When “Allergic to Everything” Goes Off-Script

You’d think joining a small-town play would be the least risky thing I’ve done lately. I mean, what could possibly go wrong? Lines, lights, laughter—it all sounded delightfully safe. Until, of course, wardrobe got involved.

My character—let’s call her Dazzle McDrama—wears a gaudy fake gold necklace that screams community theater glamour and a curly synthetic wig that could double as insulation. Both, apparently, are essential to the character. Both, apparently, are also essential to my slow demise.

At first, it was just an itch on my neck during rehearsals. I ignored it. I’m used to discomfort—it’s practically my brand. But by the third run-through, the itch turned into a burn. After rehearsal, I asked my husband to dab on some cortisone cream. His reaction was… dramatic.

“Uh, you need to see this.”

He fetched a mirror, and there it was: a perfect little necklace-shaped constellation of blisters marching across the back of my neck.

Turns out, fake gold and I are not meant to share the stage. The next day, I swapped the costume jewelry for a real gold chain—because apparently, my skin knows the difference between solid gold and $4.99 on clearance.

A castmate kindly asked, “Oh no, do you have sensitive skin?”
I shrugged. “Didn’t think so. But I guess I don’t just eat air anymore—now I have to wear it too.”