Wednesday, March 16, 2011

Old Navy Casting or Run, Baby, Run.

Old Navy Casting.
Wearing Alexander McQueen dress, Alexander McQueen scarf, and Salvadore Ferragamo sandals.
The socks are wool, and optional.

Role Description: Lead female performer 20's--very indie rock with upbeat flair and driving summer beats. We will have a male and female singing a duet; the vibe is light, upbeat and summery. Talent will be lip synching during auditions.

Wardrobe: hip and summer cool. Shorts, rompers, and summer dresses.

It's an amazing day in Hollywood. What else is there to do other than go to this casting? You can always get the big commercial to pay the bills for a year (or forever). For a day of work. Wouldn't that be nice?

Casting Director
Slate you name, height and profile.
Me
Ok. Diana, 5 feet 7 1/2 inches.
CD
You will be paired with a guy and you will be the singing and dancing couple. Think Glee. Think Broadway.
Me ( thinking to myself)
I want to leave. I want to leave now.
CD
This is your partner. Go rehearse outside.
Me ( thinking to myself)
I want to leave. I want to leave. I don't sing and dance. Why I am here? This is Old Navy. I don't even wear Old Navy. Old Navy is so unfashionable; I am wearing Alexander McQueen. Why am I wearing McQueen again? Do I own anything Old Navy? Poor Alexander, he shouldn't have killed himself.
Guy
I am your partner. Let's rehearse.
Me
Ok.

We go outside on Sunset Boulevard. He had the song on his iPhone. He knows the lyrics. This is weird. The song is called "Barbecutie". I wonder how much time the ad agency put into this one. I forgot the lyrics, but it's about rompers and dresses and style and shorts. 
I should leave. No, I will stay and embarrass myself and then blog about it.  How hard can it be? You have to lip synch, right? I can't even tell when people are lip synching. They can say whatever, right?


Now, we're inside the room. The music starts. I lip synch. I don't know the lyrics. It's odd. The chair is spinning. The guy spins my chair. We sit up. We continue the lip synch. I think I lip synch his part too. This is weird. We are happy. It is Glee; it's Broadway. 

And Cut.

The next singing couple is entering.
We leave, oddly dressed, to our cars. 



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