Well after my very busy day I had to nanna nap before my performance that night. Rock and Roll, I know, but this particular event is always on very late and I knew I would be flagging if I didn't get some rest in. There's nothing less attractive than a sluggish dancer!
Die Freche Muse is already a favourite night of mine, I wrote about it in a previous post 'A midsummer night's dream'. Stepping into this secret London location is like stepping back in time, into a time I belong to. It's fairly unusual for me to be the only performer in the dressing room and I found it quite unusual not to be squeezing alongside a few other girls in front of the mirror.
There were more performers in later in the evening but I had great and good intentions of performing early and getting back to the station for the first train of the morning to Brighton (I told you it was a late show). Did these great and good intentions come to pass. Not quite.
I was performing Living Doll without my big satin gift box and I'd had to do a quick bit of choreography that week to fill in some of the time I would usually spend getting out of the box. Thankfully it worked very well and it was actually quite nice not to be squeezed into a confined space at the start of my act!
I bumped into Nick von Fiction who was at the last one and who also did some pictures for the LustReality show Striplite back when I first started doing burlesque. Nick got a couple of nice pictures which I'll pop up on the website as soon as I have a chance.
After my act I managed to catch a few other performers and when I wandered over to the Baron to collect my wages he was very insistent I stay on for the after party.
'No, no, no' I said. 'I must get the first train home.'
'Have another glass of champagne.' he said and dragged me over to the bar for another Bellini.
Well, I can't say it was hard to convince me! I rarely get to stick around and enjoy the party at any show and I was in the mood to enjoy the ambiance of this 20s-30s evening, all the way into the not so wee hours of the morning.
Black and white silent expressionist films play on one wall of the room while the guests dance to the sounds of the jazz band, and clusters of party goers lounge on the armchairs amongst the paintings and lamps while a singer croons in German with a voice like Ella Fitzgerald.
Another dancer came out, Isis, who freestyle danced to the piano players hot jazz in a tiny, fringed outfit and ended up with nothing but her g-string and the piano players hat to cover her modesty.
At one point I spoke to a woman who does clowning. Not the horrid red nose and big shoes kind of clowns that freak me out but a small, very flexible, very expressive woman who was also an impressive dancer. She had a little tip to give me about street performance, but that one I'm keeping to myself.
In fact I met so many people I can't remember all their names which is annoying as they were all such fascinating people.
Ultimately I didn't end up getting home till 8:30am the next morning, with a few secrets, a few more gigs lined up and dreams of 1920s bright young things bopping around in my head. Oh boy but it was worth it.
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