The theatre is a master of illusion. Its goal is to make productions seem effortless from an audience perspective. But what really goes on behind the scenes? What does it take to put a production together and what is it like to be involved?

Sabrina Cataldo will explore this hidden side of the theatre in her blog, Backstage with Sabbie: A behind-the-scenes romp through the theatre world.

Memoirs of a Costumista
By Sabrina Cataldo

"You know I don't sew, right?" was my response when Colleen asked me to do costumes for the one-act plays she was directing this fall. "Well, there was that pencil case I made in Grade 8 Home Ec, but I don't think it would play well onstage." She assured me that prowess with a needle and thread was not a requirement for the position of Costume Goddess (yes, I am putting that on my resume), and mentioned that my partner in crime, Jolaine, had already agreed to help. How could I say no?

Our quest: put together dapper ensembles for the casts of Babel Rap and Louis and Dave. We began our search in the RLT costume room, a place where it's easy to get lost in the memories of past shows. "Oh, look - there's the dress I wore in Anne of Green Gables and there's that pair of overalls that has been worn in every play I've been in."

Costumes cram each crevice of the room, from the endless racks of hanging clothes to the bins stuffed with every costume trapping imaginable - suspenders, military hats, crinolines, shoes - you name it. It's a virtual cornucopia of costumes from all eras. It was hard not to strip down and try everything on for fun. But we had work to do and the costume room delivered some key goods: coveralls, work boots, and perhaps the most hideous 80s jean jacket that has ever plagued mankind.

We were still short a few costume pieces, though, so next stop: Value Village. If the RLT costume room was a costumista's paradise, this was our Mecca. Stepping through its doors, we were greeted by the smell of musty clothes and endless possibilities. (But mostly the mustiness.) It's easy to get distracted in VV, because there's just so much stuff. Our eyes widened at the array of shiny new Hallowe'en costumes and accessories. Arms loaded with red flippy wigs, feather boas and fake lashes, we commended each other on our purchases, almost forgetting the real reason we had gone shopping: "Oh, right - the one-act costumes!"

We weaved through the aisles, giggling as we passed the used underwear section. (Seriously, who donates this stuff, and worse yet, who buys it?) We were looking for a heavy metal T-shirt for Louis, but the majority of the shirts looked as though they had come out of cereal boxes. Some of my favourites were: "Bob's Nob's Tour '91", "Yorkton Junior High Jazz Band", and a shirt from a credit services company that proclaimed, "Kickin' Debt and Takin' Names" (oh, yeah, you're tough). "That's it - I'm not feeling bad about putting my stuff in the bin anymore," said Jolaine.

We finally found a Jim Morrison shirt, work boots, a Canora Credit Union ball cap, an Eddie Bauer plaid shirt and a pair of frayed jeans (that I would later rough up even further with some sandpaper), all for just $26.43. Hey, we may not be able to sew, but we sure can shop.

As an actor, I found costuming a show an interesting experience. It's a different way to get into the characters' heads and understand their personalities and motivations. With each costume choice, I asked myself, what clothing or accessories would make this character more authentic and believable from an audience perspective? What can I do to help the actors feel even more comfortable in their characters' skins? It made me think about the many times I've slipped on the perfect costume that has allowed me to lose myself in a character. I hope I was able to do that for someone else this time.

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