The Rockettes' Gorgeously Tarnished Glamour

In the afterglow of spying Bill Cunningham, my daughter and I headed over to Radio City, where she danced for some four hours with the Rockettes Experience (13th-birthday gift).

As we climbed the internal stage-door stairs en route to the large rehearsal hall, a rolling rack with some costumes caught my eye.  They were strappy, peachy-flesh colored, and bedazzled with glitz. 

They were a little bedraggled too, which was part of their appeal: I thought of Sally Bowles flinging one on, ripped fishnets on legs, cigarette in hand.

I'm calling it tarnished glamour.

Do you like your glamour sparkly or with a bit of romantic grime?