Dressing Down

Image courtesy of Artnet/Henry Patrick Raleigh, Theater Dressing Room

Before the Parade Passes By

I hurried into the small

basement room

and began unbuttoning

the elaborate buttons

on my pale lavender jacket. 

By the time

I made it across the room

to the scarred wooden chair

by the red-bricked wall,

I was already undoing

the fasteners

on my skirt.

Standing in front

of the mirror

I watched myself drape

the skirt and jacket

over the chair’s back.

Inhibitions,

shed at the door

like my pale lavender jacket

with its elaborate buttons

and the matching skirt

were never a key point,

and besides,

no one else n the room

seemed to care, anyway.

                                   

I stepped into

a violent array

of spangles and bright colors,

adjusting myself

as needed

(and it was needed)

and then gave one final

appraising look

in the mirror,

before dashing

back out of the room.

Behind the heavy curtains

I waited for my cue.

###

Process notes:  Years ago, I was in a production of Hello Dolly!  During the course of each performance, I had to make a quick change from my 'street clothes' costume (an elegant suit apropos of the Gilded Age) into a spangly showgirl costume in order to appear on the float for the 'Before the Parade Passes By' musical number.  (Then, after the number - just as quickly - I had to change back again.)  

This narrative poem was written in response to two prompts:  Big Tent Poetry's 'write about getting dressed somewhere other than a bedroom or a bathroom,' and Poetry Tow Truck's 'write about something common, like Sylvia Plath's mirror.'