I feel like I should be writing this entry like a diary.
Dear Diary, Today I lost my burlesque virginity and I feel amazing and exhausted all at the same time. (Isn't that how everyone feels after their first time?... haha, right.)
My oh my, what a night. This last week has been a bit of a whirl wind in itself, as leading up to the event my mood swings went from confident to crawling under a coffee table and never coming out, very rapidly.
The day before the event, I was busy putting together raffle prizes and at the end of the night I started to feel crazy jitters, giant expanding Pterodactyl wing nerves, in my stomach, and I wasn't so sure I could do it. I was freaking out that I was under-rehearsed, because in my crazy brain, even if people didn't like my body, they would love my routine as long as it was well put-together, and well executed. So I thought I needed more rehearsal... despite the large amount I had already rehearsed...and I didn't have time for anymore... And therefore I lost my shit.
What was happening? My highly over-loaded brain couldn't compute that even though I have come a LONG way with being able to feel sexy, and love myself and my body, I was going to allow other people into my vulnerable place, and leave room for judgement. That is a whole other beast into itself! And one over which I had absolutely no control. Luckily I was in the presence of a calm, wonderful
company member who graciously offered to watch my routine, as it would
help a lot to do it in front of someone. She was right. It helped a lot. But there was still a lingering fear...
So, the big day arrived. I woke up before my alarm, super excited, shaved everything that needed to be shaved, made sure I had everything on my list to bring, curled my hair, and headed out to my cab with my load full of stuff. The first thing I see when I'm out the door, is my adorable old caretaker watering the garden.
"Oh, what lovely packages you've got there." It was at this moment that I realized I was carrying 2 large gift baskets full of dildos, lube, and naughty videos. Before my mortification could set in, and before he could get a better look, I ran into the cab and wished him a good day safely hidden in the back seat.
There were plenty of things to be done during the day, and therefore I had a lot to busy my mind with. It was about 2 hours before the doors opened that I suddenly started worrying about my pasties. I had this day-mere of getting down to my bra in front of the crowd, and exposing my breasts to see that I forgot to put them on, or they fell right off.
I should mention here that a few days before this, I had decided to practice my routine with the pasties glued on. I used spirit gum, as a couple of burlesque pros had recommended it. For those of you who don't know, spirit gum is used generally with actors for facial hair, fake lesions, etc. So, I had some around from my old U of W days. Anyway, I was told to apply it, and wait until it was sticky, then put them on. The problem was, I didn't know how much to use. I figured the more, the better, so I coated both pasties in a layer of the stuff, and off we went. After rehearsal, I took my bra off to discover there was glue ALL OVER. It was covering my bra, and basically my entire breasts. I started freaking out, trying to wash it off with soap, to no avail. I remembered that I had a bottle of spirit gum remover in my stage make-up, so I was throwing things out from under my bed trying to find it. (comically, I had put on a robe in case my roommate came home, so it continued to get stuck, and I was intermittently ripping it off of my poor glue-coated chest. At last I found the bottle to find... it was empty. Crap. I know we used something else to remove it in school, but I couldn't remember, so I googled it. Rubbing alcohol. Did I have any? After another drastic search, SUCCESS! I went on to spend the next 45 minutes watching "Orange is the new black" and de-gluing myself, but at least it was working.
So, you can imagine why I would be nervous. Luckily after a brief consultation with a seasoned professional, I decided to put them on right away, and get it over with, with the ability to check before the number, that all was well. It is the oddest sensation to sit topless in a public bathroom stall. I felt strangely giddy as I sat there half-naked, applying my glue in calculated amounts.
Through a mediocre amount of chaos, we managed to get everything set, ourselves dressed, and the show began! The only difficulty came when we realized we would have to clear the bar off completely to make sure it was safe for us to get up there. I volunteered to go out and check, and was surprised to find there were about 12 people sitting right at it. Shit. I went up to the first couple and tried desperately to communicate quickly that we would need them to move because we needed the bar for the first number. They were appalled. The lady turned to me and said "well, where do you expect us to sit, then?" This was not the answer I was expecting. For a few seconds my brain could not comprehend that these people were being so ridiculous. I had no reply except "I don't really know, but I assure you that you can have your seat back when the number is done." I saw them begrudgingly get up mumbling "Leave your coat on the bar to save it." I couldn't believe it. I picked up the coat, at this point having lost all patience, and handed it to them saying "We will need the bar clear, sorry." The look on their faces told me that our neediness in performance was really getting on their nerves. Luckily all other people were very compliant, and the clown number went off without hitch.
Intermission hit, and my number was first up in the next act. This is when my fears began to creep in once again. I checked on my girls, pasties were still in place and holding strong, and then started to put my costume on, when I suddenly realized that I did not have my gloves, as I had thrown them on the bartenders' head in the first number. Again, Shit. I ran over to our kitten, but she did not have them, I ran to the bar but they did not have them, I ran over to the door as I had misheard someone say they might have them, and then made my way backstage, this time, in full freak out mode. Luckily they were lying at the bottom of a pile of clothes retrieved backstage. And I was back in business. Outfit on. A little rehearsal with my lovely opening partner, and I was ready. Before I knew what was happening, I was introduced, and the music started, and we were out. Thank god I had another person in my introduction, as it gave me a very friendly and safe way in.
I got to the beginning of the actual number, and I could already feel the encouragement. The audience was with me. As I got up to take off my first glove, I started to feel relaxed in my routine. I was starting to enjoy it. I stopped worrying... that is until I caught a familiar eye in the audience and then began the moves to throw my stocking before I had actually taken it off... whoops. Deep breath, went back into my zone, and we were back at it.
I cannot fully describe the exhilaration of having a room full of people cheer you on as you flirt and tease and take off a couple of items, and watch the excitement grow as more and more interesting things come off. It was amazing.
Now, I was at the point that I was regretting the most...I was about to show off, pretty much, my entire butt to a crowd full of people. It wasn't until rehearsal the day before that I had found out I was the only one who would be wearing a thong in the show. I started to really regret it, but my costume was all put together, and it was too late for changes now! It was around then that I remembered how I had planned on putting make-up all over my butt, to feel a bit better about it. I had some bruises, and faded stretch marks, and I thought it would give me more confidence, but, alas, I had forgotten that little detail in the craziness of looking for gloves. It was too late now. I was holding my skirt, teasing for a little bit more than I had planned in rehearsal. I took a deep breath, and let it drop to the floor, as the audience got more excited, I turned around, gave a little shake, and they cheered like crazy! They loved my bare butt!
The rest of the routine is a bit of a blur, as I found myself getting ahead of the music a few times, so I was playing with the audience much more than I had planned, and I have no idea what I did. All I can say, is in the last moments, when I dropped the bra, turned around, and did a little shimmy, I have never felt more like a rock star in my life. I felt good. I felt sexy, whether I looked it or not, is not even relevant. I felt it. And I liked it.
I hadn't even planned an exit from the stage, so I stood in shock for a second, boobies forward, and then excitedly, and speedily made my way into the back changing curtain.
Holy shit. I did it. I was still ablaze with a rush of excitement. My fingers were shaking as I tried to put some clothes on. I did it. I did it. I DID IT!
Through the rest of the night, I had a lot of lovely people show their support, and compliment me on various parts of my anatomy. It was a strange thing to walk into a room and know that everyone there has seen my money maker and my ta tas. You'd think that would be enough to keep me from getting into my head, but I could feel little thoughts creep in that "everyone was really grossed out by my ass, they were just being nice, they thought I was fat..." I heard them, but you know what? I wouldn't let them stay. I made the decision to enjoy my night. And I did.
The truth is, I don't think I could have done this a couple of years
ago, or maybe even a year ago. This was one of my biggest but also most
enticing fears I had, and I proved to myself that I have really grown as a
person to get out there and do it. And sober at that! That is truly astonishing.
There were several moments near the end of the night when I looked around that room, overwhelmed with emotion. Overwhelmed that there were so many supportive friends and Theatre comrades out there, overwhelmed by the caliber of performers who agreed to use their talents to help us with the night, the supportive colleagues and friends who helped us run the show, and the fact that we, inamorata, actually made this happen. We did it. And I did it.
Not only that, here's to another baby step forward into changing the views on female body image and sexuality. I am very proud.
I encourage y'all to try doing something that scares the poop out of you. It is quite an empowering experience.
Love and kindness all.
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