This happens once a year. It makes Christmas seem like the first day of school. Your birthday like a pap smear. For one evening only, tomorrow night, the planets change course and rotate around the supernova of T&A that is the ‘Superstars of Burlesque.’ Nothing like this happens in Chicago. Ever. And if you’re a burlesque geek like me, this is your comic-con. Only instead of Patrick Stewart and Bruce Campbell, you have Indigo Blue and Dirty Martini. Roxi D’Lite. Julie Atlas Muz. Tigger! Kalani Kokonuts. Trixie Little and Evil Hate Monkey. Hot Toddy. The Stage Door Johnnies. Murray Hill. (No, I’m not finished yet…) The Chicago Starlets. And Michelle L’amour. These are the title holders. The heavy weights. It will be like seeing Bettie Page, Sophia Loren, Antonio Banderas, and the entire cast of True Blood perform in a Bob Fosse version of 9 1/2 Weeks. It’s that much fabulous sex appeal.
I would be pumped about this show if I were just an audience member, but I have the added thrill of stage kittening the show. I’ll be decked out in my kitten gear, running out between acts to scoop up flung corsets, nylons, and whatever else these guys can throw off of their bodies. It’s a little nerve-racking, but I always love stage kittening. It’s the bizarro version of being a dresser for theatre, which I did for years. And as over that as I was when I left it, there remained a good-sized chunk of me that missed the adrenaline injection of live theatre. And this is way better than working Othello for the 32nd time. (Maybe if Desdemona had taken off her top things would have turned out differently for her.)
And on Saturday, I’m taking workshops with Dirty Martini, Tigger!, and Julie Atlas Muz. If this can’t help me step up my burlesque game, I don’t know what can.