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:raises eyebrow:
Dec. 28th, 2007 02:08 pmoh, the fun of being the known authority on a particular outfit. Especially when people's memories of a costume are different from what the costume actually *is*.
Mum just rang me up asking if neighbour could borrow my wig for the Cabaret Liza outfit. Which segued into me pointing out what the costume actually consists *of*.
'I'm kind of worried about wearing hotpants -'
'She doesn't wear hotpants! They're not even very short! And they're not bloody shiny!'
'Look, she's actually wearing stockings, but you can get away with fishnets.'
'Green nailpolish. Not black. Really.'
'Fake eyelashes.'
'No, there is very little cleavage on display when it comes to the waistcoat, thankyou.'
'...short, low-heeled black ankle boots. Not knee-high stilettos. Where did you get this idea?'
'A cane? Excuse me? What cane?'
Mum just rang me up asking if neighbour could borrow my wig for the Cabaret Liza outfit. Which segued into me pointing out what the costume actually consists *of*.
'I'm kind of worried about wearing hotpants -'
'She doesn't wear hotpants! They're not even very short! And they're not bloody shiny!'
'Look, she's actually wearing stockings, but you can get away with fishnets.'
'Green nailpolish. Not black. Really.'
'Fake eyelashes.'
'No, there is very little cleavage on display when it comes to the waistcoat, thankyou.'
'...short, low-heeled black ankle boots. Not knee-high stilettos. Where did you get this idea?'
'A cane? Excuse me? What cane?'
