With Mother's Day looming, thoughts of breakfast in bed, flowers & maybe even a choccie croissant (yeah, right - like that happens every year!) went out of the window with a call to film a popular alien movie. It was almost certain that I would be chosen so Mothers Day would have to be postponed. However, two nights before filming I got the dreaded text:
'Sorry, you have not been chosen."
Oh well, never mind, I had Mothers day to look forward to, didn't I?
About 11am the next morning my mobile rang.
"They changed their minds & want you for a costume fitting."
"When?"
"Now!"
This would have been fine but I was nowhere near where I should have been and, at that moment in time, was car less!
"Of course I can do it, no problem." said I with somewhat pseudo confidence.
S**t! How to get to the nearest station? No time to do hair & make up or even to put on my best pants - today I would have to be Bridget Jones! An Electrician working near by heard my plight (expletives) & I explained my predicament to him.
"Got the van outside, hop in."
He will never know how grateful I was ( and still am to this day).
I made it to NW10 with time to spare. I needn't have worried. I walked in , introduced myself & was asked to wait. So, I sat on the stairs ( there were no chairs) & waited...and waited...and waited. I found I was beginning to develop a slight cough - you know the type - the 'I'm coughing to remind you I'm still here' cough. Eventually, someone came to see me & showed me into the gents dressing room which had seating.
"We'll have to move you out if any men need dressing."
Well, I wasn't there for long, when, you've guessed it,
"We need the room back again." So back to the stairs I went. Lots of men for 'costume' came and went. I stayed put. I stood up, walked around, pretended to have a fascinating text & was about to give up hope when finally after an hour and a half I was summoned up to the dressing area along with another girl that had just shown up.
Walking in to the room I could see what the hold up had been. A lovely young girl was being fitted, or should I say not fitted, into various suits, dresses, in fact anything they could find that was a size 6 or preferably smaller.
The girl next to me began to strip off wearing, to my horror, the most beautiful Teddy, stockings and the most beautiful suspender belt. I, on the other hand was frantically trying to get out of my jeans to get into the black suit. on offer. This wasn't an easy task, my jeans refused to leave me...leaving me sort of half kicking and half pulling them off - how graceful!
Now, I am a size 10, always have been and probably always will be. However, standing next to Miss size 6 & Miss Underwear (size 4) I felt as if I were size of an elephants rear end. There they stood, completely at ease with themselves, whilst I tried to pull off my jeans and at the same time, get in to this skirt which refused to budge any further than half way up my thighs...showing off my large Bridget Jones style pants and my socks, one of which had a hole (Well, I wasn't expecting to go out, was I?). By this time the second dresser had come to help. Looking at the first girl now sporting a beautiful fitted dress she draped an elegant coat over her shoulders whilst showing her some gorgeous shoes. The skirt that had refused to budge over my thighs was taken off me and given to Miss Underwear along with a matching jacket which, of course, fitted perfectly. So, there the two of them stood looking elegant whilst I stood there in my large pants, holy socks and don't even go there about the bra... I began to think that possible everybody in 1960s was incredibly stick thin. Surely somebody must have eaten in those days? A second skirt was offered which merely added to the humiliation as the zip couldn't be done up. Costume dressers talked of 'letting it out' and a tape measure was suddenly whipped out in front of me. Sudden measurement death was about to occur, especially with Miss Size 6 & Miss Underwear still watching. I was spared the indignity of the tape measure as a suit hanging on the rail caught one of the dressers eye. It was thrust toward me with the sort of sigh that says 'It's going to be a long day". I grabbed it & pulled on the skirt - it fitted! It had a matching jacket & came with beige shoes & handbag. I did feel a bit like Margaret Thatcher when a beige hat was found and plonked on top of my head!
Two days later the filming took place at Somerset House in the Strand. Call time was midday, so as I was early, I took coffee on the terrace which was bathed in sunlight & thought,
"It doesn't get much better than this."
So, look closely at the opening of X Men, you might, just might see a lady sitting at a cafe table sipping wine with a gentleman - who knows, it might just be me!
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