Crisis Averted!

Rokedet is going to be fine.

She had some loose beads on one of the big lovely beaded panels, and I had a momentary freakout.

The thing about writers and artists (of which I am both) is that they can be incredibly dramatic freaky-outy Shakespearean-level tragedians about relatively minor setbacks.

The thing about costumers (of which I am one) is that they tend to roll with stuff pretty well.

The thing about me is, as both, I am continually torn between two tigers, one that is all "OH MY GOD WHAT ARE WE GONNA DO!" and "EVERYBODY CHILL THE FUCK OUT ALREADY AND GET A NEEDLE."

If you read the last post, guess who won.  Yeah. Awesome.

Rokedet and I have a very close relationship, I suppose.  I put her on and I feel like everything's going to be okay, because she will tell me if things are weird. If I have no power in a shimmy or pivot bump, she'll say so. If I'm moving too much during a body wave or torso twist, she'll let me know. She might be the whole fairytale of the "Magic Shoes," but it WORKS, at least for my confidence. So, when I saw some beading coming loose, I pooped a little.

It was Artax dying in the Swamps of Sadness. It was Frodo being unable to continue on the quest to destroy the One Ring. It was Snape killing Dumbledore. Anakin Skywalker screaming "NOOOOOOOOOOOOO" and succumbing to Darth Vader when Padme died. Okay, bad example. Bane breaking Batman's back? Mordin Solus sacrificing himself to stop the krogan genophage? Sephiroth killing Aeris? Captain America plunging into Arctic ice?  Loki "dying" at the hands of the Kursed?

Rokedet would only grow weaker, lose more of herself, as I grew stronger. She had a death sentence, and it was only a matter of time.  The hero of the tale would someday be alone.

Maybe someday, but that day was not to be today.

After I wound myself up into a frenzy a little bit more, I found some Coats Extra Strong thread and a needle, and I set to work.  I have never repaired beadwork before in my life, but goddamnit, I was going to.  So, I went back to the source of the fray, and anchored the thread, stitching Rokedet up as best as possible. I tested it a little, to make sure it would hold, and then immediately returned her to her place of honor. Now I can rest easy, knowing that Artax would reunite with Atreyu, that Samwise would carry Frodo to his destination, Snape would turn out to be the hero of the piece, Batman would rise again, "Mordin" would be remembered as the hero of Tuchanka, Aeris returned to the lifestream, Cap fished out of the ice, Loki faked his death. Rokedet and I are going to be fine.

....

...for now.

Look at my belt, my belt is amazing!

I've been dancing in a "hip scarf" (i.e. whatever scarf I found that fit around my hips) since I started dancing. Sometimes it was one of those inexpensive coin deals that are a dollar on eBay, that no Halloween belly dancer goes without. Sometimes it was what I found on the floor. You know, whatever.

Then the incomparable Grace told us about Tribal Bazaar's going out of business sale. I'm not going to lie, I plotzed. I'm pretty sure my adorable recovering-Catholic gent even said, "why are you plotzing so much?"

I had just coveted so many pieces on that site. I had even crunched the numbers and figured out how many jobs I'd need to have a complete dance wardrobe (about five, two full time). And now, here it was... Infinitely more affordable!

I went easy, and only snapped up a coin bra and that gorgeous belt. I'd tried for a choli too, but those were out of stock. 

I danced with my belt for the first time last night. And it was glorious. She fit me comfortably, like my hips had grown in for just this purpose. And then I shimmied, taksim-ed, and pivot bumped, and for the first time, I got literally instant feedback on my dancing. My teacher is excellent, but to have someone snuggled up around your body, jingling softly when you shimmy, tapping along as you pivot bump, drawing a hard bright line where your hips should rotate... I felt awesome.

Of course, she's not just a good friend. I couldn't get a full pic, but she's amazing. Shisha mirrors, embroidery, beadwork, and (not pictured) antique kuchi pendants... My belt is a rich tapestry. She's a piece of art, not just a piece to keep the pants on.

Clothes do not make the man. But any drag queen can tell you... Sometimes you just need the right accessories!