Saturday, 9 October 2010

I've probably said it before, and shall no doubt say it again unless I work out how to check for such things logically, but hooray for bikes when it comes to wearing high heels.  I say this because I attended a premiere tonight of a Händel opera at the theatre, and for some reason became convinced that the only colour to wear to such a premiere was light green.  The only light green thing I own is a silk jacket with contrasting detail in even lighter green and gold swirls on the (upstanding) collar and cuffs.  So that was a given.  Then of course the silk demanded a pairing with another silk item, hence a rather nice asymmetric black silk skirt.  However the only shoes I have which went with the above were teeteringly high.

Luckily, because I cycle everywhere, this was no problem.  Walking or standing in such shoes is HELL; but cycling, it really makes no difference how high the heels are, so long as they don't get tangled in the pedals (now that CAN cause problems!)

I'm relieved to say (because several friends and acquaintances were heavily involved) that I loved the production.  Doesn't hurt that I'm a complete pyromaniac and that various elements of the staging were alight at different times.  Thrilling!  FIRE!!!  OK, yes, voices were good too...

What was most interesting, though, was discussing the production with various members of the public afterwards.  Just goes to show, don't damn well underestimate ANYONE!  Some of the most astute observations came from a lady who is getting on in years and almost literally half my height when I'm wearing these heels.  She attends most of the opera performances here and her opinion is well worth listening to - and all delivered with the most charming of smiles.

I have to say, though, I really still haven't got to grips with the etiquette at such premieres. I was expecting speeches etc etc from the Intendant (big cheese) but apparently this only happens at the grosses Haus, the main auditorium, rather than the kleines Haus, the smaller, more intimate space in which tonight's performance took place.  Oh yeah, unless it's an operetta, in which case, all bets are off...

I confined myself to talking to our über-intelligent but diminutive resident critic and  buying her a drink, congratulating my fellow artistes, then proving to myself that the outfit was no problem in cycling home.  Must be late in the season, mind - those few rabbits who dared to cross my path scarpered quickly when yelled at!

Or maybe they were just intimidated by the heels...

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