Something Wicked This Way Comes



I consider myself a fairly cultured person, but for some reason, I am sort of hit and miss with musical theater. I think a lot of times, I have to remind myself that this is LIVE and it isn't a movie with tons of special effects. I remember seeing a production of Les Miserables in San Francisco, and almost wanting to walk out, I thought it was so bad. But I have also seen a local production of Showboat, which I had no problem with.

Last night we went to see Wicked, which is playing at the Pantages Theater in Hollywood. I have been to every major theater in the greater Southern California area, but never the Pantages. Well, at least I saved the best for last. The place is an Art Deco palace of the likes I have never seen. It was fabulous, gorgeous, fantastic and any other divine adjective you could think of. I mean, for a while I was like, forget the show, I'm totally into the theater. It was built in the 1920's, and hosted the Oscars for over a decade.

Here are a few pictures:







Anyhoo, the show itself was also fabulous, and I was so glad that I got a chance to see it, as tickets are a hot commodity and they were provided to us for free! You can't get any better than that!

When I was trying to figure out what to wear to this event, which included dinner beforehand with two other couples, I kept leaning toward skirts and possibly heels. Then, I sharply smacked my forehead with the palm of my hand. Which stung a little, really. But what was I thinking? I live in LA, for god's sake, and hardly anyone dresses up. To go anywhere.

It used to be that even going to the movies (I'm talking way back here, folks) was a big event, and people got all gussied up. Now, you can't even get people to dress up for funerals or weddings. I have seen people attend funerals in clothes they look like they would normally wear to paint their kitchen. I'm not kidding.

I opted for an expensive pair of navy cropped pants, a white linen peasant blouse and white slingbacks. I fit right in. In fact, I looked positively formal compared to the chick in a grey sweatshirt-material dress with diagonal stripes and flip-flops. Even better was the lady in a purple velvet dress and heels, whose date had on a regular blue tee and old jeans.

People, people. At least have the decency to coordinate yourselves. Even if it means you both have matching levels of shabbiness.

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