The Setting: Fountain Gate shopping centre.
Dramatis Personae:
Me (myself and I)
The Sonia (almost-sister-in-law)
Trinny and Susannah
Sundry others
This is what happened: Trinny and Susannah from the original What Not To Wear were coming to Australia and I asked my almost-sister-in-law, Sonia, if she’d like to go and see them. She’s a mad fan of them (I'm pretty sure she even has all of their books) so of course she said yes.
There’s a question that automatically goes through your head when you know you’re going to be in the very near vicinity of such style gurus: Should I dress up to impress, or dress down to get their attention and a make-over? I opted just to stay casual. It was the weekend, after all... it seemed like an acceptable option to me.
We got there in plenty of time and quickly decided that Fountain Gate needs lessons in signage. Sonia spotted the sign for Trinny and Susannah in Centre Court (“I see legs!” – it was a completely surreal statement until I saw the banner draped from the ceiling, legs-first) but there was a complete lack of signage directing us to said Centre Court. Nevertheless, we made our way there and found a spot that wasn’t too bad, vantage-wise and the show began at long last. They began with a bit of banter, then headed into the crowd in search of victims. Trinny headed our way, so our attention was naturally focussed on her as she talked to people and sent one or two in the direction of the stage.
We happened to be standing in a spot where people seemed to ask a lot of questions, such as:
Would you like this brochure? (Yes, thank-you.)
Where do you get those ice-creams? (Look for the ladies with giant bags on the edge of the crowd.)
The ice-creams weren’t any good, by the way, even though they were free.
Sometimes, we even asked ourselves questions, such as:
Why are those girls wearing robes? (We never did find out.)
So when someone tapped me on the shoulder, I was expecting to turn around and face another mindless question. Instead, I found myself face to face with Susannah, an encounter that left me kind of speechless. Which is lucky, because the only thing I could think of to say was “Oh, it’s you” which seems slightly on the inane side. She appraised me for a bit while I stared in bewilderment and then said, “I think I’d like you to go on stage”.
And go on stage I did, all the while wondering what was so bad about my outfit. I mean, sure, it was a bit casual, but I’d been shopping that morning and I wanted something that was easy to change in and out of. Why, why had I been chosen? These thoughts were still going through my head as they started talking about the first lady, taking every opportunity to grab her boobs (as is their wont). What’s wrong with my outfit? What are they going to pick on? I was torn between excitement and anguish.
Finally, it was my turn and Susannah led me to the front of the stage where she actually said I was dressed pretty well for my shape. “But we want you to go a step further,” she said. “Show off those curves.” And I was sent backstage, into regimented chaos.
“I think she’d look fantastic in this blue dress,” was Susannah’s verdict, as she dragged a rather gorgeous, slinky thing off the rack. There was a brief moment of concern when it was thought that someone else was already going to wear it, but it turned out to be a myth and the dress was bestowed upon me as I was bestowed upon Bridget, the make-up artist.
Poor Bridget – she wasn’t to know that my eyes practically weep at the mere thought of eyeliner. She was constantly being harried as she tried to deal with my overly sensitive blink reflex and she managed to make me look amazing regardless. Make-up done, into the changing room; then off to step into some gorgeous shoes and to be draped in chunky jewellery. Then passed back to Bridget for hair. At one point Susannah had suggested a quick trim to give me a fringe, which likewise gave me a moment of despair – But I’ve just grown my fringe out! I don’t want it back.
No time for a fringe – Bridget just sprayed my fine, disobedient hair into submission and was even there as I was waiting to go on stage, applying some last touches.
And then I was taken back out and there was applause and Susannah insisted I turn around so everyone could see what the dress was doing for my back view... It was madness and so much fun and completely surreal. If only we’d been allowed to keep the clothes! Everyone kept telling me I had to buy the dress – the colour was so amazing and it suited me perfectly – and I was thinking, Yeah, but with what money?
Turns out I might be able to after all. We were all given a little goody bag afterwards with the standard set of things in it: dodgy pen, discount offers, a recipe book and a rather nice notebook... plus a voucher. I thought it would be for some tiny amount – ten, twenty dollars maybe – and I didn’t investigate further until I got back to the Boy’s place and discovered it was actually for $150! So wow.
As for Trinny and Susannah themselves, they were completely lovely and approachable; they didn’t give themselves airs about being famous or completely glamorous. It was non-stop fun.
Well... all except for the slightly terrified lady who didn’t quite want to be there. I don’t think she had quite as much fun as the rest of us did.
But I did. It was surreal and amazing and it still feels slightly unreal. Thank goodness I actually do know what not to wear.
This, alas, is the only picture I have, taken by the Sonia on her phone from behind the Stupid Woman Who Kept Getting In Her Way. You'll just have to take my word for it that the blue blur is me and the black one is Susannah:
Dramatis Personae:
Me (myself and I)
The Sonia (almost-sister-in-law)
Trinny and Susannah
Sundry others
This is what happened: Trinny and Susannah from the original What Not To Wear were coming to Australia and I asked my almost-sister-in-law, Sonia, if she’d like to go and see them. She’s a mad fan of them (I'm pretty sure she even has all of their books) so of course she said yes.
There’s a question that automatically goes through your head when you know you’re going to be in the very near vicinity of such style gurus: Should I dress up to impress, or dress down to get their attention and a make-over? I opted just to stay casual. It was the weekend, after all... it seemed like an acceptable option to me.
We got there in plenty of time and quickly decided that Fountain Gate needs lessons in signage. Sonia spotted the sign for Trinny and Susannah in Centre Court (“I see legs!” – it was a completely surreal statement until I saw the banner draped from the ceiling, legs-first) but there was a complete lack of signage directing us to said Centre Court. Nevertheless, we made our way there and found a spot that wasn’t too bad, vantage-wise and the show began at long last. They began with a bit of banter, then headed into the crowd in search of victims. Trinny headed our way, so our attention was naturally focussed on her as she talked to people and sent one or two in the direction of the stage.
We happened to be standing in a spot where people seemed to ask a lot of questions, such as:
Would you like this brochure? (Yes, thank-you.)
Where do you get those ice-creams? (Look for the ladies with giant bags on the edge of the crowd.)
The ice-creams weren’t any good, by the way, even though they were free.
Sometimes, we even asked ourselves questions, such as:
Why are those girls wearing robes? (We never did find out.)
So when someone tapped me on the shoulder, I was expecting to turn around and face another mindless question. Instead, I found myself face to face with Susannah, an encounter that left me kind of speechless. Which is lucky, because the only thing I could think of to say was “Oh, it’s you” which seems slightly on the inane side. She appraised me for a bit while I stared in bewilderment and then said, “I think I’d like you to go on stage”.
And go on stage I did, all the while wondering what was so bad about my outfit. I mean, sure, it was a bit casual, but I’d been shopping that morning and I wanted something that was easy to change in and out of. Why, why had I been chosen? These thoughts were still going through my head as they started talking about the first lady, taking every opportunity to grab her boobs (as is their wont). What’s wrong with my outfit? What are they going to pick on? I was torn between excitement and anguish.
Finally, it was my turn and Susannah led me to the front of the stage where she actually said I was dressed pretty well for my shape. “But we want you to go a step further,” she said. “Show off those curves.” And I was sent backstage, into regimented chaos.
“I think she’d look fantastic in this blue dress,” was Susannah’s verdict, as she dragged a rather gorgeous, slinky thing off the rack. There was a brief moment of concern when it was thought that someone else was already going to wear it, but it turned out to be a myth and the dress was bestowed upon me as I was bestowed upon Bridget, the make-up artist.
Poor Bridget – she wasn’t to know that my eyes practically weep at the mere thought of eyeliner. She was constantly being harried as she tried to deal with my overly sensitive blink reflex and she managed to make me look amazing regardless. Make-up done, into the changing room; then off to step into some gorgeous shoes and to be draped in chunky jewellery. Then passed back to Bridget for hair. At one point Susannah had suggested a quick trim to give me a fringe, which likewise gave me a moment of despair – But I’ve just grown my fringe out! I don’t want it back.
No time for a fringe – Bridget just sprayed my fine, disobedient hair into submission and was even there as I was waiting to go on stage, applying some last touches.
And then I was taken back out and there was applause and Susannah insisted I turn around so everyone could see what the dress was doing for my back view... It was madness and so much fun and completely surreal. If only we’d been allowed to keep the clothes! Everyone kept telling me I had to buy the dress – the colour was so amazing and it suited me perfectly – and I was thinking, Yeah, but with what money?
Turns out I might be able to after all. We were all given a little goody bag afterwards with the standard set of things in it: dodgy pen, discount offers, a recipe book and a rather nice notebook... plus a voucher. I thought it would be for some tiny amount – ten, twenty dollars maybe – and I didn’t investigate further until I got back to the Boy’s place and discovered it was actually for $150! So wow.
As for Trinny and Susannah themselves, they were completely lovely and approachable; they didn’t give themselves airs about being famous or completely glamorous. It was non-stop fun.
Well... all except for the slightly terrified lady who didn’t quite want to be there. I don’t think she had quite as much fun as the rest of us did.
But I did. It was surreal and amazing and it still feels slightly unreal. Thank goodness I actually do know what not to wear.
This, alas, is the only picture I have, taken by the Sonia on her phone from behind the Stupid Woman Who Kept Getting In Her Way. You'll just have to take my word for it that the blue blur is me and the black one is Susannah:
Current Mood: excited
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