We have a lovely move in which first one wrist, then the other, is crisply and deliberately wrapped in a single long evening glove, giving the appearance of satin handcuffs holding the wrists close together. We use that move in the current routine, holding the wrapped wrists low and in front of the body.
"When you're doing that," says the Voluptuous Jules helpfully, "keep the arms straight and hold the hands a bit away from the body so they can be seen. You don't want them to get lost in your... in your..."
"Fanny." the Sparkly Bra Pixie says, helpfully completing the sentence for her.
Class, small as it was last night, erupts. There is then a giggly conversation about the exact picture that this warning conjures up.
Add to this the soundtrack for part of the routine of me skipping about behind the troupe, releasing the odd; "oh bugger" as I mess up the steps in new and interesting ways, and you pretty much get the picture.
And yet, despite ourselves, the routine is starting to look really good. Cracking job, showgirls! You do us proud!
Yours, cuffed wrists well clear of the danger zone,
Burlicious x
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