Avoiding the double entendre

Oh my word, but it was sticky and steamy in our little hall last night. Despite the fact that we're dancing a cool, collected routine full of poise and disdain at the moment, the temperature rose steadily.

The current routine doesn't require a boa (thankfully), nor does it require gloves. A steel-boned corset is not an asset either as we swivel on the chair seat from one side to the other and then flop deliciously over an outstretched leg.

However, knickers are de rigueur. Which is why it was such a surprise when the Voluptuous Jules peeled hers off and marched them towards the front of the class before discarding them. Until then, her much-admired posterior had been clad in a cheeky little pair of knickers with a large cat's face on the back, complete with a pair of pink 3D ears standing proud.

"His little face was sticking to the seat," she explained airily.

You would be proud of us. Nobody went for the obvious "pussy" jokes. Mind you, many showgirls were too busy trying to breathe in their corset; untangle their fishnets from their corset fasteners; or re-assemble their shoes to have a spare breath for commentary.

We do love a wardrobe malfunction.

Yours, wrestling with our undies,

Burlicious x

Rough language, smooth showgirls

Last night we re-launched our beautiful, subtle, seductive routine to "Temptation". (Don't worry, those of you regulars who missed it, you'll be able to catch up next week, we promise).

Now, as we have mentioned before, there is often a significant mismatch between the amount of instruction that we would like to give about a particular move as we dance, and the time available to us beat by beat to give it. This is why the instruction: "arch back, thrust chest forward and, at the same time, look at the audience" has become shortened to a shout of: "TITS!"

So apt is this prompt that showgirls who last danced this routine more than a couple of years ago all shouted "Tits!" in proper Pavlovian fashion last night when we reached this part of the routine for the first time.

Ah, it does we Burlicious Three good to know that  our genteel words of wisdom are seared into their little showgirl souls! We'll have 'em tango flicking in their sleep next.

Yours, washing our mouth out with champagne,

Burlicious x

PS: the photo is the fabulous line up of the fantastic 1940s party girls who invited us to play a couple of weeks ago.

Feathering nests

Apologies for the silence during the last couple of weeks, Dear Reader - despite it being half term, we've been rather busy.

We performed at a lovely birthday celebration on Sunday. Eleven gorgeous women, all in their 1950s-themed finest, dancing around the garden to one of our showgirl numbers, before trotting off to a vintage cafe for afternoon tea. Now, if that sounds impossibly refined, it might be worth knowing that the previous night they had been making cocktails at a nightclub and living it up until the small hours, and so some of them were just a teeny bit fragile on Sunday.

Still, a glass of fizz; a feather boa; and a bit of dancing and posing with us and they were good to go. And the local birds (feathered) were delighted with the high class array of feathers left strewn around the garden. It's nice to do our bit for nature when we can.

We finished a routine last night and so we'll be starting a new one next Wednesday. Although both are tango style routines, they're very different - the outgoing one is a bit of contemptuous stamping and some delicious thrashing around whilst the new one is smoky, sexy and very seductive. Look forward to seeing you there, showgirls.

And we're setting up the next performances as we speak - another WI meeting (we can't wait!) and another birthday party (shhh. You know who you are! :-) ).

Yours, delighted to entertain,

Burlicious x