Last week my friend Jessi was visiting from Canada. So, being the good host that I am, I of course forced her to come along on my Burlesque Costume Excursions. Deep into Outer South East we ventured, making our way to the elusive Joann's Fabrics. I had crafted a set of pasties and I needed to cover them with some pretty fabric. I found some I liked and proceeded to get in the line for fabric cutting. When my number was called I handed my fabric to a 50ish man with a ponytail. Out of all the little old ladies cutting fabric, he was the only man. I only actually needed about six inches worth of fabric, but figured a yard would give me room to make a few prototypes. And you never know when some extra fabric will come in handy in a costume. Just one yard of fabric and then I was out the door. But no, I had to get the nosy guy.
Me: One yard please.
Him: Just one yard? What are you making?
What went through my head at this point went something like this: What did he say? Did he just ask what I was making? Why? Crap. I can't say "pasties". Uhh. Uhhh. Say something! Anything!
Jessi told me later that I looked like a deer in the headlights. I could see her out of the corner of my eye, making frantic "hurry up" gestures. Now normally I'm pretty quick on the draw. A witty comment, a lie, something should have rolled right off my tongue. Not this time, however. This time, what came out of my mouth was....."A hat?"
FAIL!!! Wow, that was lame. What was even better was, according to Jessi, I also made the accompanying "i don't know" shrug. So clearly, I was lying. And badly. As we exited the store, the hilarity of that exchange hit us. Doubled over with laughter, all we can say is "A HAT!" Really, a hat? That's the best I could do? Of course a list of more probable, or a least, funnier ideas came to mind almost instantly.
1. A jaunty cape for my cat, Mr. Oliver Angus McWhiskers.
2. A satin tea cozy.
3. A replica of Scarlett's green dress from Gone With the Wind...for Barbie.
4. None of your fucking business, that's what.
Yeah, that would have been great....
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
Thursday, April 8, 2010
The Pastie Files
I can't believe tonight is the final night of class. It's down to the (under)wire now people. Tonight we present our ideas for our routines. Music, dance, costume-whatever we have in the works. I feel ready to get my ideas out there. I've got my music picked out and a rough estimate of how my routine is gonna go. Entrance....no idea....take off gloves.....no idea........take off skirt.....no idea.....take off corset.....no idea....BIG FINISH! Maybe I should insert jazz hands in there somewhere. Or not.
I have some of my costume done, but the majority still needs work. I do have a really cool corset though. It makes my waist super tiny. Or course that's after someone exerts about 1,000 lbs of pressure on the lacings! Suck it in! (foot up on the back) Pull! I bought if off of ebay of all places, cheap from Hong Kong. The seller actually sent me two by accident, and not wanting to fuck up my karma I wrote her to tell her that. The email I received in return was priceless. "Thank you for your honest. Since you already get it, how about I sell you cheap? Five dollars?" Uh, thank you, but no. I then told her I would be happy to send it back, but I wasn't paying shipping costs. The reply-"Oh, shipping cost too much. You keep, give to your friend. Give me good rating." Awww, she thinks I have friends.
So at the beginning of this class, I had a moment of total insanity excitement and bought three corsets which resulted in a temporary ban from ebay by Chris. But my question is, why do all corsets come with a generically sized, matching G-string? Do people wear them? I'm sure as hell not going to. They are not flattering. But if you buy enough corsets, what do you do with them? Weave them in to a sail for a boat? Some kind of net? Or maybe we should start a G-string drive for strippers who can't afford them.
The other thing I need to get is pasties. Kind of an important part of the costume if that's all that's between the audience and my naughty bits. I never knew how many types there were. It's like a pastie wonderland out there! Hearts, flowers, stars, aces, skulls (yes, skull pasties) oh my! The best thing I saw-black pasties with FLASHING red hearts hanging off of them. Oh, yeah. From a company called Elegant Moments. Ohhh, yeah. And in the "Customers who bought this product also bought"-A Live Butterfly Garden? Really? Pasties and butterflies? Whatever.
I also FINALLY mastered putting on false eyelashes. Waaaaay harder than it looks. I've been struggling with that for weeks, but a great tip about using tweezers to place them has paid off. Thanks Miss B! As long as I don't poke myself in the eye. Thanks corneal abrasion! When I actually got them on straight for the first time I let out a cry of triumph and ran into the living room.
Me: I'm a woman now!
Chris: You weren't before?
Me: Look at my eyes!
Chris: They're magical.
Me: AHHHHHH!
Needless to say, it was a powerful moment.
So now it's time to put it all together. We have our last class, then two weeks off before the big graduation show. Stay tuned....
I have some of my costume done, but the majority still needs work. I do have a really cool corset though. It makes my waist super tiny. Or course that's after someone exerts about 1,000 lbs of pressure on the lacings! Suck it in! (foot up on the back) Pull! I bought if off of ebay of all places, cheap from Hong Kong. The seller actually sent me two by accident, and not wanting to fuck up my karma I wrote her to tell her that. The email I received in return was priceless. "Thank you for your honest. Since you already get it, how about I sell you cheap? Five dollars?" Uh, thank you, but no. I then told her I would be happy to send it back, but I wasn't paying shipping costs. The reply-"Oh, shipping cost too much. You keep, give to your friend. Give me good rating." Awww, she thinks I have friends.
So at the beginning of this class, I had a moment of total insanity excitement and bought three corsets which resulted in a temporary ban from ebay by Chris. But my question is, why do all corsets come with a generically sized, matching G-string? Do people wear them? I'm sure as hell not going to. They are not flattering. But if you buy enough corsets, what do you do with them? Weave them in to a sail for a boat? Some kind of net? Or maybe we should start a G-string drive for strippers who can't afford them.
The other thing I need to get is pasties. Kind of an important part of the costume if that's all that's between the audience and my naughty bits. I never knew how many types there were. It's like a pastie wonderland out there! Hearts, flowers, stars, aces, skulls (yes, skull pasties) oh my! The best thing I saw-black pasties with FLASHING red hearts hanging off of them. Oh, yeah. From a company called Elegant Moments. Ohhh, yeah. And in the "Customers who bought this product also bought"-A Live Butterfly Garden? Really? Pasties and butterflies? Whatever.
I also FINALLY mastered putting on false eyelashes. Waaaaay harder than it looks. I've been struggling with that for weeks, but a great tip about using tweezers to place them has paid off. Thanks Miss B! As long as I don't poke myself in the eye. Thanks corneal abrasion! When I actually got them on straight for the first time I let out a cry of triumph and ran into the living room.
Me: I'm a woman now!
Chris: You weren't before?
Me: Look at my eyes!
Chris: They're magical.
Me: AHHHHHH!
Needless to say, it was a powerful moment.
So now it's time to put it all together. We have our last class, then two weeks off before the big graduation show. Stay tuned....
Tuesday, March 30, 2010
Why you don't buy a GPS from Tony Soprano...
Picture, if you will, an innocent night out. An unfamiliar location. A GPS, gone....MAD! This is the chilling true story of The GPS That Tried to Kill Them. Or tried to kill two people. That were we. Or us. Crap, now I've forgotten both which person I'm writing in and proper grammar, apparently. Great. Hey, I went to public school when George W. Bush was governor of Texas. It's a fucking miracle I can write or speak at all. Anyway....
After a rousing night of watching hot chicks in fishnets try to kill each other (i.e Roller Derby), we were on our way to a bar for a couple of drinks. I guess I should have specified that the hot chick were on skates. That would have made the "i.e. Roller Derby" more obvious. As it's written I could have been talking about Foxy Boxing. Which also would have been awesome. But I digress, as I am wont to do...(this one time...No!) So we're in Sellwood. Which is not an area I'm that familiar with. So we take out our trusty GPS and plug in the address. We're driving along, chatting, having some laughs when I realize that we have followed the GPS into a, shall we say deserted, area. By a river. Near some woods. What next? Is the GPS going to tell us to get out of the car? Maybe walk a little further into the woods? It will make us feel safe and comfortable. Maybe offer us a drink, ask how the family is. Then accuse us of squealing to the Feds! No, no we'll protest! You've got the wrong guy (and girl)! It was Jimmy the Snitch that talked, I swear!
GPS: Make a right in 25 feet.
Me: Where? Into the woods? Ok, whatever...
GPS: Exit the car. Take GPS receiver with you.
Me: Wow. This better be a great bar. I don't even see a parking lot.
(walking through woods. dark, dark woods.)
GPS: Did you really think you could get away with it?
Me: What? Huh?
GPS: You shoulda known better than to rat on me!
Me: Well shit. I knew we shouldn't have bought this from that mobster. Fell of the back of a truck my ass! This is why you get a warranty!
Of course the GPS didn't really kill us. We got to it first....
After a rousing night of watching hot chicks in fishnets try to kill each other (i.e Roller Derby), we were on our way to a bar for a couple of drinks. I guess I should have specified that the hot chick were on skates. That would have made the "i.e. Roller Derby" more obvious. As it's written I could have been talking about Foxy Boxing. Which also would have been awesome. But I digress, as I am wont to do...(this one time...No!) So we're in Sellwood. Which is not an area I'm that familiar with. So we take out our trusty GPS and plug in the address. We're driving along, chatting, having some laughs when I realize that we have followed the GPS into a, shall we say deserted, area. By a river. Near some woods. What next? Is the GPS going to tell us to get out of the car? Maybe walk a little further into the woods? It will make us feel safe and comfortable. Maybe offer us a drink, ask how the family is. Then accuse us of squealing to the Feds! No, no we'll protest! You've got the wrong guy (and girl)! It was Jimmy the Snitch that talked, I swear!
GPS: Make a right in 25 feet.
Me: Where? Into the woods? Ok, whatever...
GPS: Exit the car. Take GPS receiver with you.
Me: Wow. This better be a great bar. I don't even see a parking lot.
(walking through woods. dark, dark woods.)
GPS: Did you really think you could get away with it?
Me: What? Huh?
GPS: You shoulda known better than to rat on me!
Me: Well shit. I knew we shouldn't have bought this from that mobster. Fell of the back of a truck my ass! This is why you get a warranty!
Of course the GPS didn't really kill us. We got to it first....
Saturday, March 13, 2010
Burlesque and the art of LOOK AT ME!
I am in LOVE with my Burlesque class! The kind of love that frolics with unicorns in fields of flowers under perfect blue skies. Yes, that kind of love. Let me re-cap the two classes I've had so far... We have four amazing instructors and 10 (including yours truly) eager students. We spend a lot of the first class talking about the history of burlesque and just getting to know one another. We talk about how we decided to leap off of this particular bridge and a little about what we hope to gain from this experience. (world wide fame and adoration)
The students are mostly in that 25-35 year old range, normal Portland gals, different body types, different backgrounds...and then one somewhat older woman. She seems nice enough, kind of has that earth goddess, granola, patchouli vibe goin' on. She's talking about how, in her search for a creative outlet, she recently "came out as a clown". Um. Ok. Do clowns "come out"? Out of where? I really hope not a closet. Cuz' that's pretty disturbing scary fucking terrifying creepy. Maybe they come out of a clown car...
In class two we talk about the theatrics of burlesque. It's not all about shakin' your tail feathers, there's a lot of acting going on. We practice conveying different emotions and personalities using body language. Seductive vs. innocent. Flirty vs. cold-hearted. The way you walk, the way you make eye contact or don't, the way you set your arms, shoulders, hips. All of this can change the mood of a routine. This is the first time we're having to really DO anything in front of the class. Right away I'm noticing how almost everyone gets super shy and embarrassed all of a sudden.
(not me, I love an audience)
Our Drama Queen instructor, Sadie, sits us all down for a Drama Mama chat. Her point is that everyone has issues that come up in these classes. Body, self-esteem, shyness, the list goes on. Getting past all of those things is part of the reason people are here. She also makes a good point about how so many women grow up with all of that "seen and not heard" bullshit. It's time to stand up and shout "I deserve your attention!" All of these are good, valid, pertinent points. Personally though, I have no idea what she's talking about. That's not entirely true perhaps, but I mean, come on, I'm a Leo and an only child for cryin' out loud. I was BORN an attention whore. If anything I have to constantly remind myself it's not always about me. It should be though. What? I'm NOT the center of the universe?
I have body issues and insecurities. I still get nervous before karaoke. But I love that spotlight way more than I'm scared of it. And I don't embarrass all that easily. I think that has something to do with the fact that I do potentially embarrassing things pretty much on a regular basis. You make a fool out of yourself enough times and I think you get desensitized or something...
Our next class is hair and make-up. So stoked for that one! I went out and bought a pair of super glam false eye-lashes. I'm just glad I'll be trying them for the first time under professional supervision. It's all fun and games until someone loses an eye...
The students are mostly in that 25-35 year old range, normal Portland gals, different body types, different backgrounds...and then one somewhat older woman. She seems nice enough, kind of has that earth goddess, granola, patchouli vibe goin' on. She's talking about how, in her search for a creative outlet, she recently "came out as a clown". Um. Ok. Do clowns "come out"? Out of where? I really hope not a closet. Cuz' that's pretty disturbing scary fucking terrifying creepy. Maybe they come out of a clown car...
In class two we talk about the theatrics of burlesque. It's not all about shakin' your tail feathers, there's a lot of acting going on. We practice conveying different emotions and personalities using body language. Seductive vs. innocent. Flirty vs. cold-hearted. The way you walk, the way you make eye contact or don't, the way you set your arms, shoulders, hips. All of this can change the mood of a routine. This is the first time we're having to really DO anything in front of the class. Right away I'm noticing how almost everyone gets super shy and embarrassed all of a sudden.
(not me, I love an audience)
Our Drama Queen instructor, Sadie, sits us all down for a Drama Mama chat. Her point is that everyone has issues that come up in these classes. Body, self-esteem, shyness, the list goes on. Getting past all of those things is part of the reason people are here. She also makes a good point about how so many women grow up with all of that "seen and not heard" bullshit. It's time to stand up and shout "I deserve your attention!" All of these are good, valid, pertinent points. Personally though, I have no idea what she's talking about. That's not entirely true perhaps, but I mean, come on, I'm a Leo and an only child for cryin' out loud. I was BORN an attention whore. If anything I have to constantly remind myself it's not always about me. It should be though. What? I'm NOT the center of the universe?
I have body issues and insecurities. I still get nervous before karaoke. But I love that spotlight way more than I'm scared of it. And I don't embarrass all that easily. I think that has something to do with the fact that I do potentially embarrassing things pretty much on a regular basis. You make a fool out of yourself enough times and I think you get desensitized or something...
Our next class is hair and make-up. So stoked for that one! I went out and bought a pair of super glam false eye-lashes. I'm just glad I'll be trying them for the first time under professional supervision. It's all fun and games until someone loses an eye...
Wednesday, March 3, 2010
So I'm taking my clothes off....in public
The glare from the stage lights. The sparkle of rhinestones. The hush that comes over the crowd as the music starts. The bump. The grind. This is burlesque, and this is fucking awesome. I have always had an obsession a fascination with retro style. (Come on, who isn't turned on by Dita Von Teese) The elaborate hair, the swoopy eyeliner, the seamed stockings. And all the pretty, pretty, PRETTY underthings. Those of you who know me are aware that I don't put too much effort in to my appearance. It's not that I don't like to get dressed up, but I don't wear heels and I don't even own mascara. But I wish I did. So here I am on a Saturday night. Sitting in a packed auditorium watching a parade of gorgeous women take their clothes off. It's like a Vargas gallery come to life. And I love it. I wish I looked like all of these women. Confident, graceful, bedazzeled within an inch of their lives. I want to do that. So I'm gonna.
(Pause for shocked gasps)
Starting this Thursday (as in tomorrow, eep!) I will be attending a six-week course at the Rose City School of Burlesque. Topics include the history of burlesque, creating a burlesque persona and various acts, music, hair and make-up (thank god), and dance. Then at the end of the class we all take our new found sexy skills and have a performance. In. Public. Well, the public of our friends and whoever we want to invite. But still. Public.
I said before that I felt 2010 was going to be a good year. Part of that, for me, includes a certain amount of re-invention in my life. Yeah, yeah there's the old stand-by of lose weight, eat better, but I want more than just that. I want to do something that I've never done, but always wanted to. Something that scares the shit out of me, but is so unbelievably exciting as well. Something that allows me to buy corsets off of Ebay like a mad woman.
So tune in faithful readers for a running account of how to be a burlesque beauty. Look forward to intense discourses on proper corset fitting. A treatise on pasties, perhaps. A composition on false eyelashes. An ode to the stocking.
At the very least, I'll finally learn how to walk in heels.
And now for your viewing pleasure, a video of the wonderful Holly Dai who started the Rose City School of Burlesque and is one of the instructors. The red-head announcing her is Sadie LeGuerre, also a well-known performer and instructor.
(Pause for shocked gasps)
Starting this Thursday (as in tomorrow, eep!) I will be attending a six-week course at the Rose City School of Burlesque. Topics include the history of burlesque, creating a burlesque persona and various acts, music, hair and make-up (thank god), and dance. Then at the end of the class we all take our new found sexy skills and have a performance. In. Public. Well, the public of our friends and whoever we want to invite. But still. Public.
I said before that I felt 2010 was going to be a good year. Part of that, for me, includes a certain amount of re-invention in my life. Yeah, yeah there's the old stand-by of lose weight, eat better, but I want more than just that. I want to do something that I've never done, but always wanted to. Something that scares the shit out of me, but is so unbelievably exciting as well. Something that allows me to buy corsets off of Ebay like a mad woman.
So tune in faithful readers for a running account of how to be a burlesque beauty. Look forward to intense discourses on proper corset fitting. A treatise on pasties, perhaps. A composition on false eyelashes. An ode to the stocking.
At the very least, I'll finally learn how to walk in heels.
And now for your viewing pleasure, a video of the wonderful Holly Dai who started the Rose City School of Burlesque and is one of the instructors. The red-head announcing her is Sadie LeGuerre, also a well-known performer and instructor.
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
Seriously, I got nothin'...
It's been almost a month since my last post, and boy have things been BORING... I have had zero, zilch, nada to write about. So here I am, blogging about nothing. Wow, that's brilliant. But I have to write SOMETHING!!! The pressure is overwhelming! The anxiety is killing me! Or I'm just really lazy. Yeah, probably that. So is anything going on? Well, Dick Cheney had his 5th heart attack. Which is ridiculous because everyone knows Dick Cheney doesn't have a heart! (thank you very much, I'm here all week!) Closer to home, Chris took the initiative and cleaned the toilet without being asked. This is a momentous occasion people...or it's a sign of the apocalypse, I'm not really sure. And no, I did not leave the toilet uncleaned just to see if he would clean it, though obviously the answer is yes. I just kept meaning to get around to it. And then not. Actually, that's been the theme with me for the past month. A general feeling of apathy. Ennui. Meh. Of course that's pretty much the norm in Oregon in February. But then came consecutive days of sun! And flowers blooming! WTF? So here we are, on the verge of spring. I can feel the mood lightening, the resolve returning, the urge to eat inappropriate carbs abating. So hang in there readers! There are some seriously amusing bogs ahead. Just maybe not this one.
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
And now I have to kill myself....great.
I always assumed I would survive the apocalypse. Barreling down a deserted high way, hair streaming, shotgun strapped to my back. Taking down zombies or the occasional roving band of criminals that may or may not want to eat someone. Part of a hard-core band of survivors living on scavenged food and camping gear. Fuck yeah. Then I saw The Road. And now I have to kill myself. I don't mean right now or anything, but when the apocalypse hits, I'm Audi 5000 bitches. Who wants to survive that!? I can deal with zombies or a plague wiping out most of the population. I'm prepared. Now, they don't ever actually say what happened to royally screw the world in The Road, but it looks nuclear to me. Everything covered in ash, no sun, all plant and animal life extinct. Yeah, sounds about right. So again, WHO WANTS TO SURVIVE THIS SHIT! If it's sunny and warm and you know, the earth still works, I can see surviving the other post-apocalyptic hazards. But add in nuclear winter and I just hope I'm close enough to the bomb to be vaporized instantly. Of course when I verbalize this....
Me: I don't think I want to survive the apocalypse. If this shit happens you're going to have to kill me.
Chris: What are you talking about? Look who you're with! We would survive.
Me: I'm not saying we wouldn't. I'm saying I DON'T WANT TO. Seriously, who wants to live like that?! All that ash? My contact are fucked. And what happens if I lose my glasses? Then I'm all Omega Man, except I'm being chased by cannibals. Yeah. Good times.
Chris: So I have to shoot you?
Me: Well hopefully I die quick and painlessly before it comes to that, but yeah, you might have to shoot me.
Chris: That would be really hard.
Me: But not impossible.
Chris: No, not impossible.
Me: What the hell? It would be HARD, but NOT impossible?! Like, kind of a minor inconvenience. It should TOTALLY be impossible for you to shoot me! I can't believe you could shoot me. Thanks.
Chris: You ASKED me to! It was YOUR IDEA.
Me: Still though, you agreed pretty quickly.
Chris: Can I shoot you now?
*this conversation may be slightly exaggerated* *MAY BE*
Then Chris went on to say something about how some people just aren't cut out for true survival. How it's just not in some people to be survivors. Whoa, hold up. Was that a challenge? Well crap, now I HAVE to survive.
Checklist for Survival re: Apocalypse
1. Get Lasik
2. Stock up on shoes (score!), clothes and moisturizer
3. Learn to spot cannibals (I think they have a club logo or something)
4. Develop stone-cold intimidation stare
5. Cardio, cardio, cardio (if they can't catch you, they can't eat you!)
Personally, I'm still holding out for zombies....
Me: I don't think I want to survive the apocalypse. If this shit happens you're going to have to kill me.
Chris: What are you talking about? Look who you're with! We would survive.
Me: I'm not saying we wouldn't. I'm saying I DON'T WANT TO. Seriously, who wants to live like that?! All that ash? My contact are fucked. And what happens if I lose my glasses? Then I'm all Omega Man, except I'm being chased by cannibals. Yeah. Good times.
Chris: So I have to shoot you?
Me: Well hopefully I die quick and painlessly before it comes to that, but yeah, you might have to shoot me.
Chris: That would be really hard.
Me: But not impossible.
Chris: No, not impossible.
Me: What the hell? It would be HARD, but NOT impossible?! Like, kind of a minor inconvenience. It should TOTALLY be impossible for you to shoot me! I can't believe you could shoot me. Thanks.
Chris: You ASKED me to! It was YOUR IDEA.
Me: Still though, you agreed pretty quickly.
Chris: Can I shoot you now?
*this conversation may be slightly exaggerated* *MAY BE*
Then Chris went on to say something about how some people just aren't cut out for true survival. How it's just not in some people to be survivors. Whoa, hold up. Was that a challenge? Well crap, now I HAVE to survive.
Checklist for Survival re: Apocalypse
1. Get Lasik
2. Stock up on shoes (score!), clothes and moisturizer
3. Learn to spot cannibals (I think they have a club logo or something)
4. Develop stone-cold intimidation stare
5. Cardio, cardio, cardio (if they can't catch you, they can't eat you!)
Personally, I'm still holding out for zombies....
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