Golden Legends Championship Challenge

I'm like a song by the Go-Go's for most of the goings on of the Golden Legends Championship Challenge-- my lips are sealed. I can't share the content of the mentoring between me and Matt Finish. I can't share strategies or smack talk the other contestants. (Why would I want to smack talk them? I know many of them and look forward to meeting the others.)

But, I want you to get excited about the event and you're used to me sharing my journeys with you.

Here's what I can share:

• I've been working on this new costume for months. I have four more pieces to build and one to complete. I'm far better at managing big projects now than I was in college. I knew this would take work and I'm proud of my progress. This costume is gorgeous. You only get glimpses of it on my Facebook and Instagram for now.
• I'm working on addressing my shortcomings as a performer while leaning into my strengths. My first ever burlesque performance was nine years ago, and I'm months away from wrapping my eighth complete year as a burlesque professional. It takes time, successes and failures to really sort out who you are and what you want.
• I'm really excited about the ways I've challenged myself in this new number.
• It helps to have other people on your team. Even an old broad like me benefits from having a sounding board. Mr. Snapper is an awesome sounding board but sometimes I need a different viewpoint.
• Competitions should serve as motivation to be something greater than you are. The chance at a prize is exciting but I'm in this industry for the long haul. I'm pushing to create a damn fine act that will delight audiences in ways they never expected. The next challenge will be to make a different act that is this rich.
• I'm really looking forward to returning to New Orleans. I haven't been there since 2010. If I lived closer, I'd visit with more frequency. It's a delightful place.

Two other things I can share about it.

1. Travel costs money. I'm not asking for donations but I am selling stuff to make money. Visit my website and see what I have to offer right now. I'm also teaching corsetry in Los Angeles before I leave for the event. If you know someone who wants to learn to make a corset, send them my way to sign up for class. Every sale helps. :)
2. Events cost money. GLCC is raising funds through sponsorship and vending. They have sponsorship packages for as little as $45. You can check out details here. There are several package levels.

That's about all I can share for now. If you're in New Orleans on October 21st, I'd love to entertain you.

From 2014 to 2016

Photo by Madison Hurley Photography

I didn't do a recap last year. A lot of stuff happened in my world, and I just wasn't feeling it. The challenge with doing a recap for two years is that my gig book is hidden from my overgrown puppy. Let's take a look at what I've been able to sort out for 2014:

• I had fewer performances -- just 32 in 25 shows. This tallies up to 405 performances for the career. Not too shabby. This is an estimate, because of the hidden gig book.
• I taught at the Great Burlesque Expo in Cambridge again. I also taught in Hot Springs, and Mr. Snapper and I taught together in Dallas.
• Fewer festivals for me in 2014, which I'll get to what's happening with that later. I did the Great Burlesque Festival and the Hollywood Fringe Festival. I also performed in San Diego for Comic-Con weekend.
• Tour stops in Dallas, Hot Springs, San Diego, and Fresno.
• I created a few new acts, like my California Sunset number and the first version of my Poison Ivy. I performed in a group number with Chocolate Box Burlesque, and Mr. Snapper and I co-hosted their show together. We also created our Goonies duet.

I had knee issues in 2014, and I had a wicked case of anemia that knocked me out of a couple shows. My sweet Doodlebug passed in August 2014, and that took quite an emotional toll. When my dog Holly passed in 2006, I stopped playing guitar for the most part. (I pick it up every nine months or so.) It was a rough time in my house. I did adopt little Coca Carter, who is a hellbeast. I love this dog, but she is a bundle of enthusiasm with teeth.

Photo by SH Photo

My 2015 was curious. I had far fewer performances, which I'll get into why as I break down the year:

• Fewest performances in a year since I started this stuff in 2007. I estimate I performed sixteen times in twelve shows. This makes it 421 in eight years.
• I taught some sewing classes, including dress making and corset construction. I enjoy sewing and become better at sewing by teaching. I made some incredible garments this year as well.
• When I first started doing burlesque, networking was easier. I met people at craft nights and at shows. We'd spend some time together, brainstorm together, and I had bookings coming out of my ears. A lot of those people have retired, and a lot of new performers have popped up. Now it seems everyone wants an audition video of every act you may want to perform, even if you've worked with them in the past. While I agree that burlesque is business, I was missing the community aspect that was there when I signed up; I also missed the networking. I hosted a brunch for the community and started recruiting people to host craft nights. I started teaching community classes for a low price to help performers fill in gaps in their education. I may not have my community ideal yet, but it's not going to improve unless I work on it.
• No festivals in 2015. I did screen videos for Hollywood Burlesque Festival, which was educational.
• I performed in Vegas, Dallas on two visits, Houston, Little Rock, and Hot Springs. Our schedules were so full I only got to teach in Hot Springs. These trips are always packed with activity.
• I created some new acts. I have an act that's built with LEDs that needs a little reworking. I rebuilt Poison Ivy, making the act a bit more couture. I created a dressing and stripping number. (It feels silly to call it a "reverse strip," because that's just getting dressed.) I hosted a nudist comedy show twice. I also rebuilt my mermaid tail for Burlesqueland.

I had two major things working against me in 2015 (besides that video thing): car and work. My car was at 220,000 miles when I finally replaced it in November. I'd lived without a car payment since right after I started burlesque, and I wanted to make it until this spring with the old car. This meant I didn't submit my acts for shows that are driving distance if I couldn't justify renting a car. My car overheated on my way to an October gig in Ventura. The last straw was when it barely made it from the city to the San Fernando Valley on a weekend. I flew to Dallas the following weekend, and bought a car the day I returned. I have a small car payment, but I can now drive to gigs outside of Los Angeles.

The other major issue working against me was my job. At the end of 2014, I cut back my days at the office so I could work on commissions. This meant that the three days I spent at work per week had more financial value for me, and more production importance for the company. A co-worker quit at the end of 2014 and no replacement was hired, which meant taking off or leaving early for Friday gigs was very unlikely. I spent 2015 wishing for a new situation where I could miss Fridays for festivals or leave work in the early afternoon so I wouldn't feel rushed or stressed for the few Friday night gigs I got. A week ago I got an offer for the perfect work-from-home job for me, which means I can build my own schedule and work on the road. I can do Monday, Wednesday, and Friday night gigs without having to tart myself up at my desk if the time allowed. I feel less like Cinderella.

Photo by Modern Noir

So what's in store for 2016? Persistence. Being the best me. Strength. Lots of rehearsals. Maybe even some producing. Turning 40 and celebrating it. Building my community. Going to Texas a couple times and Arkansas a couple times and hopefully other places. Taming the hellbeast. Getting some stuff published, even if it's DIY. Learning. Living.

Make It So

When I first started studying burlesque in 2007, I wasn't connected to the Los Angeles community. The internet wasn't as huge as it is today, so finding shows and teachers was a challenge. My main resource at the time was Jo Weldon's website, which led me to studying with her and Indigo Blue at burlesque camp that same year. As I waited for camp to start, the internet found a couple more classes for me to join in Los Angeles. The word-of-mouth of my instructors sent me to shows to meet local performers and producers; the internet was pretty useless for it at that point. The seasoned instructors, the performers I met when I started performing at the very beginning of 2008 -- those were the things that welcomed me to the group. A community isn't formed by one person.

Back in the glory days of 2008, I danced in every show that would have me. There were a few free shows, plenty of shows that paid far less than a tank of gas, and a few that paid for most of my costume. (My costumes then were far less elaborate than they are now. Of course, I would jump to do every theme show that came my way. A lot of times it was like costuming myself for a glittery scene for acting class.) We also had craft nights, AKA "stitch and bitch" sessions. Someone would host each month. The guests would bring food and drinks to share. We'd carry in our latest costume project or pitch in to help someone else who was working against a crazy deadline. We would also brainstorm, network, and book shows. These potential co-workers would see how easy you were to get along with socially, how hard you worked on your costumes, and how your mind worked in a brainstorming session. So many themed shows grew out of these craft nights.

Many of us tried to keep the craft nights going. I hosted in a theater once, and many people offered up their homes. (I'm horribly allergic to cats, which kept me from attending those hosted in kitty homes.) It seemed like the craft nights were fewer and farther apart. I couldn't host because my dogs were jerks. (We also don't have the seating to entertain.) I'd miss out on the casting chats in the craft nights that did happen because of allergies. The craft nights then became selective gatherings I'd read about on Facebook. Three to five people who were in a theme show together needed to rush to get their costumes done so they'd post that they were having a craft night for those people. It wasn't the same. It wasn't as inviting to brand new performers. It wasn't a breeding ground for multiple producers to create new shows. The craft nights as I knew them seemed to die out.

I've been in this game professionally for over seven years now. My costumes are better. My acts are more polished. I hire choreographers when I need them. I don't dance in every show just to get experience. I also don't go to as many shows since I'm spending my money on my acts. I don't submit for shows when I don't think I have something ready or in my queue that I feel would fit the producer's needs. I'm not as involved in whatever community exists, or at least it doesn't feel that way. And where are the craft nights?

I'm tired of the disconnected feeling. I love the brainstorming and the creative breeding ground that was craft night. If we're calling this thing a community, let's make it a community. Let's attach faces and personalities to internet thumbnails. Let's work together. Maybe we won't have scores of comments on a thread of show name theft if we know one another in person. It's a lot harder to dick someone over when you know the other person who is unwittingly at the end of your dick.

I miss things about the glory days, so I'm doing what I can to bring it back. I can't just sit back and bitch about it without taking action. This Sunday I'm hosting a brunch for my community. Everyone who wants to eat at this one is paying a whopping $10 for the catering, and people with allergies or dietary restrictions don't have to pay for anything. I'm paying for the space rental and incidentals because I want this. I want to connect people. I want to be productive. I want to eat.

If I fail to generate more sense of community in my "community," it won't be because I did nothing about it. If I don't jumpstart the craft nights with this event, it won't be because I did no more than sit around and bitch to my dogs about the good ol' days. If you want something to happen, you have to take action, and I have to take my own advice.