My childhood memories tell me that I was an active, artistic but strange kid who loved to draw, dance, make costumes out of scraps and play dress ups as if it were everyday routine.
Like most kids I owned a mix tape of 80s music including Bros, Alice Cooper and Belinda Carlisle. I also remember that I used to dance to Kylie when her video clip came on in the morning during Video Hits. I'd dress up, get my imaginary microphone out and pretend I knew all the words and moves.
Perhaps mum should have encouraged me to follow my circus and cabaret dream, who knows I could have run away with the circus as I wanted to. I guess my life would have taken an interesting turn if she had, but instead I'm a nut packer in the city and I work hard on the weekends on my second job just to crack commission for extra cash. Deep down I know mums not really at fault, we make our own destiny and we shouldn't use our past experiences as excuses.
Mum did however get my sister and I involved in dancing at a local Maltese club, Malta Star of the Sea. They were a very unorganised bunch of people and we had a different instructor every month which was hard for us to keep a routine going. Jazz was mostly what we learnt and we performed on stage at a number of venues around town.
The feeling of being on stage, expressing yourself to an audience is a rewarding feeling, it’s not till it’s over and you hear the applause that you get the buzz and an adrenalin rush of sorts. You were nervous at first but now that it’s over you want to get up there and do it again. What a rush, what an experience.
My sister and I loved to dance and once we had choreographed a routine and I imagined myself in a cabaret outfit complete with top hat and tails. We thought it would be cool to show mum so I side stepped, shimmed and tipped my hat cheekily at the end. Needless to say, mum was not impressed. Too sexy for a girl my age perhaps, I think it was! She gave me the coldest look, as if I had just shamed the family name by committing an unspeakable crime. I felt the embarrassment wash over me as if she had surprisingly thrown a bucket of ice water over me.
This incident was one of many things my sister and I would do as bored kids to entertain ourselves. As we got older we were still into dance and I recall that we used to get a kick out of Fat Boy Slim's video for Praise You. You know the one, it had the group of people standing in a circle at some kind of shopping centre and they would jump up in the air and do all sorts of crazy moves to the music. Well, we loved it and had the moves down pat, what a classic.
The obsession my sister and I had with music and dance did not end there as more dancing would occur once our parents left the house on weekends. Myself being a Harry No Friends and her being underage for nightclubs meant that we were at home late on weekends so we used to make our own fun.
You see , we both shared a special secret love for what we called 'dumb dancing' which was basically throwing a bunch of impromptu dance moves together with mental facial expressions at match! This kind of dance came about from watching Mc Hammers 'Can't touch this' video clip on repeat and being fans of 'The Fresh Prince' aka Will Smith.
On these weekends the radio would be turned on and we would tune it to the station that had the all night nonstop party mix on and at times take turns at competing with alternating moves like a b boy would at a break dance comp. The whole living room and bottom floor of the house was our dance hall and we would go from room to room throwing our hands in the air and busting silly moves that at times had the old nosey lady next door staring!
We would dance, laugh and compete like this all through the night until we hear the sound of Dad's car rolling into the driveway. There would be a manic rush to the radio to turn off the music and we would stand near the front door side by side panting like dehydrated dogs in a desert and we would be dripping in sweat. Mum would ask us what happened and we would look at each other and try not to laugh as we tell her that nothing went on.
Although I never took my dancing classes seriously (I was too busy being the class clown) I did enjoy myself those four or so years that I danced. I did go on to join another dance group which was a hip hop group when I was 18 or so but since then I hadn't danced for years!
Since falling into my role as Presenter and Writer for online media site Trash Baggery I have been meeting, talking to many performers (mainly burlesque) and attending events to watch them razzle dazzle an audience. Many times I have left a show totally mesmerised by what these performers achieve on stage and what they give the audience in return for a few minutes of their time.
When one of those lovely enchanting creatures, Danica Lee advertised her Friday night burlesque class for beginners on Face book I read the advertisement and automatically hit 'attending' as my response.
I must say a number of times I thought that I should just cancel and forget about it as I had not payed yet and the date was coming closer, but deep down I wanted to attend so I had decided to do the class as I had no reason not to and I wanted to see how I felt as I have become a little uptight of late. I needed to try something different and this was it, curiosity always gets me.
From watching burlesque performances, both Neo and Classical styles over the last year I must say that I fell in love with the art, the drama of it all and most of all the personal expression that comes from each artist as they throw everything that have into their performance. There is so much energy in every performance and the expression for feelings and emotions spoken though the body is so amazing to watch.
For the night of the workshop work had me down as NA for that whole Friday, just so I could get ready and make my way down to Chippendale, where Danica’s studio is located without any hassle. I am prone to getting lost in Sydney and I had never been to that area with my car before.
Walking though the door, I knew that there was no turning back now. However undertaking Danica's workshop made me feel free again just like I did when I was younger, free and able to express myself as I wanted to. Now I was no longer afraid to be me and I had let myself go!
Danica is a Classical Burlesque dancer and this means that she does things the traditional way and uses props such as gloves and feather boas to tease her audience and she is also specialised in fan work. She taught me and the other women not only how to dance and express ourselves as women but also about the history of burlesque. The history of glove removal is interesting, as gloves were worn by women back in the day in everyday circumstances and to take gloves off was actually quite risqué in those days so this gives the audience the thrill.
The class taught us how to shimmy and shake, use gloves, feather boas and we learnt that Burlesque does not discriminate on size and shape. A feeling of empowerment washed over me as I used the largest asset I had (my behind if you didn't know what that is) which was amazing and it was such a great thing for the self esteem.
Building character was another large part of the class and I found out that my inner minx, Miss Lady Kalypso herself is a true lady, very sexy and classical. The characters moves must match how they handle and use their props and this means that facial expressions are just as much important as the routine as how you pull off each section of the dance reflects the type of character you are.
The class soon came to an end and as I exited through those studio doors I was thinking that dancing is something that I would like to continue. I have a spot in my heart for burlesque as it is so rich in history and since doing my research further into this I have learnt more.
I must confess that I am a bit of a prude when it comes to myself being semi naked on stage so I don’t know if I would be comfortable taking it all off for an audience (can you imagine explaining that one to wog parents and what they will tell the relatives) but I have a better understanding of it and a deeper respect for the women who do it as a career.
There are still circus classes I want to try so watch this space.
This blog post is dedicated to my sister Vanessa, thank you for the mental times...love you long time.
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