My Big Audition

Something happened this week. It was BIG. Mortifying. I felt like fainting several times, and a stranger, a man around 30, kissed my hand - more than twice. A crowd was watching and nobody intervened! Because I let him kiss me. Gaaa!!

In an email I told Suzanne Carillo what happened and she wrote back:  "Seriously. I would have crapped my pants, thrown up, run out screaming, had a panic attack midway to the door and passed out in my own vomit. They would have had to carry me out on a stretcher." She always sees the bright side of things.

The Brady Bunch gone very, very wrong

MARSHA, MARSHA, MARSHA

Here I am stretching out my face when I got home like a true athlete.

Yes, I went to an audition. I turned on my computer one morning last week and, boink, there it was, an email from a casting agency. Gaaa! They wanted to know if I would like to audition for a big TV campaign for a luxury product, megabucks, no acting experience needed – they just wanted "a look." They found out about me from the fashion shoot photographer, Katrin (details here). It would be a speaking part but I'd only need to remember one line for the audition.

When I came to, I wrote back, oh, okay, pfft, I suppose I can fit you in between lunch in Milan and dinner in Düsseldorf. Are you kidding? Yes!, I said. After I clicked SEND, I got started right away FREAKING OUT!! I had an exemplary base to build on from the photo shoot last month.

I needed to dress like I'm going to a swanky East Hamptons do, and not even as the wait staff! How ironic that of all my clothes I had nothing East Hamptonish, except linen trousers, so I got into character and went shopping in search of a million-dollar look for a tenner.

This is the dress I found, a Calvin Klein from the consignment store, sadly more than $10. I also bought a whack-load of new spanxy underthings to keep me erect and semi-spiky heels, which reminded me of Cher's shoes in Moonstruck - lucky for sure. When the audition was over, I quickly changed into pants but put this back on when I got home to show you, minus the support gear and pantyhose. I also wore small vintage gold earrings and my gold lava pendant (here), also removed.

You can see the little shiny black nibs on the shoes in this photo. 

When I arrived at the studio for the audition, there were about 50 impossibly handsome 30-something men in black tie sitting along the walls of the holding pen in eerie tomb-like silence, like a scene in a David Lynch movie. The clack of my spiky heels was the perfect soundtrack as I walked to the receiving desk with 100 eyeballs at my back, the only woman and the only oldster there, dressed like a frigging Normal no less.

I waited and waited. Finally it was my turn. 

Let me just say my nerves were pretty much under control until I stepped into the Room. From then on, it was CHAOS. Who were all these people?!

There were black leather couches arranged on risers at the back, where ten or so men awaited their turn on stage at the front, two huuuuge monitors, plus a cameraman, director, and presumably a Somebody. I felt the rigor grip my face. Relax relax relax - such useless stupid words. I could have twisted a steel pipe with my spanxified sphincter, in a dignified Hamptons way of course.

I also wore this vintage coat and doggy scarf for good luck. And a lucky ring O made me. I left my hair flat for sophistication but could have used the power boost of lighthouse hair.

Without going into detail, in my scene I had to pretend I was in a car looking around outside. I channeled my inner bobble-head. The director said encouragingly, Okay, try it again. Just try and relax and breathe.

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Are you kidding!!? 

Do you think I'm a pro & can just breathe on demand?! 

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How could I relax when the butterflies in my stomach were devouring my flesh from the inside out!! I was a little shaky Chihuahua. In each take, my Fake Husband next to me gently took hold of my hand and kissed it. Oooh, sweet escape. I'm surprised I didn't jump into his lap and start licking his face. Although I think I squeaked, for real.

This is how I looked on the inside, in a good way. Except you can't see the carnivorous butterflies. 

The Director said I looked great on camera. All I could think was, that's what you say to all the grotesque failures!! After just over five minutes it was over. 

I was awful, horrible, hideous, although my catatonic gaze must surely have induced a case of mass hypnosis because when I was finished everyone applauded. (Not a dramatic slow clap, just regular clapping.) Granted, it was after I heaved a huuuge sigh of relief and said, This is my first time doing this, I SURVIVED! Everyone was so happy for me (and there's a special joy that comes from the thought, Oh, man, at least I won't screw up that bad and I'm young!).

Walking home, I mentally made arrangements to sell my new imaginary Beverly Hills home, and I treated myself to a hot French roll with butter at Terra Breads, so much more relaxing than worrying about hiring a gardener and a pool boy after all. 

There's nothing like a little mortification to feel truly alive.

 

I few days later, not having received a call-back of course, I wrote to the casting agency apologizing that I choked and blew it, and expressed my relief that I didn't bark or pee on the director's leg. Most importantly, I thanked them for giving me a shot in the first place. End of story.

Not! The agent wrote back and said I was "awesome," "beautiful," and "didn't look nervous at all," that they'll "definitely be in touch again." When I came to, I wrote back and said, I fell off my chair and I'm laughing now. Thank you! No, I didn't get this; I got lots to write about though. And I didn't humiliate myself as much as I had feared. Heh.

I'll be linking this fancy Normal look up with Patti at Not Dead Yet Style for Visible Monday, and Catherine at Not Dressed as Lamb for #iwillwearwhatilike even though I had to dress according to a guideline. Her theme is ruffles. My nerves were ruffled; that counts. The last photo is of a bag I bought, $5. I can't help but smile when I see it. Arf.

Edit: I have also just linked to Cherie's Shoe and Tell at her blog Style Nudge for the first time. After all, I'm wearing my new-to-me Moonstruck shoes. Couldn't miss this one.

So, you never know, right? I would not have had this audition opportunity if I hadn't been blogging and trying new scary things. Thank you for your support always! Mwah, mwah!

Didn't they outlaw exclamation marks in the UK? This post would get me arrested for sure!!
Have a great week!