Dress up brings Queensland pint-sized phantom to London’s West End
PARENTS with quirky kids often get requests for experiences that are out of the ordinary for their age group.
We spent four nights in London during a three week stay in the United Kingdom a few weeks ago.
The itinerary included Andrew Lloyd Webber’s The Phantom of the Opera at London City’s West End.
But it wasn’t myself or my husband who had Phantom on our bucket list, rather it was our 10-year-old who was eager to go.
Her love for opera began a few months prior when she heard the song, The Phantom of the Opera.
She was hooked and learned the words by heart.
As her school’s Book Week neared she discovered ‘The Phantom of the Opera’ was a book as well as a stage show.
She was excited and decided she’d dress up as the phantom.
We ordered a mini phantom costume online, but it didn’t arrive in time for the parade.
I made a plan, and she wore her father’s black jacket, and I bought a white mask, cut in half then used white duct tape to hold it in place.
Book Week costumes are the bane of existence for parents the world over.
To be honest, I didn’t think the mask looked good, but she loved it and so used it for the parade.
The online order arrived a few days before we left for our UK holiday.
The outfit was packed into her suitcase and because we had a plan!
We packed both masks, the duct tape one and the ordered one.
She preferred the homemade version but what can you do … I wasn’t the one wearing it.
The show was a matinee performance, and her getup was inside a backpack until it was time to be at Her Majesty’s Theatre.
On went the costume and voila … a mini phantom emerged.
Then came the quiet concern she’d lose interest halfway through the stage show when she realised it was more singing than dialogue.
It is the kind of worry parents feel that happens parallel to joyful anticipation.
I was looking forward to seeing her face light up and watching the other audience members gasp when they saw her dressed up.
But then again, I was equally worried she’s lose interest and want to leave halfway through.
I needn’t have worried, we had balcony seats and she sat at the railing, leaning over it with a big grin on her face.
Afterwards people asked us if they could take a photograph with her.
We decided to wait outside the backstage door used by the cast to exit after a performance.
They spotted her almost immediately, the actors spoke to her and posed for photographs.
Being a parent means experiencing unselfish love where your joy comes from their happiness.
One day my little phantom will be a grown woman and I hope she remembers her first experience of theatre.
That it was the Phantom and on London’s East End made it extra special.
If she doesn’t, that’s okay too because I found equal joy and delight watching her experience it.
