I saw a kilt in a shop, this morning. It was on sale at £50 and I figured I'd go in and buy it. I had just enough spare cash and it was in a Farquharson tartan (which isn't all that common) so it seemed ideal. The plan was that I'd wear it for this afternoon's art class and then keep it for all future classes.
Unfortunately, that plan collapsed as soon as I took a closer look. It was a lighter fabric and didn't have the same belt kind of setup at the waist that I would have anticipated. It was a woman's kilt. So just not appropriate at all.
I got to the Standard in plenty of time, as usual. The same old paranoia and the same old fears of lateness kicked in, so when I had finished setting up, I was - as usual - still an hour ahead of schedule. I looked forward to my tutor arriving, so I could at least talk to someone and have a distraction. My usual tutor - Alison - is in Morocco right now, but she had arranged for a friend - Louise - to stand in for her.
Some of the girls arrived nearly half an hour early, so I talked to the organiser about how we would start the class. The bride didn't know what was happening, so we had one of those surprise classes - my favourite type. We agreed that we would go for the typical ploy - the tutor would make it look like a boring art class, pretend to have forgotten the props, go looking for something to stand in for them, "discover" me and bring me in.
Unfortunately, Louise didn't turn up. As time ran down, I started sweating and checking my 'phone for messages, but nothing. No tutor and no 'phone calls. And then it was 1PM and the girls were coming back down the stairs and I had to admit that our fancy introduction plans had been shelved.
It occurred to me that Louise might simply be running a little late, but I didn't want to keep the girls waiting, because I had no idea what kind of schedule they might be running to, so we got started. I went through a couple of basic "warm-up" poses, then started delivering the challenges. Draw with a straight line. Take a chunky bit of charcoal and draw "angry". I did my favourite challenge - four groups of three and each group draw the full body between them.
And I did the challenge that was established in the last art class...
Two volunteers are called for. One is a model and one is a co-ordinator. Co-ordinator sets up a pose for the model and I. And after that - the roles are reversed, so the first model gets to take her revenge on the co-ordinator of the pose was excessively cruel.
And throughout it all... no tutor, no texts and no 'phone calls. I delivered the class on my own. I always feel a little clumsy and a little less confident when this happens, so I always feel bad for the girls who have booked me. But I think (I hope) they still enjoyed themselves and I think (I hope) I did a good job of both modelling and presenting the class.
I asked the event organiser if they had a schedule they needed to stick to, then gave the girls a little longer than usual, in the very vague hope that my tutor might have got the time wrong and might turn up at 2PM - and so at least be present for part of the class. It didn't work, though, and in the end, the organiser told me they had to wind it up so they could meet someone back at their apartments.
I went through my usual routine of picking out a favourite picture and passed round the feedback book. The comments were complimentary, as usual. One girl wrote that I had "massive balls". They do tend to look a bit bigger when I've been recently waxed, but I have a feeling she was talking metaphorically.
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