Do You Want To Touch Me?

I saw the sun today, and I swear it’s true. It’s depressing to think how often I blog or Tweet these days and that’s my lead, but there it is. I never thought I’d be longing to see the sun, but after slogging through the rain in these grey, short days, I’m stoked to get an injection of Vitamin D (and not Vitamin Dick if your Crystal Precious, though that’s always welcome). The two highlights of the past few weeks have been the following: acquisition of newest corset (the Dita in sapphire blue), the 6th Annual Vancouver Burlesque Festival (was described as the Lady Gaga of burlesque by a complete random, which made my day to no end) and of course getting my frame ready for the summer fun on the horizon.

I promise, likely Sunday, I’ll do a full, in depth blog about the Festival with all it’s amazing bits and pieces and hopefully some photos as well. I know there was a large number of photographers there, but I also know that they know damn well that they can’t post just a few pictures without ‘Burlesque Backlash’ of a dozen burlesque dancers whining “But where are the pictures of ME?”. I know, because I happen to be one of them. So Sunday, hopefully I’ll have something, and I can dedicate the time to a proper nod to all the folks who volunteered, worked their asses off, went into debt, and brought it to the Rickshaw and Vogue stages. And Scotty the Blue Bunny. I’m going to be gushing a considerable bit about THAT guy. So, if your evil or Stephen Harper, and my gushing about an amazing seven foot tall gay man in heels, blue spandex and bunny ears rankles you, I invite you to kindly fuck the fuck off.

Ahem. So, back to the matter at hand: corsets and the summer. I acknowledge at this point I have been slacking off just a tiny bit. Between the madness of the Festival prep, the stress, and trying to keep the boat floating I haven’t been wearing my corsets as much as I’d have liked. However, with the arrival of my new Dita style (named for the nipped, waspy waist that gives the wearer the appearance of it’s namesake) I was back on the wagon. That, and I proudly am aware that there are a number of other new tightlacers and trainers popping up in Vancouver. This pleases me to no end that other girls are wanting to take part in this experiment as well, but it also brings out my teeny, tiny competitive streak. Just a little bit…

…Yes, yes it does.

Now, I don’t see any of us throwing down with Cathy Jung (my tightlacer hero) but in the name of science and because I’m a pervert, I wanted to get waisted with these girls. Elegantly waisted. June was to be the start of a personal 30 Day Challenge of visiting a dance class or the gym once a day. I’m proposing (or am I throwing down a gauntlet?) to my corseting sisters: let’s all measure up June 1st, chart and plot or progress, and see where we stand June 30th. Let’s get our bodies shapes shifted in time for summer with it’s skimpy bikinis, BHOF weekend, barbecues, and garner the attention of others in the city and invite them to be tangled in our web of daily couture and fashion. As Misty Greer is fond of saying, “People will stare. Give them a reason.” I know I plan to, but I’m also hoping to enlist others in this secret fashionista army.

But I’m not planning on ending with with sight, I want a monopoly on scent as well. It’s well known that burlesque dancers as breed and a rule will commonly mark their territory with glitter. Often times if you question the presence of others, you can do a quick cushion smack to kick up a cloud, inspect a backstage floor, bathroom drain or person’s hairline for evidence. But with the arrival of summer I want people to associate smell along with the visuals of inhumanly small waist, refracted light, and big hair.

I had, for years, worn Dior and latterly Gaultier. I still adore Gaultier Pour Homme. I half suspected, because the last few guys I dated wore it I was only dating the host systems for the scent. I was actually in love with the eau de parfum. For myself, this summer I wanted a slightly more subtle smell, one that would stay with my friends and lovers in their minds and nostrils after I had left their company. Since designer scents aren’t doing it for me (but don’t let me stop you from wearing them) I turned to Kara at Queen Bee Luxuries.

She first got me addicted to a Cotton Candy body lotion years ago which suited where I was in my life then but more recently, through introduction of Clown Boss and the darling Shelley at Easy Vanity got me hooked on another smack: Haus Of Gloi, which is handmade vegan bodycare from Portland. Queen Bee is my lifeline to these people and ever since the day Shelley slathered my hand in their Absinthe body emulsion I have been chasing the Green Faery ever since. So now that I have decided on their products with Queen Bee (and I see them selling their hand made hair flowers and birdcage veils at shows all over town) they now know, like Melanie, they have me on the hook. For life.


So this summer: smaller waists, hopefully all around between time at Tantra Fitness with my hot roomie and corsets from Melanie at Lace Embrace… and killer hair from East Vanity and now my hopefully signature scent from Queen Bee Luxuries. I’ll let you know when I get it, and I’ll invite you closer to have a whiff and solicit your opinion. Or pickpocket you. Either way.

Little Miss Risk

And because I love you, and want you to find them, Queen Bee is here on Facebook

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