Socks, Shoes and Other Opera Accessories

I keep getting this feeling like I want to post but I have nothing to say. Well, nothing new. I could of course go on and on about the meta-opera thing, or any of the other subjects that I've beaten pretty much to death over the past two years.

So let's go back to fashion. I've decided to go with the brown outfit for Thursday. If only I had earrings to go with it... Ha! Tonight I'll make the perfect pair. And then I'll need a necklace... hm... a trusted fashion expert, blogger, opera singer and regular reader recommended a long silver necklace. I can see the appeal. I'll have to paw through my tangled costume jewelry pile. The other option, which she didn't mention but hopefully will comment on now that I'm mentioning it, is a necklace that doesn't reach the shirt at all. It's a pretty scoopy-neck top so there's room for something to cover the freckled paleness of my upper neck. I have a necklace in mind, of many many gold-toned chainy pieces... I'll have to untangle it and post a picture.

I never did comment on the shoes. I thought I was going to like one pair better, the solid brown ones, but it turns out that not only do I like the others better, but they fit better too! The solid pair had a low heel that ended in about a centimeter square. Every step I took I teetered on the brink of a sprained ankle. But even more problematic: Toe cleavage. I do NOT like toe cleavage. The moment I put the shoes on, before I even attempted to hobble across the room, I was like, "Nuh uh."

The other pair has this shiny part but it's much subtler than I thought it would be. It feels ok to stand around in. Sort of. I will, of course, wear my hiking shoes until I arrive at Lincoln Center. And I have a secret... I almost always slip my heels off during the performance. Any performance. In fact, at Die Fledermaus I brought an extra pair of socks because I remembered from the previous year that it was kind of cold in there. So yes, once the house lights went out, off went my shoes and on went the socks. Tres chic, no? Don't tell anyone, ok?