One of the random challenges of working in television is the fact that video equipment, and therefore, the places where video equipment is used, must be kept cold. Which is lovely on a fall or winter day, not so lovely on a spring 90 degrees and humid day. So, when I dressed in the rush of getting out the door and the sweat of a 75 degree, 75% humidity 6am, I ended up with, well, an outfit 75% designed for a day at the beach. Which was marginally okay walking to the actor van to Stamford (though the 25% concession to a cold studio meant I was sweating before I hit the van). When I reached the studio, however, the reasons for my wardrobe now miles and hours behind me, I just wanted to go home and start over.
Alas, we don't (especially when we work many miles from home) usually get the chance to start over, whether in wardrobe or in life. And most of the time, I'm good with that. I really am. There are enough things in my life I wouldn't want to repeat, and enough things I've learned from experience, that I'd sacrifice a lot by going back again. And, in the case of today, in the scheme of things, did a wardrobe misstep really ruin my day? (Okay, debatable, even if I am behind the camera.) But, really, except for having everyone's fantasy of being able to go back to bed and start over later, I barreled through, as we all do, whether past crises of wardrobe or past things that are a whole lot more serious. All we can do is cry a little, learn a lot, and, oh, pick out our clothes the night before.
No tears today. But I'll be hitting my closet as soon as I get home.
No comments:
Post a Comment