Bold Moves at Proud Cabaret
A Woman’s Impressions of a Burlesque Show
The lights are low, enveloping the diners in darkness and anonymity. Every pair of eyes watches the stage. Bright ellipses from the spotlights pick out your destination, the raised area as you weave your way between tables and chairs. Your costume is skimpy, belly-dancer exotic but the main impact is made by the intricate, bright artwork tattooed on your skin. The stage light illuminates the vivid colours and eye-catching designs. Many piercings act as further adornment to your body. They glint from your ears, and twinkle in your eyebrows; I can’t pull my gaze away from the pattern of the transdermal piercings on your torso.
Those of us in the audience have eaten a fancy meal and enjoyed a cocktail or three to calm skittish nerves. It’s my first time at such a show. I wasn’t prepared for it to be so intimate, now I find myself unexpectedly close to the dais on which you now undulate and flex. You put the other dancers’ performance in the shade. They seem mere appetizers for your dramatic display, which holds me spellbound.
I consider myself an open-minded hetero female. My husband and I came for my titillation as much as his, but my visceral reaction has stunned me. I reveled in the costumes of the waitresses; dressed in basques or bustiers, lacy boyshorts with stockings and…
