By Karen

Do you know how to sew? Many women of our generation learned in school, or from their mothers. I was taught to use a needle and thread when I attended a girl’s convent school in London. My mother and I actually collaborated on a couple of hand sewn Marimekko shifts. Neither of us was too good, and we never used a sewing machine. But I retain the ability to put up a hem and sew on a button. In the office I kept a sewing kit right next to the clear nail polish for runs in my stockings.

I recently went to a fascinating show created by the Costume Industry Coalition, an organization that represents the craftspeople who really can sew—they make costumes for Broadway and TV. I had never really thought about it, but of course most of the amazing outfits we see when we go to the theatre, live or on the screen, are one of a kind masterpieces that take weeks to make. In New York, they are made by over fifty small, unique, independent businesses and artisans. All of them have suffered during COVID as the demand for costumes fell off rather dramatically, and this show is a modest fundraiser to help them out.

The show demonstrates many aspects of costume creation. The people who make them use machines of drastically different vintages, from antique sewing machines to 3D printers.  The construction of each costume is extremely specific to the character and the actor, and even the event, and some seem to require engineering expertise. For example, many of those in The Lion King have hidden pockets for microphones and such, and because a lot of wires need to go from neck to hip some are designed with what is essentially an external corset to keep the actor from bending in the middle. Totally different are the Storm Troopers’ outfits in Star Wars, which look very solid but are actually very light-weight moulded plastic—though the actor still could not bend in the middle, as far as I could see. And then there are the 3-D printed costumes that probably weigh nothing and are complex beyond belief.

Naturally, actors need great undergarments. For that, they depend on a specialty foundation creator—someone known as the Fairy Bra Mother. Her company, Bra Tenders made, among other things, the fabulous green tights in Wicked. And you can shop there too! (If it’s good enough for the women of Moulin Rouge, it probably is good enough for you!)

If you are in NYC, and especially if you are interested in making clothes, go have a look. Check to see if there will be a talk you might find interesting, about particular aspects of the costumer’s craft. You might also like the patterns they are selling. In any event, you will be impressed. You’ll also help out some local business people.

And—maybe—you will find a new calling. The CIC suggests that some of their members are hiring, and it is apparent that age is not an issue. What could be a more fun second or third act than making mind blowing costumes for fabulous shows?