Friday, October 8, 2010


I went to my first ever burlesque show in London last night. I was zooper cited. And even wore a hat! A vee pretty green hat with a netted veil.. A NETTED VEIL!

Billing itself as a nightclub with daily cabaret, comedy and burlesque, something was immediately disjointed as I entered the club. Mirrored walls, black chandeliers, suits - (not nice vintage dapper suits mind you, CORPORATE SUITS) - an all female bar staff very slow to serve, all in matching Agent Provocateur panties (I COULD SEE THEIR BUM BUMS), and upon serving you informing you that a bottle of beer was £6 - as of today's currency conversion that is €6.85 in Irish euro money for 330mls of beer!!! I was not best impressed. Even one of the headline acts was saying that this was more of an Ann Summers strand of Burlesque....


I then discovered whilst auditioning for performers/bar wenches they were not interested in anyone over a size ten. There was an air of insecurity about the place that was palpable. I felt insecure. I overheard one of those extremely distasteful conversations in the loos where two women compliment each other through outrageous displays of a lack of self respect - "I do yoga for hours to even try to get a body like yours!", "Oh but I wish I had hair like yours mine is so limp", "YOU'RE ALL BORING" - oh that last quote might have been me...

There's a depressing self consciousness to so many beautiful women that I find, not only distasteful, but wasteful, irritating and entirely unnecessary. Of course I fall victim to many moments of doubt about myself, but then I GET OVER MYSELF, recall that I do not have a second nose on my forehead and get on with my unhealthy, hedonistic, joy filled life.
For me, it's nightclubs such as this which fully endorse and support this mindset.

Later in the night, I discovered that City Burlesque was formerly a "table-dancing club", and it made a lot of sense.... there was nothing remotely empowering, intriguing, subversive or new about this club, and it would be AT BEST described as a contemporary version of a Playboy club, most notably grasping on to the values of those 1950s clubs in relation to objectifying the female through social norms of beauty with talent being listed as a nice pair of tits and how you've dieted yourself to the point of looking like a boy.

Now I left early out of irritation, and with the exception of Lydia Darling, Miss Banbury Cross, and from what I hear Luna Rosa, who are all of major merit in their own light... Lydia Darling was prevented from using fire in her show and seemed puzzled as to how to adapt her performance through creative was all very depressing. They were there to be pretty. That seems to be enough to impress them, but it certainly wasn't enough for me. AND DID I MENTION THE PRICE OF THE BEER? Incidentally, the sad appearance of a young Winehouse woman was also pretty upsetting. BUT LETS NEVER SPEAK OF THAT AGAIN.
Yes, I'm talking to you THE SUN.