Take a moment to stop being surprised.
I've seen burlesque thanks to the good offices of my cousin Max (Amy and Goose to family, Maximy and a few other nicknames to me) and her circle of friends. Nowadays Max works for a woman named Paula in a landscaping business -- twice I've accompanied them to Bainbridge Island (where a man was arrested Tuesday for wielding a sword and saying he was "hunting werewolves and chuds"; sadly, I missed that) -- and Paula's other work includes putting on burlesque shows. Paula hosted a show Tuesday night at The Triple Door in downtown Seattle*, beginning with a cheeky documentary called Burlesque Undressed and continuing with live performances.
You know I like The Pretty. Much of The Pretty was displayed Tuesday night, both on the stage and in the audience, and of course I appreciated that. But what especially struck me, and happily so, was the nice reminder of how it's possible to convey so many different moods from the seemingly simple act of taking your clothes off. One feather-dancing routine in the movie was almost wistful; I practically wanted to hug the dancer afterward. (Don't worry, I was well-behaved and didn't hug any performers in person!) And a lot of it is funny, which is a HUGE needed thing. Sexuality should be fun. Failing that, it should at least look fun (plenty of those burlesque outfits are definitely uncomfortable, but hey! incentive for getting most of them off!). There was plenty of laughter and winking-ness in the theater, and much applause. Good times. And it was warm enough for everybody. (I worry about whether people getting naked or semi-naked for their work. More evidence I was a Jewish mother in a past life?) It's a job, I know from people who've done it, and I should know that just in general, but the point is to make people (from the dancers to the audiences) feel good. Burlesque can do that. Dancing in general can do that. Good, because I should dance more. I should not do burlesque. At all. Unless any future significant others enjoy me doing so. In private.
And that was one more look into my several days in Seattle recently. Cool things occur to me there.
"Burlesque" is a word that seems to demand having an exclamation point. Okay. Burlesque!
* Here is the Triple Door's page that advertised the event.