OUT OF THE CLOSET

Welcome to my world!

It's a world so filled with Swarovski crystals that you will need to wear sunglasses to protect your retinas from the blinding glare!

The Royal Palace is a wondrous Hollywood abode filled with diaphanous silk veils in a rainbow of colors, luxurious hand-made costumes dripping with fringe, boxes containing yards and yards of yet-to-be-used sparkly fabric, drawers full of beads, wheels of stretch sequns and packages of sparkly trim, Tupperware containers full of rhinestones hair-flowers, and shelves groaning with the weight of way-too-many rhinestone tiaras and crowns.

It's a magical place where feathered showgirl headdresses hang on the walls alongside vintage belly dance album covers; a place where the bathroom mirror is literally so covered with used bindi's it's hard to see your face and the neighboring shelves hold enough make-up to rival a a major branch of Sephora.

It's also a place where visitors can barely navigate due to the proliferation of gig bags, suitcases, vintage hat-boxes housing wigs and hair-pieces and plastic storage containers chock full of blinged-out stage-wear.

It's a place where vacuum cleaners are rendered almost completely useless due to the stunning amount of coins, sequins, sheesha mirrors, shed boa-feathers and broken beaded fringe on the floor. I went through three of them last year- all damaged beyond repair.

It's a place where multi-colored glitter is prevalent, even in the cat's litter-box.

I knew things were getting bad a few years ago, when I watched one of my cats defecate almost seven inches of royal blue single-sequin trim ( kitty was ok thankfully ) but oh...shitting glitter?!?!? THE SHAME I FELT! Did that stop the insanity? No- I just vowed to be more careful, but somehow, it never worked.

Every surface in my house is literally COVERED in glitter- as I am. As is my bed, the yard, my car and every hotel room and air-plane I set foot in, even for a second. Body glitter has a longer half-life than Uranium, Plutonium or any other radioactive element- I can certainly vouch for that!!

Tonight, I tried to make good on a New year's Resolution... namely to re-organize my costumes. Only the belly dance costumes, for God's sake not all of them...not the burlesque stuff, the Carmen Miranada outfits, evening gowns, Indian ( both Native American and East Indian) headresses, pirate tricorns, sombreros, Santa Hats, sailor caps, shoes....awww HAy-yell no! Just the belly dancing stuff.

I actually managed to make some progress, about three hour's worth. I sorted through them weeded a few out for sale, put some in a "repair" pile, and organized them as best I could. Organizing and cleaning are not really in my skill-set...but making a mess is truly one of my talents!

The I took stock, so here's the inventory:

64 FUNCTIONAL COSTUMES ( justified junkie-style by the fact that I probably do about 320-345 shows in a given a year for the past fifteen or so years)

6 COSTUMES IN NEED OF REPAIR

5 FOLKLORIC-TYPE COSTUMES

4 COSTUMES FOR SALE ( as of this writing)

2 COSTUMES I DON'T WEAR ANY MORE BUT HAVE SENTIMENTAL ATTACHMENT TO AND WILL NEVER SELL

14 HIP SCARVES

8 SWORDS OF VARYING SIZE, WEIGHT, LENGTH

2 SHAMADANS

3 ASSAYA/CANES

9 WORKING SETS OF FINGER CYMBALS, VARYING SIZES

*This list does not include an accurate count of stray skirts, veils, choli tops, Melodia pants, OR the two costumes ( just realized) sitting in my gig bag, OR the random veils, hip scarves and student-loaner cymbals in my class bag.

It's much worse than I thought. Perhaps i should read re-read my own first post.