Burlesque to Boudoir: Reclaiming My Body. Part 1

Spring 2017

I was 30 years old. I had just had a painful eye surgery that left me with stitches on the outside of my eye. I wore sunglasses at work because I was self conscious about it. That weekend, I went to a show, a burlesque show. I saw people of different races, body types, ages, and genders performing. I thought: If they can do it, I can do it. It turned out almost all of them got their start at a local amateur competition show. Within days, I was looking into it and entering the next month's show on Easter weekend. That was the year I gave up shame for lent. I'm not even Catholic.

I had to pick a stage name. I like puns. Tinka Boudit came from a summer camp song from when I was a child. DONE. Been using it ever since. I happen to have some fabulous pictures from a photographer for promos for her final art project.

I put together two routines based on the director's recommendations and expert advise. I should clarify, I am NOT a strong dancer. I am not a strong performer. I am not very graceful. But what I learned about burlesque in my research and preparation for performing is that it is a combination of four things: stripping, dance, comedy, and entertainment. As long as I could do those things and make an audience feel entertained, I would be a success.

The first routine was to "Stronger" by Britney Spears. It was a song and dance routine I had done in high school with a pair of friends. I don't know how or why, but I remember a lot of that performance. I rehearsed that number for weeks leading up to the performance. I wrote out dance notes, rehearsed in my living room, and included a chair tip-and-fall stunt. I got pretty good at the tip-and-fall.

My second performance was to "Safety Dance" by Men Without Hats. The inspiration for that one was 'The Evolution of Dance' video. I was going to do a bunch of different classic dance moves to the song.

Show night!

I arrive and I actually know one of the other amateur performers that night. It was a comfort. I had a lot of friends coming to cheer me on.

Something happens to your mind and body when you haven't been on stage in (mentally counts) ten years. I felt sweat in places I didn't know could sweat. I wore my Fitbit and watched my heart race the entire night.

I am the third performer up and the second competitor. I am queasy with nerves. Within seconds into "Stronger" I attempt my first jump onto the chair.

If it's not clear by the look on my face, I did not stick the landing on the chair.

But it's not how you start. It's how you proceed. It's how you finish. I was there. I had done the hardest part. I got on stage. All I had to do was perform for the next three and a half minutes...and get almost naked. That's the easy part, right?

I keep going. I get into my routine. I am scared shitless. But I am living for these cheers. I hear the song. I remember the choreography.

This is it. This is your time to shine!

What...what are you doing with your face?

Are you dying, Tinka? Smile you dumb-ass! What is that pose? That posture?

See, this is why you are supposed to practice in front of mirrors and record your rehearsals. So you don't do this garbage. *face palm*

*UGH!* Just hurry up and get naked. That will be less embarrassing. Your friends did not come from all over the metro to see you dance. They didn't come to see your bejeweled sports bra. They came to see your boobs and your butt.

Better. Look, there's even money on the floor now! Keep going. Do your big stunt!

Nope. Didn't work. Oh, that's not a good face. That's not graceful. That's a lot of sweat.

Alright, Tinka. Moment of truth. This is the big reveal. This is the moment you were waiting for; the moment you were hoping to get the reaction you wanted from the crowd.

*Screaming laughter.* No one will ever look at me and googly-eyes the same way ever again after seeing me do jumping-jacks.

Double-down and RUN!

It's working! Finish strong!

You did it. Performing has never felt this good, scary, terrible, sickening, incredible, sweaty, and fulfilling.

Now you have another performance to prepare for...

Shit.

I am not nearly as prepared for 'Safety Dance' as you were for 'Stronger' and you...were not very prepared.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

Better. That's a better face. You look like less of a cluster-fuck. You can do this!

...Okay. That's not a great face. But you're twistin' alright.

Aaaaand that's the face of somebody three eight-counts in who just forgot the order of the rest of their routine.

Commit! And try to make it look good!

Yes. This is going the way this is supposed to go. Keep telling yourself that, even though you forgot all your steps. They have no idea. I'm not in complete denial or anything.

...

...

...

Wasn't I supposed to take my clothes off?

...Yep!

Take them off fast! The song's almost over! Clothes are flying, and so is the money!

I'm going to regret using duct tape, aren't I?

-Two Minutes Later-

*RIPS SKIN OFF*

I'm not crying. That's more sweat!

Stage call! Who's going to win?!

There are five competing. I make the top THREE.

Alas, I did not win. The woman in the center did. Loulla Mae. I never got to see her dance. That always bummed me out.

My friends tell me I got the most applause, that the crowd was the loudest for me, that I should have won. But that's okay. I was not ready. I was vastly under-prepared for this performance.

I'll do better.

...Next month.

See you in Part 2.