Here's what it's like to try burlesque dancing for the first time
decides to love the body she’s in and tries burlesque dancing this summer.
I’m first to arrive at the dance studio — intrigued by Miss Laura LaVelle’s Facebook post saying: ‘Forget the Summer Body, Love your body. Cardio the fun and positive way!’
The Limerick bombshell, who is barefoot and small-framed in a very short red A-line frock, greets me warmly. Dressed very 1940s/50s with a slash or red lippy, fluttery eyelashes, and her black fringe in a bouncy roll, I feel like I’ve just met a star of the silver screen.
Meanwhile, I’m makeup-free in cargo pants, having come straight from having to take one of the kids to the doctor.
Six more people file in, and I’m relieved to see we all look like regular women, nobody is dressed flamboyantly, we’ve all played it safe; only one person is wearing a skirt — a gypsy skirt past her knees.
The music is French schmoozy stuff; it shifts to a bit of Glen Miller and then Doris Day singing ‘Perhaps, Perhaps Perhaps’ in her sexy, dulcet tones.
“This is a safe place, leave all your worries at the door,” Miss LaVelle tells us, “There’s no nudity, this is somewhere to have fun, it’s about getting in touch with your body,” the goddess insists, as she slips on some gorgeous, Betty Grable-type green heels.
There are a few giggles and nervous glances, but it’s too late to escape now and besides, we’re here to have fun.
Under Miss LaVelle’s relaxed tuition, we start off easy. First we walk towards the mirror, then we strut, we laugh, we whoop encouragement for each other — the energy is lovely.
We learn some poses, ‘the apple’ and the ‘surprise’, it’s all very fun and flirty.
When we’ve ‘relaxed into it a bit’, out come the props — feathers galore! Feather fans and what you might do with them from flapping butterfly wings to the jerking tail of a bird.
Now we try the feather boas, snake-like around our necks, we let them drop seductively off one shoulder, we trail them around our bodies and pull them upwards towards our necks from one foot — slowly, so slowly, everything is slow.
Halfway through we’re deemed ready for long, black gloves. We pop the fingers with one hand or tug them off with our teeth; we even take them off with our knees — yes, that one even surprised me!
More strutting in front of the mirror with everything on — gloves, boa and fans, and our shoes — I feel a bit like a Christmas tree.
Next, it’s freestyle time.
We work our own rhythm and style in groups of twos and threes. The effect is both hilarious and freeing.
In the next class, Miss LaVelle says we’re going to learn how to take off stockings. My lapsed Catholic girl heart is exploding. I’ve a feather boa at home from an old Halloween costume.
I’ve visions of vacuuming dressed like Freddie Mercury with heels, stockings, and feather duster in the ‘I Want to Break Free’ video.
Surprisingly, despite the slow pace of everything, the next day my body feels like it did a workout, it feels tighter. I attempt my ‘homework’. I pull down the office blind and try to remember ‘the apple’ and ‘the surprise’ with some Big Band/swing music blaring from the computer.
Class two comes around; this time I’m in a skirt, 1940s pink, suede wedges with peek toes, a sequin bag and some must-have lippy.
Laura meanwhile has decided to wear her hair up in a messy bun, is makeup-free and is wearing a light, flowery, beach playsuit, because, “this class is all about loving your body whatever way it is at the time and because confidence in yourself is sexiness.”
So we’re back in front of the mirror attempting stockings — hold ups really. I won’t lie; my heart pounds. Stockings are the trickiest yet — their removal is a bit like taking off gloves, slowly unroll them with your thumbs, slide them past your shins until they become like gum stretched at the end of your toes then ping them off and throw them to the four winds.
A partner stands closeby to offer a hand.
Stocking lessons over — there’s more strutting, it’s 110% sass now, we do refresher gloves and boas from the week before, with hip bumps and figure-of-eights.
By this stage, we’re allin an ‘ah feck it’ mood. We’re here, LaVelle tells us, “to be in touch with our sexuality, to find our body confidence to be whoever we are in this moment and not who anyone tells us to be.”
Afterwards, we sit in a circle and fess up why we’re here: “For fun, for confidence, to prove we could do it, because it’s different because it gives you a high afterwards.”
Does it make me think differently about my body? I think I’ve definitely become a bit more playful and that’s always good.
Classes are over for the summer. Our teacher is bringing burlesque to the west as she goes on a Wild Atlantic Cabaret tour.
My verdict: if you’re in the vicinity, ditch the set dancing and go see this fabulous dynamo.
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