Auditions For Julliard
...on my hair. My make-up had to be bright. It was called stage make-up, which from up close would look like a well put together clown. The blush on my cheeks had to be so rosy that you could see them from the very back of the auditorium. My eye-lids were full of heavy glitter and dark eyeliner and the lipstick so bright you'd swear it was paint. Fake eyelashes were the finishing touch to make my face complete. My hair, having to coordinate with my outfit, was pulled back on both sides of my head and made into two messy looking pigtails. All you could smell in the air were hair spray fumes. My hair had to be plastered with hair spray so it wouldn't mess up while I was dancing. It was so stiff that my hair would probably stay the same for two weeks. On top of that came the spray glitter. This was the last thing that went on my hair. All the make-up and all the hair is made up into a big deal, but not as big as the outfit. Your outfit is what the judges see first, it's their first impression before you even start dancing. My torn Jean dancing kapris and my multi-colored shimmering top made me look the part of my hip-hop performance. It is what made me stand out among all the other girls with bland looking outfits that had no attitude what so ever. Hip-hop is supposed to be fun and funky not bland and boring. It was almost time. I was two numbers away from being called. I sat stretching in the middle of the hall waiting patiently just like the other girls were when I arrived. My number was called. I stood up and handed my music to the lady in charge. "Please follow me," she said. I followed her into a hallway that led to black curtains. It was very quiet has I got further down the hall and the chatter of the other girls faded away. My heart began to race and my blood pressure began to rise. It was time for me to perform. The curtains opened and I stepped onto the stage. The lights were so bright I could barely see anything or anyone in the audience below. There wasn't much of an audie...