Rouging our knees

We're preparing our talented troupe for our spot in the Christmas Variety Show. The routine is coming together nicely, if we say so ourselves. Despite the fact that we'll be minus a seasoned showgirl or two on the night (we'll miss you!), we do have some delicious new girls getting ready to dance with us for the first time.

We can't wait for the first time that they experience how brilliant it is to take what we do in class (minus the giggling; the colourful language; and the costume compromises) on to the stage to dance in public.

Last night's incautious packing and cool (for the wrong reasons) hall meant that we were a slightly motley crew in driving shoes; cardis; and leggings alongside our corsets and fripperies. We may have looked odd, but, boy, did the dancing look good!

Hatcha, ladies, and WHOOPEE!! ... you're getting the hang of the moves a treat. Just remember, straight back, t*ts foremost, and smile at your lovely audience. Trust me, they'll be smiling delightedly back
at you!

Yours, loving what Santa is bringing us for Christmas,

Burlicious x

Mr Banks would have been proud

Last night's class was fabulous - fifteen showgirls; fifteen pink Disney cartoon character brollies; a whole lot of arm waving in an enclosed space; and no visit to A&E. That nice Mr Banks of Mary Poppins fame would have been proud of us and our brolly management skills.

Our brollies are not, I grant you, quite the smartly furled black number that he stepped out briskly with every morning as he went to work. On the other hand, he never quite mastered the art of popping the brolly open through his legs or whizzing it open as he flung it casually over a shoulder. I think we trump him there.

Of course, there were a few mishaps - catching the brolly spokes in the bottom of a corset; bending the poor little things noticeably out of shape (showgirls are surprisingly strong); and the odd nip in the bum caused by a failure to close the brolly BEFORE bringing it back through the legs. However, all in all, it went like a dream. And, oh, the joyous sound of all those brollies opening crisply at once. We've said it before, but it really is like hearing and seeing a flock of pink flamingos take off at once. Magical.

Yours, on our way to the brolly mending shop,

Burlicious x

Oooh Cinders, you SHALL go to the ball!

Into our glass slippers and off we skipped to an audition last week, dancing for a chance to appear in a Christmas variety show.

Coming as we did fresh from something else, we were rather more casually attired than is our showgirl habit. Ah, what the old hands tell you about never wearing anything that you haven't previously danced in is sound advice.

Unaccustomed to dancing in my yoga trousers, in no time at all I managed to "step tap" the heel of my right shoe into the flowing trouser material of the left leg, producing a sort of inescapable leg manacle of lycra. Thus hobbled, I tottered gamely on towards the back of the stage, ankles tied firmly together, hoping that I would be able to free myself by the time we got to the "ta-dah!" that is our "jump the legs wide apart" move. For a moment there, I was, it has to be said, the Les Dawson or the Dick Emery of burlesque (younger readers may need to Google this to appreciate fully the elegance of the moment!).

Despite this frankly rather rubbish display of our skills, our judges were kind enough to invite us to rustle up a shimmy of showgirls and to take the stage as part of December's show. We can't wait! If there's one thing better than dancing with our showgirls in class, it's seeing them perform confidently when they dance with us in public.

Yours, planning outfits already,

Burlicious x