What I Learned From Improvising a Number

Recently I was dancing in a non-burlesque capacity for a talent show when one of the acts didn't show up. I was asked to perform a number. Since I didn't have any burlesque accoutrements or music with me I had to make everything up. Here's what I learned:

• Always keep an emergency burlesque kit in the car for improvisation opportunities. At a minimum, it should contain a matching bra and panties, and pasties with coordinating matching boa and gloves, and a pair of heels, red lipstick and eyelashes.
• Only a true friend will loan you pasties. 
• Choose a song you know very well so you can exploit the beats and unexpected accents. Those will make your routine seem more put-together.
• No matter how cute you think it is, patting yourself on the head is just not sexy.
• Know that your boa’s red dye is set. Otherwise you could end up with pink shoulders, face, hands…
• If this is the first time your mother is seeing you strip in front of an audience, DO NOT make eye contact. You will completely lose your mojo.
• Don’t worry about doing backflips. Connect with your audience. Flirt with them. They don’t care if you can do the splits; they care that you’re happy to see them (in the Mae West sense).
• Let go of your inhibitions. This is a great time to try a new move. If it doesn’t work, smile, wink and take something off.

Windy City Burlesque Fest Opening Night Party

Oh my! If you weren't at Lincoln Tap Room on Thursday for the WCBF Opening Night Party, you missed some amazing burlesque. Please administer to yourself the appropriate punishment. I'll wait.

Welcome back. Many of the performers were from the Chicago area and I can't think of a better way to kick off the fest than having the locals greet the out-of-towners by dropping their pants and revealing glittery, sexy undies. Red Rum and Special K brought the macabre and odd. Saucy Jack's cool goofball in "The Jack" hit the right blend of comedy and sexy. Josephine Shaker was sensually elegant in jewels and a tux. Cruel Valentine blew our minds, mixing singing with the splits. And Lucy Flawless made us all quiver in our boots and other places as a legal queen of pain. One of the non-locals who made an appearance, Miss Alyssa Kitt, absolutely made me lose my shit with her classic routine, amazing ostrich feather headpiece and truly excellent tassel twirling.

After all of that, I was starving. Burlesque has this weird arc: Tension until performance, elation during and for awhile after, then the urge to have a sandwich and go to sleep. Sounds a lot like sex, doesn't it? In any case, it was time for a turkey burger at the Golden Apple, then some well-earned sleep and rhinestone-studded dreams. It's a tough life, but it's mine.