Datebook: Monday, June 25th ~ 2007

Editor's Note: Due to technical issues, Mombo #9's blog was posted on Tuesday, June 26th instead of it's usual Monday postings. Coming in July, Mombo will increase her blog postings to Mondays & Thursdays.

My daughter and I just returned from our annual pilgrimage to New York City.

The part of me that wishes I had nurtured the love of architecture and the knowledge of the 12 kinds of vegetable squash in my children would love to say that we wandered the streets noting the granite cornices and unique columns of century old buildings. I would love to say we ferried out and saluted our most grand gift from France, the noble Lady of Liberty.

But, alas, we did not.

Instead, we journeyed, seemingly as in Oz, to visit the wizard.

The wizard in this case, is the fabulous Tania Bass.

Let me clarify a bit here-- we have had fabulous costumes designed and crafted in the past by masters in the field. Our crystal count last year alone had me x-rayed, scanned, puffed, and sniffed at every domestic airport through which we traveled. But the yellow brick costume road has never led us to doors as golden as those of Ms. Bass.

In February, my daughter asked if she could have one dress made by the New York magician. I probably paled a bit, but with the new highlights in my hair it probably wasn’t that noticeable. One dress I thought. How expensive can that be?

“I want her to make a waltz dress. I want it to be special” my daughter explained.

“A waltz dress,” I pondered. Good choice, I decided. If she had asked for a Free Dance (rock) or OD (please…I still can’t go there) she would probably get limited wear. A waltz dress will certainly be something she can wear again, like perhaps when she gets married. A waltz dress is all about flow and has a certain cut of the back--all the elements required for a wedding dress.

“That’s a good idea. Maybe you should get white this year.”

“White? I don’t think so. The coaches want me to get a dress that when I step on the ice, all the judges think ‘Wow, she is exquisite, she could be skating senior’”.

“Really…that sounds like an expensive feature; maybe we could just get more beading.”

We took the train into the city and walked to Tania’s 36th Street design studio, tugging Samsonite and Vera Bradley duffle bags.

If I only had the words to describe the salon—it is the Willy Wonka Chocolate World transformed to fashion wonderland. There were millions of beckoning crystals, a thousand bolts of tantalizing fabrics, miles of embellished trims, and costumes and pictures adorning every wall.

It is a magical place where magical things happen.

Ms. Bass looked at my daughter and asked her what color she was thinking of—(I had stopped thinking green the color or cash in my wallet and moved on to blue the color of checks in my wallet).

“I was thinking of gold this year—a beautiful rich gold.”

Tania smiled and looked at my daughter as if she had answered the secret riddle and went behind the counter and from some hidden recess produced a bolt of fabric the color of an iridescent sun as it sets on a Gulf coast. She then draped an inch wide piece of trim across the front and talked of beading patterns that shifted in the arena lights.

After the measurements, Tania sat on a small stool and took out a plain book and in five minutes sketched a dress so exquisite even Leonardo DaVinci would have marveled at its proportional perfection.

Like with any great work of art, before I left, I didn’t even mind writing a deposit check that was slightly more than my mortgage payment. We may have skipped to the hotel on 45th Street because people did move over as if we looked like we were from out of town.

The remainder of the weekend was not at good as meeting the wizard—we did go to a comedy club and were made part of the show in our front row seats, we did go to see “Wicked” but my daughter was more impressed that Eva Longoria and Tony Parker sat in front of us.

“They’re getting married in two weeks! Can you believe they are out on a date like regular people?”

“Umh.” I murmured absently.

“Don’t you just love her white dress? It’s so simple—but stunning on her. I think people look best when they stick to classic, simple lines, don’t you.”

I sat for a moment thinking there were flying monkeys in that scene as well, but I merely took a deep breath and answered her as best as I could.

“You’re probably right, sweetie. Do you think they’ll let me bring a drink from the bar back to my seat after intermission?”

Mombo