What not to wear when playing

Kanako Ito is the concertmistress of the Kansas City Symphony. Last night I tried to sign her up for the TV show, What Not to Wear. However, after entering my birth date, the site told me I was too young to submit an entry. I may not be old enough to be dining at 5:30 p.m. yet, but I'm definitely old enough for that site. Maybe not smart enough though to figure out what the hell was going on with it. At any rate, at the concert this weekend it occurred to me that someone new to the symphony would have thought that that last violinist wandering onto the stage was just probably some college student wearing some frumpy black slacks and a tight-ish long-sleeve velour top that she probably picked up at TJ Maxx. And I don't even know what to say about her hair. Except that it might be good to schedule a nice trim and style more than twice a year.

Okay, okay, okay. Men have it easy for concerts. Either it's the tux with black tie or the tails and white tie. Done. The poor women. Some wear dresses. Some wear slacks. Some wear jackets. Some wear simple blouses. Some sparkle. Some are drab – even for black. Actually I seriously thought it would be interesting if all the women in the symphony were given a group makeover. I've never seen that on cable TV.

I know Kanako Ito is probably a darling woman committed to her music. And I honestly say all this with love and respect. (And a teeny, itsy bit of cattiness.) And maybe, just maybe, she thought just a little about what she was going to wear and what to do with her hair. And I'm sure the same goes more or less for the others. But when you sit in a concert hall listening to Mahler for an hour and a half, you tend to have a fair amount of time to look at the people on stage. Don't tell me you haven't scanned the stage to see who's doing what, wearing what, and stressing about the next bit of music. So give me some glitz. We all paid lots of money for our tickets. And you, dear Kanako, you sit right there at the front of the stage. You're as close to the audience as anyone. You're the one Michael Stern always shakes hands with. The soloists always shake your hand. You are in the spot light. You've got the talent. Now bring on the bling. And if you're not sure how to go about it, I bet there are a few salons and boutiques that'd be happy to help you out in exchange for a little credit in the program.

"Hair and makeup by _____ Salon and Spa. Wardrobe by ______."

News anchors do it. You deserve it. Surely someone on that symphony board knows someone. Well, someone chic maybe. Maybe. Anyway, treat yourself. Treat us. Remember, we sit in the dark. You're the one on stage.