Another audition - it's almost like being famous! Almost, not quite.

Some bigwigs called and asked me to "be myself." I failed. Heh.

Yip, the casting agency called again. Gaaa! If this keeps up, I'll have to get a real DAYTIMER, not an electronic thingy because they are not real enough. I need pages that can be dripped on and ripped. And a Bic pen (do they still make them?) because, after all, I would be an artiste, not some executive in a skyscraper boardroom like MizBagg.

As a reminder to you, this is my third TV commercial audition since May 2016. Things are going super fast! - 11 months between the first (here) and second (here), and only 8 months until this latest one. Stop the Earth - everything is a blur!

Strolling through Ackery's Alley. Read more about it here.

When I got there, the waiting room was packed with people "being themselves" to the max. My hair was high, my hopes were high, and my anxiety was at an all-time low as these things go. I knew it would end badly. Heh. What I wore is here.

This time it was just me and the casting director in the audition room, with a bank of computers and cameras, and I don't know what else. First I had to stand in front of the camera and state my name and height. Thank goodness I knew those lines. Then I had to sit in a comfy leather chair in the stage area and talk about myself. And I did... And I did... CUT!!!

But then I had to dance. Oh, dear reader, I don't dance; I do Martha Graham interpretive movements, lunges and feints and crawls. I preemptively knew I was done for. For my song - we got to pick our own - I chose Rock Lobster by the B52s. It was that or Wagner's Ride of the Valkyries. Hey, they said to "be yourself."

I pogo-ed, I hopped and spun, I churned, stumbled, ran into furniture, got really dizzy, light-headed even with all that quick up-and-down bending, and I wagged my tongue during the weird bits of the song. Fer real. No spit flew, though, which I was thankful for - there are no wiper blades on the camera and the director was not wearing a bib. It would have been rude.

I was channeling comedian Maria Bamford, who is currently starring in the Netflix series, Lady Dynamite. She is very unconventional in public, scripted and unscripted too (she makes no secret of her struggles with mental illness), and nobody blinks an eye. If you are delicate, don't watch it. Suzanne introduce me to her.

Towards the end of my exertions, when I finally remembered I was being filmed, I caught sight of the director, who was waving his arms back and forth over his head, like at some of those religious meetings you see, which made me think, hmm, do I do a 360 and go all tabernacle or keep my Martha G funk on? You guessed it. Go Martha G! Go Maria B!

At the end, just as I was leaving, the casting agent said, Wow, I, uh, felt your energy. I panted back, exhausted, "That was fun, thanks." Done. Really done. I have to say, the casting agent is a super-cool guy. I'm getting to know him now, and vice versa, which means maybe I can hold off on my big daytimer purchase and Bic pen.

Of course, no call back. My "me" was too me, or not the "me" the client was looking for. The shoot will be in a tropical country abroad for $$$. For a drink company. Of course I had to try though. And test out my new Maria Bamford-as-confidence-booster technique. It worked. High five! And if I'm called again, yeah, I'll go. Why not?

I found the commercial from the last audition I went to HERE. I had to say the line, "And the scary things eat you," awesome line. I thought I did it well, well, not tooooo badly, but in the final version it is delivered by a super-cute little girl. Well, I ask you, how can I compete with that? Hahaha. I love the ad, though.

I'll link up to Patti at Visible Monday, Not Dead Yet Style, and;
Catherine at #iwillwearwhatilike, Not Dressed as Lamb.

On a final note, they asked when I signed in for this audition whether I could open a bottle using any body parts. I wonder how they would have responded if I said I can do it with my sphincter on a bad day. Heh. I haven't tried - won't. Have you!? Let me know in the comments (she writes, trying to keep a straight face).

Monochrome with quirk, and ACTION!

The sun was blazing at 14C (57.2F) when I prepared to go for my inspiration walk. So what did I wear to celebrate? An austere black and white outfit. Hahaha!! Plus thick black tights and brown lace-up booties. I must be damaged - although I quite liked this.

Me: "Good morning, Madam. I'm applying for either of your posted positions: unsmiling high-fashion snob or strict matron of all sorts. I excel at the stupefaction pose and thrashings with gluten-free wet noodles." 

Vintage designer Pancaldi & B silk skirt, made in Italy.
I had to restitch the hem before I went out. It took forever!

Are you alarmed by this dour presentation? At least I've unwittingly maintained a semblance of quirk by mitten-clipping my collar into an erect position and carrying my favourite toolbox handbag, a gift from my partner O. We have the ideal relationship - he takes the tool; I take the case.

[Edit: A mitten clip is a band of elastic the size of a bandaid with a suspender (braces) clip at each end, one to clip to the mitten, one to the coat sleeve, although I use them for many applications. See here. Mine are a bit different.]

I've had strangers ask me if I carry poker chips in there. Or a gun. Well, the only chips you'd find would be BBQ or Sriracha, although I'd have to crush the bag to fit it in the case. I sometimes crushed chips as a child reasoning that it would prolong the chip-eating experience. It did - although it made for particularly crunchy sleeping bags during camp-outs with girlfriends in the backyard. Chips were special - seldom allowed in my home - and each crumb had to count.

I've done no gun-packing with this case (illegal in Canada), but I have elastics in there, which in the hands of O are pretty lethal for flies and mosquitoes when he employs his rapid-fire shooting technique. I have witnessed the carnage first-hand.

There's no question that I'd rather project the image of a gambler or hit woman than a fashion elite or humourless matron. I don't think I've ever met a hit man, although if I had I think the key would be not to know it. I saw a bloody gangster type once in Emergency, surrounded by police, waiting to have the tazer barb removed from his chest. He kept flirting with me, yelling, "Hey, blondie." I still wouldn't have answered if he yelled, "Hey, greylie." It was a surreal experience.

And the vintage graphic, double-breasted coat above really elevated the look too. It was a gift from my Fairy Thrift Sister Su. She's amazing. The coat is amazing!! Always my thanks fly out to her when I wear this. The lining is silky bright red.

A closeup of the toolbox handbag. What's inside? Let's have a look: my red journal/sketch book, reading glasses, special ceramic-tip roller-ball pen, change purse, face mask, three tissue packs, bandaids and crumpled wrappers, a whack-ton of safety pins (I've been looking for those!), a wood coffee stir stick that O sketched on, and old receipts. There are elastics in there too.

In other news...

I've made another video, an introduction to my YouTube channel, BagandaBeret. With 40(!) videos now I figured it was time for some tiny effort, so I created a header image and About section (there's a new fact in there about me). Now, in theory, new visitors and non-subscribers will see this video as the channel welcome.

People say video is the future. I'm not convinced with regards to bloggers, but I feel ready if it is.

WELCOME TO MY CHANNEL!

This assemblage of clips conveys the Bag and a Beret flavour, not BBQ - maybe Fully Dressed with a touch of Dill Pickle? I welcome all new subscribers of course! (Fully Dressed and Dill Pickle are chip flavours) [Edit: I just changed the video to make it shorter.]

I love making videos and asking friends to join in. In the one I did with Shelley, she came up with the choreography, heh; another was based on a blog post by Suzanne, and another on a story idea she had. Everyone involved chips in with good ideas, acting, and/or filming: Sue, Sheila, L, Vancouver Barbara...so many of you, and I tease out something coherent in the end, or try to. Of course it all started with Sandra of Standard Deviations and our style parkouring around the city some years ago.

Probably what I like most is producing, directing, and editing, if it can be called that at this stage. I'm comfortable "acting" when it's a friend or Dick (my tripod) behind the lens, but the greatest challenge is setting up and filming scenes on the fly, in public, ultra-quick, almost like guerrilla film-making, and then marrying them with my vision of how the finished piece should look/feel. It's raw and real, like VOGOFF magazine, a reaction to the highly-slick, highly-funded, highly-controlled, highly-manipulative advertising shoved in our faces every day. I'm grateful to have friends who help me play in this medium. Thank you!

Now I'm exhausted. Did you notice my hair? Slightly pouffed up on top with sculpted bangs and wisps on the side. I like it. And my almost-black Poe lipstick.

That's all for this week.

Naturally I'll link up to party-gal Patti at Visible Monday on her blog Not Dead Yet Style and Catherine at #iwillwearwhatilike on her blog Not Dressed as Lamb. And congrats to Catherine for her big UK Blogger of the Year Award. Three cheers for over-40 bloggers!

Have you ever made videos? Moving images with sound have opened up new realms of creative expression - I sense an immediate connection with the grassroots enthusiasm that comes from bloggers, especially women over 40. Do you believe that videos are the future? Thoughts?

PS. I didn't get a callback to the audition, as expected, but I'm raring to go to another audition next year. Hahaha!! Thank you all for your best wishes on that though.

Quick, put Hollywood on speed dial!

Remember when a casting agency invited me to audition for a high-falutin' TV commercial last spring? For a luxury Volvo SUV? Scared witless, I went. I was supposed to channel a rich, sophisticated mother-of-the-bride, think pensive Tilda Swinton without the edge. Instead, I squeaked. I did. Like an excited Chihuahua. Don't ask me how it happened.

When it was my turn to "drive" the SUV, I see-sawed the toy plastic steering wheel back and forth the way a toddler pretends to drive, somehow misinterpreting the words "Hamptons" and "wedding" as "Twister Part 2" where I'm driving through a house blowing across the road. Read more about it HERE.

WHAT I WORE TO THE FIRST AUDITION

I was given a round of applause as I exited the audition room. Good riddance? Or thanks for the entertainment. Hahaha! Whatever it was, I'm sure my ego's nine lives are into negative numbers now.

I emailed the casting agency to apologize for squeaking, and in their reply they insisted how, no, you were great - a nice line, well delivered, it's their job. I expected never to hear from them again. (By the way, that finished ad is HERE. If only I could have seen it before my audition I know I would have done better. My lost part is near the end of the clip.)

Well, the casting agency called again yesterday. !!! (last Monday)

For an audition today (Tuesday). Bwahahaha!! Almost a year since the last audition. Quick, speed-dial Hollywood!

And guess what? I went.

WHICH OUTFIT DO YOU THINK I WORE THIS TIME?

1. STRIPES WITH STRIPES

And guess what? I didn't SUCK!!!! Okay, well, maybe a little, but not NEARLY as bad as I did the first time. It helped that this ad had a David Lynch vibe, more up my alley, although that's not supposed to matter, right? I spent the evening before springing my lines loudly and suddenly upon my unwary partner O. Poor man.

2. FLORAL JACKET - LOOKS GOOD WHEN IT MOVES

I was told to dress as myself, although the agency also referenced "fashionista," "Wintour," and "expert" in her guidance. I cocooned myself in colour and elevated my spirits with Miu Miu heels and hair so towering I swear I was picking up satellite signals. And while I walk whenever I can, I drove to this audition, and in doing so experienced the unusual yet pleasing sensation of my hair brushing lightly on the roof of my car.

3. RUFFLES AND STRIPES

Upon arrival I did my best to blend in. "Oh yes, hey, just another actor here. Totally, totally profesh. That's me." But I was certain that at any moment everyone would stand up in unison and point, and with huge gaping mouths make creepy loud rasping sounds like in that movie Invasion of the Body Snatchers, the 1978 version with Donald Sutherland - so good (HERE). They didn't.

At my first audition, the holding room was deathly quiet and lined with tight rows of impossibly handsome young men in suits. As I clicked past them in my dress and heels, I felt like the mother come to tend her children in the 1960 movie Village of the Damned (clip HERE). (All these horror movie references. Hahaha!) The group this time at least included a few chatty men and women of all ages, and kids. Naturally, a touch of chaos always takes the edge off.

4. MOZART JACKET WITH ZIPPER TIE

I can't tell you the details of the ad of course, except to say it was for a food item, and filming will take place over several days in Toronto. I didn't buy an imaginary Beverly Hills mansion online beforehand either; I learned from before that flipping fake real estate is a no-win situation. And while I'm certain I won't get a call-back, I tell you, I feel great! I threw my hat back in the ring, I clambered back onto my high horse, I tried tried again. I'm sure there's a profound LIFE LESSON here, a sacral spiritual yoga mind stretch. Ow!

5. VELVET AND DOTS AND PAISLEY - AGAIN, LOOKS GREAT WHEN IT MOVES

Afterwards, it was clearly time for a self-reward. I still had time on my parking meter and remembered with happy alarm that there was a thrift shop in the neighbourhood. Oblivious to the cold, pelting rain and high winds, I stumble-floated my way there. And...JACKPOT! My usual food rewards, like cheesecake, hot buttered rolls, chocolate and/or cookies, often just end up on my hips, but the "Buy 4 blouses, get one free!" deal really hit my sweet spot. So much for my closet shake-down. Gaaaa!!!

And what did I wear? Outfit 4, the Mozart jacket. It looks better on than it does on the dummy. The items in Outfit 2 with the floral jacket are three of the five self-reward items I bought at the thrift shop - the tie was a gift.

A strange week in the best way. I suppose I'll link something up with Patti and Catherine at Visible Monday (Not Dead Yet Style blog) and #iwillwearwhatilike (Not Dressed as Lamb blog). I'll also link up to Catherine's #SaturdayShareLinkUp.

Have you given yourself any self-rewards lately. If not, get on it!!! Hahaha.

And a little postscript: THIS is what I'm listening to to take me off this screwed up planet for a while. To relaaaaax, to dream. I took that photo today, Friday.

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.

======================================================================

Are you kidding!!? 

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

======================================================================

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!