I’ve been MIA for a bit. Not only has school been crazy but I presented a recital as part of my degree requirements. I’ve got four of those suckers, total, and this was the third one.
Also, recital was designated a solo recital. No chamber music. No collaborations, other than with my fabulous pianist. Me, standing up, not sitting, for 55 minutes worth of music. Knocking knees and all.
So I thought I’d write a bit about some of the various components of last Monday, starting with the most important part.
And it was a last-minute dealie, too. I was hunting Marshall’s for a flashy top of some sort to pair with black suit pants and flats – nothing terribly interesting, but it works for me. I found nothing. Nothing hit that balance of a little bit of flash, flexibility for breathing, formality and not too much flesh. Horn players in recital shouldn’t be flashing too much cleavage. Or maybe that’s my old-fashioned upbringing talking.
So I decided to check out Dillard’s, a place I’ve never been. It kind of reminded of The Bay, maybe a little bit of the long-gone Eaton’s. But a little less focused and definitely not Canadian. I searched the whole stinking place and the I spotted this. Keep in mind, I wasn’t looking for a dress, I was looking for a shirt. A top. Something that stops somewhere around my hips, possibly an inch of two lower. Not a FULL-LENGTH, FORMAL EVENING GOWN.
But I found it. And it was perfect. And it was on SALE! I thought it was too good to be true. It couldn’t possibly be comfortable, could it? It was. I couldn’t breathe in it, could I? I could. Did I look awesome? I DID.
There were two great things about this dress: ruching and a knit lining are apparently every horn girl’s best friend. A close third? The length. I wore flat, not so pretty sandals hat nobody could see (or hear – they were stealth shoes) and it felt like I was playing barefoot. Bonus.
All this add up to one thing: I looked good and felt great. I didn’t feel restricted but I did feel special. And did I mention it was on SALE?