I usually don't post about the harp side of things here, but sometimes I just have to decompress in the best way I know - text.
So today I had a fashion disaster while preparing for a wedding. I have a brand new, sleek, pleated black dress skirt. I put on the silk white shirt I had planned to go with it ... and the best to describe the fit was that it floated on me.
(Note to self: you still have a few pieces of clothing left over from when you were close to forty pounds heavier. If the tag says medium, for pete's sake try it ON first.)
All right, don't panic. Back-up white shirt with three quarter sleeves. I look at myself. I look like an upscale schoolmarm.
Usually I have plenty of other options, but this was a very Scottish wedding. The groomsmen were going to be in tartans, and I had already told the bride I would wear my tartan sash.
For those not familiar with the Duncan tartan (ancient pattern - it's much prettier than the modern version), the predominant colors are somewhat unusual shades of green and blue with white. I know tartans aren't supposed to match, but for a wedding I don't think it's a good idea to clash with your own attire.
I cannot figure out if the one remaining, matching-with-tartan shirt I have - a pale green - is appropriate for a 5pm wedding. Finally I decide better safe (and schoolmarmish) than sorry.
I discover it's hard to drive in the skirt.
Apparently, sexy Scottish schoolmarms aren't supposed to drive.
Now I should add that this is one of "those" weddings, which surprised me because they were so Celtic in their sensibilities. The only move away from the traditional repertoire the couple had originally chosen was All I Ask of You for the unity candle, which was fine-and-dandy with me, because I love that song to bits.
Then comes the fateful question. I put the song on my repertoire list because I have to, really, but I don't point it out unless someone asks - and then I've got to admit I sort of lean on the strings a bit without actively making a mistake so it hopefully doesn't sound appealing and they choose something else.
Alas, this doesn't always work. So "those" weddings = in which I find myself playing Wagner's Bridal Chorus.
The Bell Event Center in Cincinnati is a gorgeous space. It was far larger than I had pictured; I was glad to be mic'ed. Beautiful wedding, beautiful venue. Then I found out that the cocktail hour I was supposed to be playing was outside. (I'm ninety percent sure this was my misunderstanding, not theirs.) And ohhhh! So cold!
The DJ for the reception was really impressed that I was willing to be outside, though. And someone asked for my card and asked if I did funerals. I'm never sure how to take that.
Upshot - I emerge triumphant, if I do say so myself.
Got a last-minute half-hour stage-set tomorrow. Waugh.