I went to a competition.
My dresses, however, did not come with me.
Yes. I packed up all my bags, the little ladies' bags, Gordon's dance gear, my dance gear, and piled it all together in my bedroom with my dresses hanging above the pile on the door.
We got up in the morning. We drove to Chicago. We figured out what time we wanted to be at the competition and I started getting ready an hour and a half before that.
I was finishing up my hair (makeup was complete) when The G came in and said, "You should put your dresses in the car."
"They are in the car," I replied.
Then we looked at each other.
No, they were still hanging on the bedroom door.
Neat. NOT.
I kept thinking, "What am I? An amateur?"
But no, that is just insulting to amateurs.
Amateurs, and most pros, triple-check their packing lists. I mean, that's the nightmare, right? NOT having your costumes.
"Oh, just ask the vendors," advised everyone.
The vendors are lovely, really. But unless you are a US finalist, have bought a dress recently from that vendor, are sponsored by them, or know the right people, they don't want to lend you a dress. Tanner, sweat, and possible tears (tears like "ripped fabric", not "the product of crying") aren't worth the time of lending you a dress. Some vendors will rent, for an arm and a leg. But then you're out that arm and leg, and they come in handy for dancing.
With a little over an hour before we're supposed to dance, I'm scouring the ballroom asking man pros if they have any students or partners with extra dresses available for rent. Running into a favorite coach, he and I expressed the same odd situation where, although we were at a local competition (it's all local in the Midwest), we didn't know most of the people there.
So I got my big girl pants on and accosted strangers asking for costumes. Everyone was so friendly and nice and helpful, but to no end. The G and I considered scratching.
Then someone pointed out this fab girl to me, remembering she had changed "17 times" that day. I nearly tackled her as she came off the floor after awards and without blinking an eye, she gave me her hotel room key and told me where her dresses and jewelry were.
I was off to the ball!
Fifteen minutes before our heat, I had a super fabulous dress for Rhythm and a new fairy godmother.
Lesson learned: bring your f-ing costumes.
The end.
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Looking for a good deed to complete your week? Check out this Kickstarter campaign for a documentary called Swing! You donate $1 or more and get the knowledge you're helping a sweet dance film get made, PLUS goodies (anything from your name on a website to passes to a dance festival to a producer credit).
One year ago: Request for Thread, a plug for Beyond Ballroom Dance Company
