Set again

Back into the groove.

Early morning car. Down I go with my buttfungus. I’ve showered and clean shaven. I’ve squirted myself all over with musk. This is just a costume fitting, but it’s not theatre where I can eat a pork pie during the fitting. It’s telly. I need to be sleek, unruffled, magically professional and not volunteer that I have cooties on my bumbum.

Unit base is in Bishopsgate, just down the road from my old drama school. Location today is Hyde Park, just up the road from my flat. Typically though, I have to go to unit base for my costume fitting and location for hair and make-up.

My costume is horrifyingly white and clean. There’s only one of them. I have to look immaculate. The whole purpose of my character is to disapprove of how the important character is turned out. It’s a living, darling, and I’m very happy with it. But Christ. I don’t want to touch my clothes. I can’t drink coffee in costume. I’ll have to be super careful. Plus it’s basically made out of plastic.

Even though it was just a test, I had a trailer with my character name lined up for me in the park. It smelt brand new. Sitting in it I could look out at the trees of Hyde Park, and the runners. “What are you filming?” I would hear them ask to other people in earshot of me. I would hear people vaguely avoid response. Even if we haven’t signed an explicit NDA we still know that we have to be very very careful. These huge moving sets… So many of them all over the world. I have to say, I thought they’d be more prevalent in my life over the last twenty years. My first job was all about it. I never expected the drought that only really broke about three years ago.

“Hair and make-up are ready for you now.”

The make-up wagon is always a fun community with a specific voice. This one aligns with my preferences very closely. Ocean makes me look fabulous and they tell me about how everybody in the wagon loves cats and coffee. Both easy things to love, sure. But… I am given one of the best cups of coffee I’ve ever had on a set, and I find strangers who are as concerned about my sick cat friend as I am. This is a lovely group. Shame my character is only in one scene. I feel at home.

More soon with these guys and then off to Cornwall. Man, I fucking love my life when I get to do this kind of thing. Thank you universe. This is what I have been working towards.

Author: albarclay

This blog is a work of creative writing. Do not mistake it for truth. All opinions are mine and not that of my numerous employers.

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