Mistresses of the Wardrobe

A full class last night with a wealth of wardrobe triumphs and tribulations:

• the kind of black patent stilt heels that are clearly designed to be worn just from the limo to bed;
• the Sparkly Bra Pixie triumphant in her Wonder Woman burlesque outfit;
• cute corsets; 
• sequinned knickers;
• miles of be-stockinged leg;
• and, in amongst them all, me with an enormous ladder hurtling down my tights from my a*se, making me look like I might be better off operating at the cheaper end of the market.

 Ah well.

On the upside, our troupe of showgirls looked gorgeous, stepping proudly as one around their chair and into a wriggle, and tackling the new moves with aplomb.

All this and some lovely girly conversations about the wonder of bras; the wisdom of corsets; and whether the perfect burlesque knicker really exists.

What's not to like?

Yours, be-fripperied to the max,

Burlicious x

Back in the saddle

My, but it was good to be back with the showgirl posse last night, dancing our delectable routine to  "Fever". This one's a demure little thing - all coy glances and "catch me" back views.

Our beauties took to it like showgirls to diamonds, mastering the slide step and managing the first graceful mount of the chair (no, it's not what you're thinking. Shame on you!) without looking too terrified. Hurrah!

Next week, we'll up the temperature a bit with the gorgeous thing that is the over-the-chair backbend.

Sigh.

It has to be said that the female form in all its infinite variety is a beautiful thing.

You go, girls - you're looking great!

Yours, back in harness and loving it,

Burlicious x

Cool moves, hot beer

Off we went on Saturday to dance at the birthday party of one of our beautiful showgirls. Dressed in our finest we gave a delighted audience in a packed wine bar three delicious routines.

We're now old hands at this "intimate little venue" game and deftly avoided the tables groaning with food, the low ceilings and the nervous crowd of standing spectators. It's always a pleasure to watch the ones at the front shuffle back nervously as the dance takes us right up to them, a glint of showgirl mischief in our eye.

Unusually, this time it wasn't the Sparkly Bra Pixie's clothes that deserted her - it was the corset of the voluptuous Jules that made a determined break for it. As I re-laced her into her modesty, it was pointed out to me that I was missing a trick as there were at least twenty men in the audience who would gladly have paid for the pleasure of doing this simple task.

"Ooh," said a nice gentleman when we had finished dancing, "suddenly my lager's gone quite warm."

Exactly.

Yours, raising the temperature on a wintry Easter,

Burlicious x