In the list of things you want to happen to you on the way to a dance class, having the driver in front of you hit a motorcyclist and then drive off, is probably pretty low on most people's lists. Guess what happened to me this morning when I set off to a burlesque event in another city?
The biker got off with bruises and some cosmetic damage to his bike. He was pretty sanguine about it, just thanked us for stopping to help him, and taking down our details in case he needed witness statements. I think I was more shaken up than he was (having lost a friend to a similar accident); by the time I reached my first workshop ( an hour late and after three trips round the city ring road, bloody SatNav), I was apparently looking worse than I felt, because the organiser immediately offered to sit me down and fetch me a cup of tea!
Fortunately, the day took a more positive swing from then on. Although I'd missed half the workshop, I was in time to get to grips with the choreography we were learning. This was a full strip of gloves, dress, knickers and bra, and was the perfect medicine for my emo state. It's hard to feel down and depressed when you've just highkicked your knickers across the hall!
The workshop was followed by a very ladylike afternoon tea of sandwiches, scones, cakes and the promised cup of tea. Matters then got considerably less ladylike as we embarked on a pastie-making lesson. You can see my first attempts above. They're fiddly to make, but great fun, and the gratification is a lot more instant than beading a belly dance costume! I have plans for a set to match my peacock costume...
Last class of the day was a makeup master class, beginning with a retro day look, at which I failed miserably because I don't own a single neutral eyeshadow. Fortunately we moved swiftly on to stage makeup, and got to layer on endless colours, glosses, glitters and liners under the watchful eye of our teacher, Fulya. We learnt loads of tips, like highlighting the brow bone, contouring the cheeks with blusher, how to stick eyelashes to your face not the table...
I went for what Fulya called the absinthe and alcohol look, very heavy, very dark eye makeup (it's actually royal purple, the camera lies! and adds 20lb), pale cheeks and deep red lips (which wore off on the way home). Then the whole lot got sprinkled with glitter!