouldn’t be able to easily lean over and grab it to hold it up…well…as easy as it can be while wearing in a corset!

From here, I considered fabrics and colors. The shirt was going to be white. the suspenders, wrist bands and skirt accents were to be orange vinyl. The skirt itself needed to be more of a champagne than yellow. I was on my own for the bloomers and stockings underneath. I chose more orange satin and some black and white fun stuff for trim.

The stockings…well…I’d never done anything like those before. I knew I needed something super stretchy. Hmmm…How about this $1/yard stuff I’d gotten 10 yards of ’cause I thought it was kinda neat but was now collecting dust and getting in the way? (I do that a lot…hence one of the many reasons the craft room is the crap room.)

So, that was my game plan. I also had some white, ribbed cotton knit (also purchased in a $1/yard binge and collecting dust while getting the way) to use on the shirt.

But what I needed in order to really do it right was a coverlock machine… Best investment ever in my sewing hobby. Yeah, I was a very happy girl once that thing arrived and after I spent the eon figuring out how to thread it for what I needed it to do.

I think I’ll stop here on this journey and break it up a little. There’s still many more posts to be done from wig to boots on this costume!

It’s Friday and I have pics from Second Life!

Doing a little here and a little there isn’t always conducive to getting anything done, but I’m really excited about what I’ve done so far in Second Life… Well, what Twyla Briggs has done!

When you walk up to Publishing Island from Book Island, this is what you see:

Be like a ghost and walk through the castle wall, and you’re in a reasonably close replica of the Chronicle Room under the Ward Manor…where Tayna drinks tea and scours the Chronicles in Otherness: Rift.

Here’s a close-up of the shelves. I made a few things, bought a few things and got a few more for free. I’m still amazed that I built the crystal ball myself. It’s got a particle system in it. Jason helped me do some fine tuning on the object as a whole. All in all, for it being the first thing I created, now that I’ve been in-world working for awhile, I’ve discovered that I could’ve started with something a little less involved! Like the odd-shaped things in the middle of the top shelf. I like to think they’re crystals, but I know they aren’t. That’s one of the things I’m working on creating. I want to do a whole line of realistic-looking crystals and such.

And finally, here’s me–Twyla Briggs–sitting at Tayna’s table with the Rede, scrying in my crystal ball while enjoying tea like I always do in Second Life. I can’t drink it 24/7 in real life, so I might as well get my jollies in Second Life!

Feel free to IM me in-world. I’d love to hear from you!

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