A few months ago...
...right at the start of my transformation
into a red lipstick lady – I performed at a vintage fair with Mr P. Also
performing were a troupe of feathered, frilled and fabulous burlesque dancers.
After singing I was meandering happily around the stalls when a lady in a
Basque, frilly knickers and stockings strode up to me and presented me with a
leaflet for Burlesque classes.
I was intrigued and – needing some incentive to get back
into shape – signed up in a rush of adrenaline.
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| I was pretty sure this was how I'd look after my first lesson... |
Last night was my first session. I was a little bit nervous!
On the info sheet the teacher stated that she liked her
ladies to dress “flirty, frilly and fabulous!” but that you could start in
whatever you felt comfortable in.
This was not helpful information for a newbie.
I spent a good half an hour pacing up and down in front of
my wardrobe picking up and discarding various bottoms and tops for being too
tight, too revealing, too boring etc. Eventually, feeling daring, I put on a
pair of silk black shorts (from an old Halloween costume) over the top of a
pair of sheer tights, a scoop necked t-shirt and a pair of ballet pumps. To
finish off I coated on my red lipstick, twisted my hair into a chignon and set
off for my class – hoping I’d fit in.
Strutting into the class in my slinky shorts one thing quickly
became apparent... I was very under (or, depending on how you look at it - over)
dressed.
I was surrounded by women of all ages, shapes and sizes.
Bums peeked out underneath frilly pants, long legs were encased in fishnet
stockings, cleavages swelled and spilled out the top of gorgeous Basques and
corsets and most the outfits were accessorised with a pair of stunning heels.
Luckily as I scouted around the room I quickly spotted a few
more ladies looking slightly apprehensive in more standard work out gear –
phew!
However, over half the girls were dressed in beautiful
Burlesque gear, from the fairly modest corset and long skirt right through to
the slightly less modest Basque and silk knickers! As we got into place I
thought to myself how much I admired all these brave women and how sure I was
that I would never be one of them!
Then we started the class. Jem – our teacher – started us
off slowly.
“Now class,” she instructed, “Bring your shoulders forward
one at a time to the music, 1...2....3....4..., excellent, now double time....
and double time again.”
Before you knew it we were all shimmying as if our lives
depended on it! Everywhere you looked there were boobs of all sizes bouncing from side to
side in glorious abandonment. Jordan, eat your heart out! Some of the best
boobs in the country were dancing in Chelmsford last night.
It took me a while to get into the swing of things. Wiggling
my bum and popping my hip to each side in time to music proved to be beyond me
and I ended up doing the least erotic uncoordinated thrust you can imagine but
– after a couple of tries – I started to get the hang of it. I’m still not
convinced that any move I did last night was in the least bit tantalising but,
to be perfectly frank, I’m not sure that mattered a bit.
I quickly started to lose my inhibitions. By the third time
we started strutting along the floor in front of our imaginary audience I was throwing
in the odd pout and flick of my heel. I quickly decided that my ballet pumps were
completely redundant, next time I will be prancing in sexy heels thank you very
much!
In fact – I started to muse to myself – maybe I need to
re-think my entire outfit. I mean what is the point of wiggling all your lovely
wobbly bits if no-one can see them??
So there you have it. Within one hour Burlesque had turned
me from a girl worrying that her shorts over a pair of tights would be too
risqué (pah!) to a woman seriously considering purchasing a pair of frilly
knickers all of her own and wondering whether or not to try the nipple tassel
workshop.
I’m not saying this is a permanent transition – there’s no
danger of me strutting into a local bar with my goods on display any time soon
– but maybe there is space in my life for one hour a week of sheer abandonment
of any and all of my body hang ups.
I’m under no illusions about my dancing style – currently I
am less coordinated than one of the hippos in fantasia.
 |
| To be fair she looks pretty graceful |
But, surrounded by all
those gorgeous girls with Jem shouting; “smile! Give your audience a wink!” I
stopped caring. When we were told to get into a power stance I posed with the
best of them!
So, Dita Von Teese I’m not – yet. But one thing is certain;
I’m going to give it a damn good go!
Mrs P
X x x x x x x x x x
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