Hobnobbing Here, Amongst the Elite

Just in case anyone hasn't seen this...

Oh, where to begin...

So, several weeks back, I talked to Nigel and Rebecca about getting to do more practical side projects while here in England - they set me up a "work study" opportunity in London - basically, go to London and work in the West End for a week. Well... I *suppose* I could do that.... :) I found myself a dirt cheap hotel in Kensington through an expedia.co.uk deal (don't worry, mums, it's not a "dodgy" area, and - in fact - everyone gives me an "ooh... poshie" look when I tell them where I am - little do they know I am literally in a shoebox room (although I don't have a measuring tape with me, the room (minus the bathroom) is probably about 6 1/2 feet by 4 1/2 feet... yeah, that looks about right) - that said, it's a room, it's a comfy bed, my own

shower, breakfast, and really friendly staff (you have to pass by the front desk [which is always manned, even when I get home after 11PM], and the guy behind the desk always greets me by name, and all for only £15 a night); bought a one week tube/bus pass (one of the downsides of the hotel - to get in to the theatre, it's a fifteen minute walk to the tube station [or I catch the bus - quicker, when the bus is on time], then I take the central line several stops to Tottenham, then transfer to the Northern line, where I head south one stop to Leicester, then walk five minutes to the theatre - doesn't sound like much, but when you factor in all the stops, the treking across the stations, the escalators and stairs, it takes me about 40-45 minutes to get in to work)... I'm not sure where I was with this thought or with my parenthesis, so I'll just start afresh.

Monday afternoon (I was called at 2PM), I wandered over to the Queen's Theatre, right in the center of Soho, and next door to the Gielgud, where Bill Bailey has his one-man show, and where James McAvoy is apparently beginning to rehearse for the new show he's in - I haven't seen him yet, but not for want of looking :) I got a massive thrill out of walking back to the stage door, checking in with the porter, and wandering up all *5* storeys of steps to the wardrobe shop. I met the gang - Kieron (basically, the British Lewis Bellamy - adorably hilarious gay guy), Jennifer (the British Rebecca Gough - sweetest thing), and Claire (not sure who to compare her too, but just fun and giggly [and fun-crazy as the night wears on]), all headed up by Philip, a ridiculously fun and hilarious guy who's been wardrobe master for Les Miserables for - wait for it - over *20 years*!!! 

I realized almost instantly how much I missed being in a shop - even if, in the case of this shop, there wasn't much hustle and bustle to get work done. I'm coming from a perspective where you're hired on to get the show done in six weeks - rush rush rush, then you're out the door. If a show runs longer than 8 weeks, it's bizarre. To have a show that's absolutely clockwork like this, basically everyone shows up, we get the MASSIVE amounts of laundry done and sorted and back in their pouches, take tea, do some notes, eat some biscuits, make a pair of bloomers whilst watching telly. Philip explained that, generally, the schedule for work study kids is that, basically, they show up and spend the "days" (called at 2Pm...) during the week cutting, building, decorating, and distressing a pair of bloomers, then in the evenings shadowing a dresser. When, by the end of the first day, I'd done everything for the bloomers and moved on to a camisole, he asked if I'd be willing to stay upstairs and work with them - shadowing a dresser is, frankly, rather pointless (especially when you've already done it professionally back home), and "we could use you much more up here". (eee!)

Tuesday, I showed up at 2PM again, finished the camisole, worked on notes and laundry, but at 3:30, we stopped work, made tea and biscuits, and put on the BBC's coverage of the inauguration. (I had felt bad, having to work during it, but promised myself I'd come home and watch it on youtube - instead, I showed up and Philip asked nervously, "You *did* vote for Obama, right? Because I'm rather a huge fan...") Bless his sweet little heart, he cried when Obama was sworn in, and we all let out massive cheers for his speech. We then took dinner break (after not *really* doing any work all day!), waited around a bit for the show to start, then headed off home.

Today, I went in at 11AM (two show day) and - true to my training - hung up my coat, checked the notes list, and went right to work on Combeferre's vest. Kieron giggled and said, "Oh, *you* can come back anytime" - they get kids who just sit around and wait to be told what to do. (Huzzah for brownie points) By the time Philip came in, the notes were done, and we had moved on to building cravats, we shared embarrassing theatre stories, the girls and I took a jaunt during lunch tea down to a local patisserie, we watched "The Birds" on BBC4. In the afternoon, Philip had a bunch of stuff that needed to go back to "storage", and told Kieron to take me along. We grabbed a cab, and headed off to storage, which turned out to be a honest-to-goodness MASSIVE warehouse, wherein all the "extra" costumes for the West End's Les Mis, Phantom of the Opera, Miss Saigon, Mary Poppins, and Oliver are kept. Rows upon rows upon rows upon ROWS of these immediately recognizable costumes in tens, fifteens in a row - gorgeous fabrics, trims, all well loved and lived in - it was AMAZING. I seriously just wandered the rows whilst Kieron put things back, almost crying a little at the sheer amazingness that was it. :)

We got back to the theatre (after Kieron spent the cab ride gossiping about the local theatres and shows and actors), and I went back to cravats. Philip got a phone call, then informed the others in the room that Ebony would be out for the week - so they were down a dresser (the swing dressers were already all booked in for the weekend) They would have to rearrange the schedule and someone would have to fill in. 

I've always rather thought that life is 50% being in the right place at the right time and 50% knowing / having the guts to stick your neck out when that time/place comes around. I, in the corner ironing, meekly put forth into the room, "Umm... I'm a dresser". Almost like a slapstick comedy, all the heads wheeled round to face me and smiled. 

Moments later, they were pulling out dressing lists, explaining that this was the easy pathway, I'd be pretty much entirely in one of the girl's dressing rooms, that they still had tonight and tomorrow night for me to shadow before Friday and the two shows on Saturday. I was grinning ear-to-ear, even before someone said, "Well, we'll have to pay her" and Philip replied, "Well, of *course* we'll pay her!" I started filling out employment forms (curses that I left my passport at home in Bournemouth!) and looking over the dressing list, realizing that - seriously - it was actually less difficult than dressing ACT's Christmas Carol. (At least, the pathway I'd be taking, obviously) 

I was partnered with ... I feel really bad now, because I don't remember her name, but she was an absolutely adorable very short, VERY Scottish blonde girl who led me around and walked me through the pathway - the major changes are really only up to Paris, then we head upstairs and watch Big Brother with the wardrobe crew (hee) until prep for the Wedding. While I'm a little disappointed to not be hanging out with the guys (seriously, some really attractive guys in this cast - including the guy who played Princeton when Kristi and I went to see Avenue Q back on the Study Abroad!), while doing a quick change for Mark, John Joe came barrelling down the hallway, noticed me, "Hullo dahling, I'm John Joe, lovely to meet you" gave me a kiss on the cheek, and raced on down the other direction. :) Ah, I miss actors...

Jon Robyns - looking, for some reason, a lot like Jim Halpert.

A few minutes later, I found myself backstage, ready to watch as the priest's sister would come offstage to change into a nightgown and shawl. It was really only here, standing backstage right in the wings, watching Valjean trek across the turntable to the priest's home, that was standing BACKSTAGE in the WEST END dressing a show. This wasn't backstage at the Hi-Liners of Burien, this wasn't backstage at Taproot, this wasn't even backstage at the Intiman or the Rep or the Paramount - this was the Queen's Theatre in London, heart of Soho, working on a show that's - officially - surpassed Cats as the longest running musical, ever. Seriously, chills. 

But yes, after we safely got Helen, Tabby, Brenda, and ... the fourth one... to Paris, we headed back up all five flights of stairs to watch Big Brother (hee) and do crossword puzzles. 

We got the girls into their wedding gowns, though we were a little late and the boys came crowding into the room - it should be mentioned here, that - although the building is five storeys, there is very little room. (Substage, "large" dressing room, stage level, dressing rooms floors 1-3, wig maintenance and children dressing room 4, wardrobe 5), the rooms are all absolutely tiny and oddly shaped. Stairs aren't any kind of regulation height (the one onto the stage is probably about 10" high, and I very nearly kill myself on it, one of the staircases down to the substage is this tiny, rickety old metal circular staircase, etc) The building definitely has "character", but I'd get a kick out of seeing what Seattle building inspectors would think of it.

Anyway, the show ended - (spoiler alert) Javert kicked the bucket, Valjean found salvation, everyone cried - we lugged the laundry upstairs, then we headed home (back down the staircase). I had another moment of "Oh yeah" when I walked out the stage door - and into a small crowd of fans hanging out waiting for autographs. I smiled smugly, adjusted my bag on my shoulder, and walked through the plebs - I was done with *work* and was heading home. :)

hee.