Playing dress-ups
Manawatu Standard
Last updated 12:00 26/06/2009
DRESS-UPS: Palmerston North's own 'costume lady.'
The Manawatu Theatre Society's doyen of dressups has been making peoples wishes come true for over a decade. She took MICHELLE DUFF for a walk on the wild side.
Back in 1997, there was a nationwide scandal involving a cross-dressing Palmerston North police officer.
Local cop Paul Jones, 29, was revealed as a closet cross-dresser one
December, when he was accused of stealing a second hand dress, worth $52, from
The dress was purple, a size 10. Jones denied the theft, insisting he would never fit such a small size. But the case was closed, he was convicted, and seven months later he was sacked from the force ostensibly for the theft, not the cross dressing.
Though the rest of the country found out that December, there was one woman who knew long before the court case that Jones was fond of frocks.
''Oh yeah, he used to come in here all the time,'' says Adrienne Weatherly, flinging a bejewelled hand in the direction of a row of dresses. ''He'd try stuff on...I just thought 'oh yeah,' and left him to it.
''I could probably tell a lot of people's secrets, if I kept a record of everything.''
She breaks into laughter, her chuckles bouncing off bowler hats and clinging to the sparkly scarves that hang off every spare inch of space in the Manawatu Theatre society's costume hire.
Weatherly is Palmerston North's doyen of dress-ups. She's been working in the realm of the fictitious for 14 years ''do I have to own that in print?,'' she cries adjusting wigs, smoothing skirts, and giving costume advice to all who enter.
As vice-president of the Manawatu Theatre Society, Weatherly runs the costume hire as well as clothing performers in the society's various productions.
If it all sounds a bit serious, rest assured it's not.
''You are playing dress ups, you can't take yourself too seriously,'' says Weatherly, the words drawling out in her smoke-husky voice. ''I am just playing with grown-ups instead of dolls.''
Out the back, Weatherly's office is a cluster of books with titles like ifCostuming for theatrenf, stray feathers and jars of nail polish.
The phone rings. She picks it up. ''No I don't, I'm sorry love. I've got tutus, but not in green,'' she says into the handpeice. She puts it down.
''Right, where were we?''
The costumes. The majority of the outfits have been used in shows, while the rest are donated much of it old-fashioned stuff, given when family members pass away.
Weatherly knows where everything is. With a flick of a well-practiced wrist she can transform you into the 101 Dalmations Cruella de Ville, a mermaid, Willy Wonka or an Egyptian princess.
But when people come in, she just lets them go for it.
''It's a place you have got to be able to come in and rummage and play,'' she says.
A middle-aged man is loitering uncomfortably in the doorway.
''What can we help you with, love?'' Weatherly asks. He's looking for a costume for a kiwiana-themed party, he explains.
''What about Fred Dagg? He's got a singlet and shorts but you could always chuck a bush shirt on if it got too cold,'' Weatherly says, rummaging in a box.
''What about the
Weatherly doesn't have a specific outfit, but within a couple of minutes she's found a cape, a wizard's hat, a grey beard and a wig.
She shoves the wig on the man's head, adjusting the beard. ''It's a bit more hair than he's got, but I think it looks kinda cool anyway,'' she says.
Beneath the beard, a muffled voice can be heard. ''That will do it, beauty.''
As well as the more popular costumes like the kiwiana ensembles, the 60s and 70s, the witches and fairies there's some more eccentric outfits.
That's where the real fun begins, Weatherly says.
''It's good when people come in and they don't just want to be princesses, it's getting over that whole 'I've got to look pretty' syndrome.''
There's a gigantic Christmas tree, with giant presents which fit over your shoes. A big Tux dog biscuits sack has been fashioned into a shirt with a bow tie, to be worn if you abhor the tuxedo.
Other hit costumes include the ''sassy'' outfits, pirate wenches and sexy sergeants popular with Linton Army wives, looking for a special something to greet their husbands' with upon return from overseas.
And, though they may not all as overt as the cross-dressing cop, men do have a secret love of women's clothing, Weatherly confirms.
''I get lots of dads in drag...that's always funny, dressing the boys in frocks. It's true, the butchest boy will put on a frock and all of a sudden they get very very effeminate.''
She pauses. ''I don't suppose I get surpised by what somebody wants to dress up as, I'm past that. Truckers come in here and they're all like 'rah rah rah I don't eat quiche,' but they'll put on a frock.''
Weatherly prides herself on telling people the truth about how they look.
''I'm very honest with people, because most people are stepping out of their comfort zone, if they look really bad and I don't tell them, if it was me I would be really really p***d off.''
Most of all, she loves being part of people's party plans. She gets to help them with the best part of the night dressing up and wears her misnomer of 'the costume lady,' with pride.
''People are always in a good mood when they come in here, because they are going to a party. I don't have to deal with grumpy people.
''And hey, you always know when all the parties are on.''