by When I first landed the role of Beca in Pitch Perfect, I was thrilled. A musical comedy set in the competitive world of a cappella singing groups? It sounded like my dream project. But there was one aspect of the film that gave me pause – the costume design.
My character was envisioned as an edgy, alternative college student. In the script, she had piercings, ripped jeans, and plenty of plaid. It was a far cry from my own personal style, which tends to be a bit more classic and refined. Did I really want to spend months dressed like an extra in a grunge band video?
I decided to take a risk and push back on the costumes. If I was going to inhabit Beca for the length of a film shoot, I wanted to feel like the most authentic version of myself in her thrift-store-styled garb. I wanted to bring something of my own fashion sensibility to the role.
When I hesitantly brought up the idea to the costume designer, I was relieved that she was receptive. She agreed to tone down some of the more extreme fashion choices. For me, it was a small act of rebellion – going against the expected “image” for my character and infusing the costumes with hints of my own taste.
The modified Beca wardrobe still had edge, with dark colors, studs, and skulls. But mixed in were staples from my own closet, like blazers, boots, and scarves. I even got to wear my own favorite plaid shirt for several key scenes! The juxtaposition of punk and prep worked perfectly. I felt comfortable and confident, and I think it allowed me to fully immerse myself in Beca’s world.
Of course, the Bella uniforms were non-negotiable. Though the blue and yellow flight attendant-style outfits were aggressively nerdy, I kind of loved them for their bold commitment to all things a cappella. However, the discomfort I felt in those polyester uniforms may have contributed to Beca’s disdain for the Bellas’ outdated performance style.
When it came time to film the climax sequence, the iconic finale performance, I was thrilled with the edgy costumes designed for each girl. They allowed us to channel the diverse styles and personalities of our characters. I felt like a rockstar in my black leather and spikes!
Since Pitch Perfect became a sleeper hit, Beca’s fashion choices have become iconic and oft-imitated by fans. I even find myself channeling her style in my own wardrobe now, pairing a trusty plaid shirt with skinny jeans and boots for an effortlessly cool look.
While I’m proud I pushed back on Beca’s initially extreme wardrobe, I came to appreciate the role costume design played in Pitch Perfect. The clothes helped define each character and visualise the tensions between tradition and modernity, conformity and rebellion, playing it safe and taking risks.
In the end, my minor fashion rebellion accomplished what I had hoped. I felt fully immersed in Beca’s world, comfortable enough to deliver an authentic performance. The key was balance – striving for my own style sensibility within the framework of my character’s esthetic and story arc.
Pitch Perfect taught me the power of clothing to shape a role and convey deeper themes. An edgy style can signal rebellion, while a uniform restricts individuality. Small acts of fashion defiance can reclaim autonomy. By advocating for costumes I could both relate to and hide behind, I found the confidence to fully become Beca. Her wardrobe shaped my performance and growth as an actor.
For my next project, I again aim to strike that balance between character and self. Fashion in film is ephemeral, but choice of wardrobe allows an actor to leave their mark. I had the chance to rebel on Pitch Perfect, and found my voice in the process. There is power in plaid.
