My feather boa
fascinates, like snow falling.
Tassels must be next.
Sunday, November 28, 2010
Friday, November 19, 2010
Monday, November 15, 2010
More Haiku du Jour
Bitter coffee blights
The blossom of my morning
Like an unkind frost.
When did I become
So delicate a flower?
Once I was rugged.
Once I could drink coffee
Made with grounds and a tube sock.
Those days are long gone.
The blossom of my morning
Like an unkind frost.
When did I become
So delicate a flower?
Once I was rugged.
Once I could drink coffee
Made with grounds and a tube sock.
Those days are long gone.
Sunday, November 14, 2010
The Burlesque Diary, Part 3
The pasties, the bra, the boa, the gloves the dress. Yes. Today was the big time - taking most of it off, to the tune of "Harlem Nocturne", which I fortunately have on my burlesque music CD. (That hardly ever happens with a dance class - lucky me!) We started slow, first with boas (which are so fun and flirty. How did I make it past 40 without a boa? What was I thinking?) Boas are great - show, cover up, show, cover up, discard with a flourish. (As Lily said, burlesque is the art of making the little big, and making the big little).
Gloves were great, too - tease slooooowly, one finger at a time, ease them off, twirl and fling. My dress was a bit of a challenge - it's best if the back zipper is low, so you can just reach up the back to start it going. My dress? Zipper started at the neck. I had to fudge by pulling down to a reachable level. Turn your back, unzip. Turn to the front, one arm out, both arms out, hold dress up, show the back, ease down, bend over, puddle on floor, step out without killing self. Repeat with bra.
Now, I had excellent intentions of stripping down to pasties, but the dang tape wouldn't stick at the studio. It worked just fine at home, of course. So, I improvised but putting my shocking pink burlesque brassiere over my unitard. It came off just fine, but I realized that the unitard was a bit - um -inadequate for my front. No surprises occurred, though. My compadres did a lovely job of attaching their pasties, and they even color-coordinated their lingerie to the pasties. Red and black. Grey leopard print with pewter grey pasties. And when their brassieres hit the floor, they all looked FINE. Pasties make everything fabulous, dontcha know.
One of best things burlesque can give you is the realization that even if you are not perfect, most of you is excellent, regardless of shape or size. And some parts of you are probably better than excellent. And then there's that darn-I'm-good energy that we all need but have a hard time finding. I showed up for class a bit down, and I left feeling completely back to my perky self. I don't need Zoloft or Paxil, I need fun, heavily laced with slow music and sequins. And a burlesque name - I'm considering "Stella Soiree".
Try some burlesque - I think every woman's life needs some pasties, a feather boa, and good feelings.
Gloves were great, too - tease slooooowly, one finger at a time, ease them off, twirl and fling. My dress was a bit of a challenge - it's best if the back zipper is low, so you can just reach up the back to start it going. My dress? Zipper started at the neck. I had to fudge by pulling down to a reachable level. Turn your back, unzip. Turn to the front, one arm out, both arms out, hold dress up, show the back, ease down, bend over, puddle on floor, step out without killing self. Repeat with bra.
Now, I had excellent intentions of stripping down to pasties, but the dang tape wouldn't stick at the studio. It worked just fine at home, of course. So, I improvised but putting my shocking pink burlesque brassiere over my unitard. It came off just fine, but I realized that the unitard was a bit - um -inadequate for my front. No surprises occurred, though. My compadres did a lovely job of attaching their pasties, and they even color-coordinated their lingerie to the pasties. Red and black. Grey leopard print with pewter grey pasties. And when their brassieres hit the floor, they all looked FINE. Pasties make everything fabulous, dontcha know.
One of best things burlesque can give you is the realization that even if you are not perfect, most of you is excellent, regardless of shape or size. And some parts of you are probably better than excellent. And then there's that darn-I'm-good energy that we all need but have a hard time finding. I showed up for class a bit down, and I left feeling completely back to my perky self. I don't need Zoloft or Paxil, I need fun, heavily laced with slow music and sequins. And a burlesque name - I'm considering "Stella Soiree".
Try some burlesque - I think every woman's life needs some pasties, a feather boa, and good feelings.
Friday, November 12, 2010
Wednesday, November 10, 2010
Tuesday, November 9, 2010
Monday, November 8, 2010
The Burlesque Diary, Part 2
Today was arts and crafts day. The lovely Lily put together little ziplock bags of materials, and brought plenty of scissors and glue for the class - pastie making. Not the meat pie pastie - think nipple covers.
Most public decency laws require an absence of complete nudity to be legal, hence, pasties and g-strings. According to Lily, Detroit strip artists are relatively modest, wearing full rear-coverage panties. In Grand Rapids, the center of the Dutch Reformed Church in Michigan, thongs rule (less restrictive ordinances.) Who'd have thought?
Any way, it's a very simple process. Take some cross-stitch canvas, and cut out a circle that covers your own nipple and aureola (I retired to the Ladies to be absolutely sure everything important was covered.) Cut to the center, make a judicious fold (pancakes vs party hats) and glue. After making this base, take a yard or so of sequins and the bottle of Fabri-tac glue, and glue the sequins around in overlapping rows.
It took on almost a Zen-like rhythm - tap on glue, tamp down sequins, mold with thumbs, discuss life. One adventurous lady went for the two-toned look - red and black spirals. At the end, they looked like luscious lollipops. One went with pewter gray - very sophisticated - and another snagged the holographic red ones - wow. They weren't merely sparkly red, they glowed. Note to self: holographic sequins rock.
Lily discussed variations as we tacked and pressed - she wanted to pass on a skill, not a party favor. If you cut a little hole in the middle and thread a tassel through before glueing and decorating, you will have tassel pasties. If you go to the fishing section of any big box store and find a lure thingy and attach it to the back of the tassel before threading through the base, you will have twirly tassels (hello, WalMart). We all brain-stormed on future pastie designs. Being highly-caffeineated, my taste ran toward Hello Kitty or skulls-and-crossbones for a pirate theme, but that was before I saw the holographic sequins.
Attaching the little darlings to les girls is actually easy - you can do double-sided Hollywood tape from Jo-Ann Fabrics, or toupee tape from Sally's Beauty Supply. Toupee tapes wins (it's cheaper!)
Moi? I went with a mauve pink. I took a photo, and they look like big buttons or tiny party hats (no, I can't get it into this post. Rats. No big deal - they were just laying in the palm of my hand.) And yes, I look BAD in my dainty mauve pasties. Very, very bad.
Next week - dresses and feather boas.
Most public decency laws require an absence of complete nudity to be legal, hence, pasties and g-strings. According to Lily, Detroit strip artists are relatively modest, wearing full rear-coverage panties. In Grand Rapids, the center of the Dutch Reformed Church in Michigan, thongs rule (less restrictive ordinances.) Who'd have thought?
Any way, it's a very simple process. Take some cross-stitch canvas, and cut out a circle that covers your own nipple and aureola (I retired to the Ladies to be absolutely sure everything important was covered.) Cut to the center, make a judicious fold (pancakes vs party hats) and glue. After making this base, take a yard or so of sequins and the bottle of Fabri-tac glue, and glue the sequins around in overlapping rows.
It took on almost a Zen-like rhythm - tap on glue, tamp down sequins, mold with thumbs, discuss life. One adventurous lady went for the two-toned look - red and black spirals. At the end, they looked like luscious lollipops. One went with pewter gray - very sophisticated - and another snagged the holographic red ones - wow. They weren't merely sparkly red, they glowed. Note to self: holographic sequins rock.
Lily discussed variations as we tacked and pressed - she wanted to pass on a skill, not a party favor. If you cut a little hole in the middle and thread a tassel through before glueing and decorating, you will have tassel pasties. If you go to the fishing section of any big box store and find a lure thingy and attach it to the back of the tassel before threading through the base, you will have twirly tassels (hello, WalMart). We all brain-stormed on future pastie designs. Being highly-caffeineated, my taste ran toward Hello Kitty or skulls-and-crossbones for a pirate theme, but that was before I saw the holographic sequins.
Attaching the little darlings to les girls is actually easy - you can do double-sided Hollywood tape from Jo-Ann Fabrics, or toupee tape from Sally's Beauty Supply. Toupee tapes wins (it's cheaper!)
Moi? I went with a mauve pink. I took a photo, and they look like big buttons or tiny party hats (no, I can't get it into this post. Rats. No big deal - they were just laying in the palm of my hand.) And yes, I look BAD in my dainty mauve pasties. Very, very bad.
Next week - dresses and feather boas.
Friday, November 5, 2010
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)