Dressing the PartPosted: August 26, 2009
Today I stood in front of my closet for twenty minutes trying to decide what to wear. I’m going into the studio to help Rick shoot the rest of his project – he’s interviewing MGC, the young rap artist that Daniel LeMelle is working with. We’re going to get shots of MGC rapping, and talking with Daniel about his new project. I will be in the background, setting lights and schlepping things. No one will be looking at me. No one will care about me. But I can’t figure out what to wear.
I want to look like a producer. No – I want to look like a writer. But we’ll be in the studio, so maybe I should look like some cool music person. I don’t think a cool music person would call themselves a cool music person. A cool music person would be unique looking. Hmmm … what costume can I put on to convey “I’m totally spontaneous.” And cool. How can I look cool? The moment you try to look cool you’ve blown it. Whenever I try to look cool I throw on a bunch of black and I invariably end up looking like a stagehand at a puppet show.
Why is it so important to me to try to create some image? Why can’t I just wear clothes that I like? I think part of it is living in LA where image is everything, but I realized a long time ago that I couldn’t compete with the gorgeous starlets or the execs in their expensive clothes. My taste may say “Barney’s,” but my budget says “Ross for Less.”
Part of it is age. What looks fun and cool on a twenty-year old can look like a clown costume on a middle-aged body. And there’s the heat, too. I love wearing black – it’s the state color in New York, where I grew up. But LA is hot and sunny right now. Sweaty is never a cool look. But black will look cool in the studio. Do I endure sweat outside for a few moments of cool inside? Decisions, decisions.
Now that I’m unemployed and I don’t go to an office everyday, I don’t have to dress any particular way. I can just be me – whatever the hell that is. I need an image consultant. Or maybe a costume designer, for all the characters I play in my head. Why is getting dressed so hard?