Between the raindrops ☂

The making of a musical, from a costume assistant's perspective

Apr 27, 2025

I work as costume assistant at a theatre. For each production of a play, an opera, or a musical, a new team of guest directors and designers are invited into the house, including a costume designer. My job is to assist them while costumes are being made to measure by our seamstresses, to rummage the costume storage for pieces that might match the designer’s vision, to provide rehearsal costumes for the performers, buy materials, make lists, and everything in between.

It’s especially those in-between things that I want to highlight with a few snapshots from our production of Singin’ in the Rain that premiered in march. The things no one outside a theatre would even think of as something someone has to do – like daily visits at the shoemaker’s. Sewing microphone sausage socks. Spraying dresses with anti-static, anti-whipped-cream or anti-slip spray. Also, protecting the double basses from artificial rainfall.

“Moses supposes his toeses are roses, but Moses supposes erroneously.”

The sheer amount

This photo was taken one month pre rehearsal beginning. It shows around 1/3 of the ca. 130 costumes that ended up on the show. Needless to say, our department was quite stuffed for some time.

Ikea bags

Ikea bags are worshipped in any costume department. There are always plenty, but never enough. We transport everything in them, be it laundry, numberless pairs of tap shoes, or entire wardrobes. They are large, wearable, and sturdy; they never tear. Some get lost and disappear forever. If you discover an empty one, you’d be wise to stash it somewhere secret. Ikea bags are almost a status symbol in these parts.

Whipped cream fuss

A good cake-in-the-face has to be rehearsed. For our filmstar diva Lina Lamont’s comfort, we wanted to provide real whipped cream, but sadly, her dress couldn’t take it – whipped cream would rot in the ruffles, and the fabric cannot be sprayed with fatproofing spray. We had to go with shaving cream.

Trimmings and details

Some of my favourite costumes on the show were a collection of women’s trench coats which our seamstresses adorned with wide trimmings in pastel colours on the hem, the collar, and the sleeves. All buttons were replaced by colour-matching ones. The coats, trim fabric and buttons were all from our costume stock, nothing had to be bought. They were made for the choir ladies playing a group of journalists, and each singer got her own colour theme. I love how simple it is to create a coherent look for a group of people on stage.

Vodka haze

Did you know you can spray slightly stinky clothes with vodka, and the smell will be gone the next day? Vodka in spray bottles is a beloved theatre staple. After a 12-hour-day of filming (because yes, to the chagrin of many, theatre is slowly turning into cinema these days), you will not catch me washing a Rokoko gown. A few pshitts and the dress is ready to be worn again. For more persistent smells on unwashable costumes, we have the feared and dreaded o z o n e c a b i n e t , a wardrobe that neutralizes bacteria with artificial lightings. No one really understands how it works, and it leaves a strong chemical smell on the clothes that lasts at least a few weeks. We avoid it all costs.

the heaviest costume on the show, with four hip cushions and a cloud of tulle.

Coke floors

Prepping the stage and the shoes for a tap musical is no easy thing. Tap shoes must be adjusted to the choreographies AND the dancers’ preferences, they must be maintained (screwdriver and sandpaper always at hand), and equipped with snap buttons for the quick changes. Solo dancers get their feet microphoned: they wear custom-made socks with a hole at the ankle, allowing a thin microphone cable to pass through into a mesh tube (the microphone sausage), which captures and amplifies the sound of their shoes. Additionally, the floor must be covered with special hard wood planks to ensure a good tapping sound – and occasionally in rain-collecting foil on top of all that. This setup unfortunately causes slipping troubles, and the solution is coke: dilute 1L of coca cola with 10L of water and mop the floor with the mixture. The result: happy tappers and a perfectly sticky stage.

Last-minute repairs and embellishments

What do you do in the nerve-wrecking last few hours before the premiere, when everything is ready and there’s finally time to rest? You mend holes in the lace of giant Art Deco headpieces. And when that is done, you add little details that nobody will notice except yourself, just to occupy your hands, and to savour the long and finished production process for just a little while longer.