Shelley In Her College Play Ch. 01byM.MartineMatheson©
This is true.
Shelley stood in the dressing room at Victoria's Secret and mulled her selections. Some were strictly utilitarian – matching bras and panties, her absolute requirement, can't wear sets that don't match – some were specific purchases for specific dresses – this dress needs a sheer bra in nude, that sweater needs a molded cup – and some were, well…play clothes for grown-ups. As usual when she thought about this, Shelley giggled.
In the play clothes category were the following items: a white satin "bride's corset," that she thought with sweet satisfaction "ought to make Dean's eyes pop" if she ever mustered the courage to wear it.
And therein lay the quandary. Dressing up in this stuff would be fun, but she was far too shy to wear these things for real. She remembered her intense, intense, embarrassment when she appeared in a college play and she had to wear an old fashioned white full slip for the entire production. When she auditioned for the role, a boozy gal who used her body to get what she wanted, no mention was made of wardrobe. They wanted her to keep her hair long, bleach it blonde, and loved that it was long enough to reach her waist. She agreed to bleach it only because she thought it might get her the part. And it did. But she hadn't counted on the wardrobe.
The director, an acquaintance, not a friend, was planning to be a real director, and he approached every aspect of the production with an exacting eye to detail. And he rode Shelley mercilessly during their line readings, and later, during rehearsals. He seemed to get off on pushing her and pushing her. This three-character one act play would be one of trilogy he produced the same night at the local community theater. Some actors were appearing in all three, but Shelley in only one, the last one, and she was the featured performer around whom the action of the play revolved. The other two characters were the men in her character's life who were fighting for her. Shelley thought it was a riot that the two actors playing her suitors were closeted gay guys...but she had to admit it made playing her kissing scenes easier.
But the wardrobe. God, what was she going to do? She was trying to earn her place at the university, trying to find a group to fit in with, and she had already made friends with several of the girls involved. As the rookie, she got an inkling as to the initiation process in an acting class. They were miming. The first person had to "build" something silently, using only his or her body and facial expressions. The next person had to "use" whatever was being built, and then modify it or change completely, to build something for the third person, and so on. It was fun, but it was hard. Shelley's powers of concentration were sorely tested.
As her mime partner, an older theater student with a reputation for being a lady killer, was creating his portrayal, Shelley instantly perceived that he was pretending to be walking inside a house, going upstairs, and opening a door. She felt her cheeks begin to flame, however, as she realized he was "building" a toilet, and she was expected to do something with it. "You fucker" she thought. "I could wimp out and make a sink to brush my teeth," she thought. "Or I can go for it."
So Shelley, shaking with fright, mimed pulling down her jeans and using the porcelain appliance. Her bold move earned her laughter, appreciative applause – and a place with the group.
So, now she was in rehearsals with the same student who had hazed her as her director. Small world. And he wanted her to wear a slip as her costume. "And I'd rather you didn't wear a bra under it," he said, looking at her levelly.
"You can ‘rather' all you want, but I am not going to come out on that stage in something my little brother and father can't see me in," she retorted hotly. "I'm not getting paid for this, and you aren't getting off on this. I'll work on the slip idea and figure something out."
She'd left rehearsal then, fully expecting to be "fired" for her sass, but she wasn't. When she went home for the weekend, she asked her mother for advice. And to alert her to what was coming, Shelley thought.
"Cherie we can do this! We can make you something, alter something. We can find you something that will be appropriate. Leave it to me," her mother said comfortingly.
And her mother was good to her word. She purchased a white satin knee length slip with a beautiful, sheer French lace bodice. The same lace bound the hem and the walking slit up one leg. Using delicate hand stitching, Martine sewed a lining into the bodice so Shelley would be more modestly covered. When she tried it on, she beamed at her mother and hugged her. The slip looked sexy and pretty, but not sleazy. If she taped her boobs together to keep them from bouncing, she wouldn't have to worry about falling out of the slip. A little tape would also take care of the nipple problem.
Mr. Future Director approved her choice, grudgingly, but told her she couldn't wear the nipple tape. How much more humiliating was this ordeal going to be?
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