MONTREAL -- The overheated acrobat in the sleek, custom-designed silk coat was about to race on stage. Before she did, she stood in front of a giant, spinning fan to cool off. Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzip! The fan ate the $2,000 coat without so much as a belch.
Whadaya gonna do? This is a job for Costume Man.
That's Yves Fournier, director of the costume shop at Cirque du Soleil, the Canadian circus of acrobats. He oversees one of the world's most elaborate costume factories. His job is to predict costume crises early.
''Costumes make the show,'' says Fournier, 42, who has been a costume designer for 20 years, including the past 10 years with Cirque du Soleil (pronounced sirk du solay). ''Our computer data base keeps exact measurements on every single performer right down to their, well, to everything.''
Like never before, the clothing worn by celebrities matters. Sunday night, all eyes were on which actress wore whose pricey designer gown during the Academy Awards.
Likewise, during Cirque's new water show at posh Bellagio Hotel in Las Vegas, all eyes are on the $2.5 million worth of costumes that Fournier had designed for the show.
The importance of the look and originality of what entertainers wear
has evolved into its own circus act. Cirque itself is trying to evolve
from a little-known circus without animals into an international megabrand.
And playing off consumer interest in its costumes, it has licensed all sorts of Cirque du Soleil clothing, including $44 girls' swimsuits and $95 bathrobes.
''Clothing tells the story of how people perceive themselves,'' says Karen Schaeffer, apparel design professor at the University of Delaware. ''It distinguishes celebrities from everyone else.''
Elaborately artsy costumes distinguish Cirque from any other circus. That's one reason each performer travels with at least three, and sometimes five, costumes. When emergencies arise -- giant fans shredding costumes into scraps or small tears becoming large rips way up on the high trapeze -- there are backups for the backups.
None of this comes cheaply. The typical Cirque costume costs $3,000, Fournier says. All of Cirque's costumes are made at Cirque du Soleil's headquarters in Montreal. Most are cut from the 5,000 yards of white Lycra that Fournier orders each year. Costumes are hand-dyed and hand-sewn by 170 costume shop workers. The most elaborate designs, with lots of rhinestones, can cost $18,000.
Just as important as design is durability. Because Lycra is made of 90% rubber and 10% nylon, it stretches with the circus performers.
''When you're 60 feet off the ground wearing leotards and a mask, you don't want to worry about safety pins,'' Fournier says. He won't permit any performer to go onstage wearing a safety pin. ''Better to be embarrassed than injured,'' he says.
The costumes don't last long. Because of the physical beatings they receive during performances, they rarely last more than three or four weeks, Fournier estimates.
Each performer is measured head-to-toe every four months or so. The measurements are especially critical for the 12-to-15-year-old female performers whose ''bodies can change overnight,'' he says.
On site, Cirque also hand-makes several sets of shoes, masks and even wigs for each performer.
Then, there's the Head Shop.
That's not where performers go for drug paraphernalia. It's where they go to get their heads examined. Literally.
Cirque's acrobats often wear elaborate masks during the shows. But the masks must fit perfectly and not bounce around during dangerous stunts.
So, in their contracts, performers all must agree to have plaster- like casts made of their heads. That requires a 2-hour session where each acrobat must sit perfectly still.
The acrobat's head is covered in a special material that molds into a duplicate of the head and face.
When performers are on the road, masks for future shows can be made right off these busts. Hundreds of the ghoulish heads peer down menacingly at visitors who walk through Cirque's costume shop.
Fournier offers another reason a few of those heads-without-bodies might come in handy some day.
''If somebody breaks their nose during a performance,'' he says, matter- of-factly, ''a plastic surgeon would be able to see exactly what their nose used to look like.''
From USA TODAY, "Talk about a fashion circus: Cirque du Soleil obsession makes Oscar night seem low key." [date unknown].