Every time my cell phone made a sound this week I hoped it was an email, or call or a sms from my director. Every time I felt the vibration in my pocket, or heard my cell phone I rang I hoped I would be receiving the confirmation that I will be leaving for Cape Town next week. My hopes were ignited when I received a phone call eatly Monday morning from my agent’s wife. I didn’t recognize the number on my screen as my cell rang, so I answered slightly apprehensively. She told me that she couldn’t confirm anything, but that the wardrobe department wanted my sizes. I told her the sizesI knew, and asked if she wanted anything more specific? It's really hard giving people sizes, because they tend to be different from store to store. I tend be one size in Woolies, and a larger size in Mr Price (which is rather bad for my self esteem!). She said she would email me if there was anything else. The next day I received another email. They were rather specific in the measurements that they wanted from me: My hate size, my glove size, my inseam, my waist, my sleeve, my suite size, my neck, my height and my weight.
I panicked. I do not own a measuring tape, and who knows what sizes and hat gloves work in. And don’t think my inseam has ever been measured. My friend decided that I would be measured with a piece of string and a ruler. We asked around and found a colleague with a ruler. Now we were left with the conundrum of finding a piece of string that would be long enough to go around my waist. And something that didn’t stretch so that my measurements would be accurate. My friend and I stopped the telephone cord lying across the office floor. “Isn’t there a spare telephone cord around here somewhere?”
I had found the said cord while cleaning out the cupboard of the lecturer whose position I would temporarily be filling in for while she was on leave. I fished it out of a box of odds and ends, and we started the process. After measuring my waist we were slightly stumped. I googled: “How to measure glove sizes”. Google quickly provided me with a site, complete with a table and diagram, showing me how to measure my hands across the knuckle, and which size corresponded to the circumference of your knuckles. My 15cm knuckles meant I was a size Small. Then we did the hat size. “How to measure hat size”. I was again provided with instruction, around the head, three quarters of an inch above the ear. I still do not know how much an inch is, as I grew up using the metric system. I used the converter on my cell phone to figure out roughly how many centimetres that would be. My friend measure my head, we looked up the appropriate size on the table, and we documented it (I am still not sure exactly how hat sizes work). This system of google and measure was used to measure my neck, inseam and sleeve as well. The sleeve was interesting, due to the email not exactly being specific as to what part of the sleeve they needed, so with thanks to google we measured from the middle of my back to my shoulder, my shoulder to my wrist and around my shoulder its self. I filled in my height, and my…uhm… weight. Let’s be honest, all of us ladies type in what we hope to be by the specific date, not what we are at the moment.
The very specific email was sent off. My measurements as accurate as a telephone cord and a ruler could do it. My agent was quite sure I’d get the job. Now I’m praying I’ll get the call!