The rest of the group was game, too. I will eventually wheedle the price of Joan's hat out of her, but I know Kim and Pamela trawled thrift shops, as I did for my shoes. Susan borrowed a vintage sweater set that once belonged to my grandmother and, with her spot-on hairdo, showed up as the brunette incarnation of the character Celia. Julie got off a plane and onto the toll road, no time to run home and change, but her daughter Emilie sported Julie's mom's going-away dress from her 1960 wedding. And her hat was adorable.
I love dressing up into history. I have to be honest: I had trouble suppressing the character that was begging to arise, and only the sense of decorum the other Women possess kept me from standing in front of the movie screen, making fake announcements "on behalf of the theater" prior to the show. I had my bad drawl dancing on my tongue's tip, and more than one "y'all" with more Southern sugar than Texas warrants escaped despite my lukewarm efforts to rein it in.
I've had the pleasure recently of reading several manuscripts in our group. I'm looking forward to adding a couple more to the checked pile, hopefully by year's end. The ones I've read so far would be terrific on the big screen, and I would love to have to shop for an outfit for the show. (We are all of us fascinated by history, and our work shows it.)
But ladies, are you listening? I want you to include me as an extra when you get the contract. Promise me? I probably already have something to wear.