Burly Night!

[parasitegirl]

aMy Saturday night was stranger than yours. Every once in a while I experience something that I know I simply cannot capture in words. I can try, but I know my words won’t be up to the task. Saturday night was one of those nights.

 

Henna had invited me out to see Safi perform Burlesque. Henna heads back to America in a little less than 2 weeks, so her quality time is precious and well worth skipping class.

 

We met up in Akasaka, a tourist area that neither of us really knows well. I waited in front of the Kanarimon gates, watching the tourists (Japanese and other) taking their pictures and displaying a variety of amusing fashions. I was in my contacts, make-up, pulled back hair, a black dress and a pink shawl, a look somewhere between Frida and Flamenco-dancer-after-hours. I had my dance cards and my TFN flyers and figured it’d be worth looking like a performer of some sort.

 

Henna was sporting jeans, a white mother-earthy-beginning to show shirt, and her increasingly impressive rack. She’s got that whole glowing preggers thing going on.

 

She’d never seen burlesque and I’ve only seen it once (in a vaudeville/cabaret night in Seattle, good shit! There was BD and Burly that night, but both presented and appreciated as totally different creatures).

 

The venue, The Samurai, was a tiny bar with a tiny upstairs. The upstairs had red couches with that questionable “spilled on, lived on, fucked on” look that I associate with college. The floor was dotted in floor cushions as well. The whole place reminded me of art school performance venues and was about the size of a dorm room. They’d set out assorted chocolates, Doritos, and nuts. We were the first to get there and we ordered our drinks and food: gin and tonic, grapefruit juice, onion rings, fries without processed cheese.

 

We were greeted by a chubby Japanese woman, performer Jenny (Jelly? Jerry?) Typhoon. Ms. Typhoon was wearing a bra top of blue glitterdot with mardi gras bead swag, a two-panel glitter dot skirt, and fringed/shwagged blue under-things. Ms. Typhoon would be our evening’s MC, primary entertainer, and all-around overwhelming force of nature. Ms. Typhoon asked us what brought us there and we mentioned Safi (who, Henna has performed with in her Belly Dancer mode and I have encountered a few times but never formally met.) Ms. Typhoon told us that Safi and another dancer would be performing bellydance.

 

Bellydance? Really?

 

Well, she admitted, 90% bellydance and 10%...this…(at which point she made the internationally understood gesture for twirling nipple-tassels in opposite directions.)

 

Ms. Typhoon was friendly, with a touch of jaded performer…kinda Bette Middleresque. She chatted people up, flopped down on couches for more chat, swigged from her beer, busted out a few dance moves, and generally hung out in a manner that suggested she was wearing, well, normal lounge-able street clothing. Henna was surprised by the lack of cover-up. I suggested that perhaps the glitter dot panels counted as a cover-up in this very relaxed Burly place.

 

Safi came out to meet us, chat and bit. We talked about Henna’s breasts (seriously, breasts are a re-occuring motif in this entry, it’s not your imagination) and I gave Safi my card. Safi is very interested in the idea of custom made costumes because she’s larger chested than I am and that makes costume buying in Japan near impossible. She then went back to change some more.

 

We ate and watched people come in:

One other Gaijin: male, good Japanese skills and Japanese friends. Lone chubby Japanese man who knew no-one. Skinny Japanese man who looked pretty drunk and who kept trying to awkwardly dance with Ms. Typhoon. Serious Japanese girl reading book…other Japanese men…and then our soon to be good friends, the family of four….followed by a gaijin boy with Japanese girlfriend.

 

Now, I don’t know who brings a 3 year-old boy and a 1 year-old girl to a burly show, but I am glad that they did. They were mostly well-mannered children and they brought Henna and I as much entertainment value as the show itself. The 3 year old started hitting the chocolate hard, until his mouth, face, hands, and the back of his mother’s shirt, was a glorious blend of cheap chocolate. He’d look over at us, grin and show us his fingers and we’d gesture how best he really should be sucking the chocolate off his fingers (instead of just touching his mom’s shirt.) The little girl watched us with fascination…unblinking…seeing to the core of our souls.

 

Henna watched her future as she noted the overwhelming amount of stuff you have to haul around when you take kids out.

 

The bar owner started bringing out free food for all of us: free octopus balls and free fried meat stuffs…these were carried to all of us by the two French maid mimes. Yes. Two Japanese women in French maid costumes. They both had full white face. One had red lips, red cheeks, red eye-makeup, red hair streaks and red laces on her bodice, the other was all blue, with the addition of a blue colored tongue…and they both had tap-shoes. Screw burly, who takes children to an event with tap-dancing mime-maids? That’s the stuff of nightmares, therapy, and future art school applications.

 

Ms. Typhoon announced the line-up of the night. Every once in a while she would bust out an exciting shoulder-shimmy or hip grind to accent what she was saying, and then…as quickly as the gesture was started….it was back to the serious MC voice. Bellydance Burly first set. “Male performer”, burly and tap entertainment for the second.

 

The owner then gave out a round of free beers (I was given a particularly large free beer and Henna was given a second grapefruit juice).

 

Things were behind schedule and I wondered how much money they could be expecting to make what with the free stuff.

 

The first set started.

 

Fame and Fortune! I said. For indeed Safi was wearing Fame and Fortune, a favorite “my first bedlah” basic coin and fringe gold set most belldancers know. Safi was sporting Fame and Fortune with no skirt. Her partner had a different, but similar, gold set…sans skirt. They both had red feathered fans.

 

We need not talk about how people feel about belly and burly being fused. It is a hot topic and this is a public post. I personally feel that studying one can give you good skills for the other. I think the stage skills and acting of burly can enhance a BD performer’s stage presence, and the muscle control and moves of BD can spice up burly…but that they both loose a little from being deliberately fused. I used to think that Burly could do nothing but gain from a little BD, but I think there are aspects of BD performance that can detract from a Burly performance. If it is too graceful, or the costumes are too BD, I think it takes away from the camp/drama of Burly.

 

The BD costumes sans skirts took away from the burly because they lacked the dramatic flare of being the iconographic costumes / sexy attire that burly really requires. When you start off without pants or skirts there is too little to take off and too little to get into character for. Un-hooking a BD belt to reveal a spangled G string lacks the punch of unzipping/unbuttoning a sexy pencil skirt or tearing away rip-away pants to reveal the same thing.

 

Do I enjoy good Burly? Yeah. Do I feel any need or draw to do burly? Nope.

 

I also realized that belly dancers can also get pretty bruised up and scratched up by costumes and practice, so I advise all BD’ers who burly to do a serious scratch and bruise check and cover-up prior to performing and check for flattering lighting.

 

I spent #2’s solo wanting to rush up and brush the one stray lock of hair that fell down and partly blinded her for most of her performance. I wished to scream “You can acknowledge that hair and brush it away, we’ll still respect you!”

 

Safi was the stronger dancer of the two, hands down, and it was cute and fun…but nothing grand. I think it looked like bellydancers trying burly, but I didn’t really feel like asking people if they thought it was belly or burly. The 3 year-old boy was as entertained by turning around and watching the colored lights being projected as he was watching the sexy ladies. They performed together with the fans, and then as soloists did the strip down to pasties, G string and (insert nipple tassel gesture here).

 

My heart did go out to Safi at one point. When you dance to recorded music there is a special sort of vulnerability that comes from blowing a fuse or something happening to your music…you’re even more vulnerable when you’re in pasties and a g-string.

 

Break time!

 

Cue sketchy owner!

 

So, the Japanese owner comes over, sits down next to me on the couch with his arm sort of around the back of my on the back of the couch…Henno on my other side. He starts using what I think of as smarmy “I’m going to show how international I am and I am pretty sure foreigners can’t speak Japanese” English” style English. Where are we from? Who brought us here.

 

“Friends of Safi, through bellydance.”

 

“So you’re bellydancers.”

“Yes, yes we are” (produce cards because…you never know)

“Ozma! That’s not a real name!”

(indignant) “Yes. It is a real name!” (sure, it’s not MY real name….but…yaknow)

….

“Oh, Safi has a large bust.” (He gestures, incase we don’t understand)

“Yes, she does.”

Indeed, she does. Since we just saw that bust spinning out of control, perhaps it was an appropriate topic…

“You both have large busts.”

Well, yes we do…but…but…who the fuck says that? Conversation no longer appropriate.

….

I think my reply also involved me proclaiming Henna to have lovely breasts due to her pregnant lady status (why? I don’t know, because I hope that skevvy man feels icky about having just talked about a future mother’s bust?) and he didn’t seem to believe me, as if I was telling a joke in poor taste, so I told him he should congratulate her. She’ll be going back home soon, you know, to have her BABY.

 

I kept talking. No need for Henna to have to join in. I switched the conversation to Japanese and pulled rank with my job. No, we do not live in guest houses. NO, we do not want to stay in one of your sketchy guest houses. We have real jobs and real lives and don’t stay in guest houses. I work for your government. I teach your teachers. I read your kanji. Ooooooh, you want to throw a goodbye party for Henna, who doesn’t? Oooooh, if I have an event here I could always stay in your nearby hotel instead of travel all the way home?

 

I suspect that any use of any of his hotel rooms, guest houses, or changing rooms would first involve an intricate search for peep holes and Akihabara’s finest newest hidden cameras. I don’t even know where to buy Lava soap here, so I don’t know what it would take to feel clean again.

 

Ewwwwwww.

 

But he did work the crowd for us. He handsedout my flyers, announcing that these lovely ladies (gestures at us) are bellydancers. The TFN flyers don’t look even slightly burly. He then left us alone.

 

We returned to our friends, the kids. The unblinking mistress of our souls spit up a little and returned to watching us. The boy and I got involved in an intricate game of “I’m not looking at you” “time to show me your tongue” and gesture mimicking (him with his bottle of tea, me with my beer).

 

Um. And then came the stuff I can’t quite find words for.

 

The second act started: the mimes and Ms. Typhoon. It turns out that the blue outfit she’d worn earlier was simply her “hostess” outfit. Now she was dressed like a dandy man…if dandy men wore cheap gray-silver suits and bustiers. Her moustache was the second prop gone wrong. I wanted to scream “mime shaving it off, pull it off, and go! We’ll still respect you!” as she kept trying to get it to stay put.

 

This is where the words spill.

The mimes…they may have been her servants? You know what it’s like to watch something surreal when you don’t know the language? It was like that but there was no language being spoken. They knew one tap-dance step which occasionally was used as an accent. They jokingly mimed…stuff…not very well. He ripped off his dandy pants. They were mimes until the music cued in ? And then they all sang along…sort of? To call it singing you must accept that the lyrics to Whatever Lola Wants are “Whatever Lola wants, Lola gets, bedibediiii badabdaaaaa bedibidie. Badadadadadadadaaaaa bdadadadadadaaaaa. Badda! Badaaaa!” Which, I have to tell you, took Whatever Lola Wants RIGHT off my list of possible songs for TFN. I can’t even remember if he went down to pasties this time. This might have been the time that Ms.Typhoon lurched into the skinny dancing man and made him take off her bra in a way that made me feel unclean. Then He left.

 

There was some sort of Japanese Action song played and the comedy-mime-maids menaced each other with forks? He was a She again in a frilly dress? And there was an English text book and a Bedibedibedibi version of Que Sera Sera. (Que sera sera, bedi bedi bediiii bediiiii. Bababababa be di deeeee) They chased her off.

 

You kinda had to be there?

 

The mimes then started an elaborate act around a medley of songs. I don’t know if mime is even the right word…they couldn’t speak but they could emit noises along with the music. They danced, hit each other, emitted noises, mugged, occasionally the type of noise they emitted changed based on blows to the head? Awww…fuck it. They did it enthusiastically, but in no way did they do any one part of the act particularly well. It was entertaining beyond expectations, but our expectations were low. I often wondered “where does one, or two, get the idea or urge to do…that?”

 

Then Ms Typhoon came out for her last strip tease. Much like you can see baby dancers anticipate moves or show what they struggle with Ms. Typhoon would get this odd “now with the shoulder shimmy” look right before and as she shimmied.

 

Ms.Typhoon did not put on a cover-up for her final thanks and introductions of performers. Occasionally she would punctuate what she was saying with nipple spins. Because she held a mic in one hand, one shoulder was unable to roll to the degree of her free arm, giving her chest spins an alarmingly left-side-dominant spin as she spoke.

 

I’m glad I went with Henna…but frankly I can’t imagine who the hell else WOULD have gone with her and enjoyed it all, and she would have been right to skip it without me. I’ll miss her while she’s gone.

 

We said goodbye to our family, took pictures with Safi and dancer #2 and headed out to the streets of Akasaka to try to recap what it was we’d seen. We couldn’t quite pin down what had been so enjoyable about it, or how one would actually describe it. We did execute some walking shoulder shimmies, tap steps and other salary-man attracting moves as we walked and talked. We realized that nothing could really top what we’d seen and called it a night.

Edited to add:

Comments

[suzycat.livejournal.com]

The mime-maids scare me and I haven't even seen them.

“You both have large busts.”
Well, yes we do…but…but…who the fuck says that? Conversation no longer appropriate.

The Tardlor would totally say that. And then ask if the two of you wanted to go back to his place for a three-way, if he was drunk enough and in the mood. Perhaps it's a Pacific Rim thing.

[parasitegirl.livejournal.com]

And I think that we were both so astounded that Henna never took pictures of the mimes. Remember, these mime-maids are also hyper-japanese-girls.

There should be a "look at us we're busty" photos of Henna, myself, and the two belly/burly girls in my inbox when I get home.

[bluemoonsaga.livejournal.com]

i think to ME the big difference is brassiness. burly needs it to work. if bd has it you come off mean. bd should be sweet.

umm yay bringing kids. of course kids witnessed the coffee table incident.

baby sitting is hard to get ??!!

BOOBS!!!

[suzycat.livejournal.com]

This is interesting to me because obviously you know more about burly than anyone I know. All the tribal fusion girls are doing Indigo imitations that definitely have a touch of burly/showgirl about them, but they don't seem like belly dance because they are a) really jazzy and b) lack any softness and emotional intensity.

If that family was Japanese, they don't really seem to have the same issues about sexuality as we do. I mean, they don't let it all hang out in front of the kiddies per se, so far as I can tell, but it's not a culture that goes "gasp! A salaryman is reading pornographic comics! On the train! Where children can see! Quickly, stop him!"

[parasitegirl.livejournal.com]

I texted Wataguy and he was sort of shocked by the fact kids had been there...but frankly...I'd be more worried about the mime-maids. The Burly girls were soft and silly and the kids seemed just as fixated on random objects as the boobies. If I had kids I'd rather they see goofy soft burly than half the pictures I see in porography newspapers on the train.

[bluemoonsaga.livejournal.com]

i think the hardest thing for me when coming up with a routine for BQ '07 was being bigger than life sexy. bd had stomped that out.

[parasitegirl.livejournal.com]

The softness of BD is one of the things that I think weakens Burly when they get fused.

There is no way these parents didn't know they were seeing burly, but all in all it was pretty kid friendly. Kids dig boobies.

[kimuchi.livejournal.com]

Kids of that age aren't going to remember the experience, anyway.

[the-mouthpiece.livejournal.com]

Tap dancing Mime-Maids? Holy shit batman, I think that's in the running for the best thing ever.

[parasitegirl.livejournal.com]

"Japanese Tap-dancing Mime-Maids that Emit Strange Noises"

The good shit in Japan isn't in the guide books.

[leilia.livejournal.com]

Word.

I am still wiping tears from my eyes at this and my dogs are wanting to know why I am laughing so much.

It almost makes me wish I were there.

[kimuchi.livejournal.com]

I would be totally tempted to do burlesque if I wasn't as big as a house (particularly after the show in Seattle). I know in the abstract that there are burlesque dancers who are formidable mansions to my cosy post-war bungalow, but even so.

That said, I can't be bothered to walk down the block to Hubba Hubba Review, so I'm obviously very serious about this.

[parasitegirl.livejournal.com]

I think the part of me that would do burlesque is the part of me that is being fulfilled by my "Cabaret MC" approach to Balkan Fusion music. If it were not for dancing around in pinstripes, kicking, being slightly masculine and smirking all around I might be all over burlesque!

[yndy.livejournal.com]

I love this post... even without pictures, there were definite pictures in my head.
(except of skeevy owner guy, I kept that picture out of my head!)

:)

[parasitegirl.livejournal.com]

We have pictures now!

[yndy.livejournal.com]

oh the mime maids are just.... perfect! :)

[peanutlovelove.livejournal.com]

When I went home I did 2 shows with "burly" gals. If you think there are 3 month wonders in BD...don't even start with burly...

I know there are good burly acts out there...but these gals.

"Oh, belly dance, yah I did a bellydance-burly number once"
ME "Really, have you studied?"
"Nah. I just saw a friend do it one time and I copied her."

[bluemoonsaga.livejournal.com]

yep 90% of burlies are self crowned queens. the scene makes bd look like a highly trained group of artists. actually there is no community either, really.

sad i'd be there in a new york minute.

[tiffanyharvey.livejournal.com]

The maids look much scarier in the photo than I had imagined.
(Also, Cherry seems to have lost her belly button?)

[sakuranbopop.livejournal.com]

I'm so glad you wrote this! I could never have done it justice. I had fun reliving that night...and I think we should incorporate the invisible on/off vocal button into our next act. Maid costumes, though? Never never never never.