The Orange Peril

I have an orange addiction, I acknowledge this. The 'You've been Tangoed' monstrosity seen in my last post is just the latest manifestation of a habit that began with a couple of t-shirts, progressed through a new winter coat and a pair of glasses, and wound up with a 25 yard skirt, a tribal bra and an as yet unfinished cabaret set.

It's got to the stage now where i'm not allowed to suggest costuming themes to my troupe mates, because they're sick of looking like adverts for Easyjet. And yet I still can't stop.

I'm not even sure why I like it so much. Maybe it's because it's a compromise? It's extrovert and eye-catching, but it doesn't have the immediate connotations that red has (and besides, no one who blushes as much as i do can get away with wearing red near their face). It's a warm, feminine colour, but not as stereotypical as pink. I've never been a girly girl, and the only pink I wear is hot, spiced with pvc and leather and worn with dreadlocks. Orange can be deep and grounded, or bright and eye-catching. I can blend it with earthy naturals, or make it pop with vibrant greens and deep blues. The one thing I can't do, though, is buy an orange veil.

So I had to make one.

It started with this ravishing silk veil from one of my favourite sellers, Kookie Kaftan, which was intended to go with my gold/bronze bedlah. Unfortunately the gold turned out to be too yellow for my costume, but having spent fifteen quid on it, I was less than inclined to send it back, especially as it's a dream to dance with, light and airy, and forgiving of my rough handling.

So I dyed it. I used Dylon's 'Goldfish' orange, and spent a happy evening stirring a witches brew of dye, salt, water, veil and and a charity shop top that desperately needed a revamp (white clothes never stay that way for long around me).

I hoicked it out of its mix about half an hour ago, and strung it out over the shower rail to dry. By the way, isn't wet silk a bitch to handle? I thought I was going to rip it to shreds trying to get it to unstick from itself and lie flat.

And now I wait, to see whether I have a new fix for my addiction or new fuel for the rag bag!