Murder on The Dance Floor
Created | Updated Sep 30, 2004
Lemon or strawberry?
Acting the Tart. I Mean, Part
I've been having fun trying to put together my 'tart' outfit1. I have found the most wonderful boots - knee high, sparkly red snakeskin with wooden platform soles. Since the other 2 girls in this number are a good 4 or 5 inches taller than me, I need all the help I can get! The black suede miniskirt I found half price in the supermarket. And the blue sequinned boob tube has been in my wardrobe since the 80s, just waiting for its moment of glory! I was a bit stuck for something round my neck, though
'What can I wear round my neck that says tart?' I asked my best friend.
How about a silver necklace with the letters T - A - R - T on it.' she suggested.
But I feel the subtlety of that joke might be lost on my audience. Found a red glittery choker in Camden market which I'm hoping will complete the look.
Now once I've sung my piece in tart-mode, I'm supposed to sit on the edge of the risers at the back of the stage. I plonked myself down, crossed my legs, and then the director hissed at me:
'You stop being a tart once you've finished singing!'
'But it's hard not to be!' I protested.
Who wants to wallow in champagne?
My lovely cousin, who is such a wonderful person, 2 has finally managed to make it onto TVs Who Wants To Be A Millionaire. And I'm one of his 'phone a friend's. Only the show3 is being recorded this Thusday night, when I'll be at rehearsal. I wonder if I stuck my mobile down my bra would I be able to hear it ring over the Gershwin? Or should I put it in one of those pouchy things that hang around the neck. I do hope the director will understand when I suddenly disappear out the door half way through a routine!
You are really spoiling us!
Well it's shaping up to be a great birthday fortnight - the photographer from the local English magazine took some photos for the edition due out a few days before my birthday, so I may get my picture (well, my legs) onto the cover! Then the following week, the British ambassador, who is the patron of our little group, has invited us to a reception at the Embassy! I wonder should I wear my tarty boots....
Murder on the Dance Floor
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