Burlesque Stars with Questionable Memories

I can’t believe she didn’t remember me! How could she not remember me? I performed with her every week for more than a year! I sat in her crappy van with her while she practiced her opera, drank a gallon of water, and glued austrian crystal rhinestones on her shoes! She used the van to transport her props–her giant champagne glass, her costume made of more than a thousand peacock feathers, her enormous gilded birdcage, the one with a fountain of water that poured over her while she sat on a swing inside it. Oh, and don’t forget her giant fans. Her actual costumes didn’t take up much room-you could fit her flesh colored g-string in a thimble, but the bigger stuff, well, she needed a van.
And still, she didn’t remember me.
Granted, she had hit the “big time” as far as burlesque dancers go, performing with the queen, Dita Von Teese, touring the world, designing Dita’s costumes… She also held a lot of titles–Not titles like HRH Duchess of Canterbury, or Dr. of Linguistics, but titles like Miss Nude USA and Miss Exotic World.
Still, how could she not remember how I performed with her every Thursday night at the Viper Room for more than a year! Not two weeks–a year!! I performed a Nita and Zita type show with my contortionist partner and best friend, Kim. Our act was titled: The Daring Duo of Delight, Honey and Vermilion. The dancers spent a lot of time together backstage. Miss Delish was always the grand finale of the show with her superprops. Her dreams of being an opera singer, it seems that was overtaken by her dancing success. She definitely incorporated her love of singing into her show. I had watched her crawl around the stage in a long vintage gown, singing a Marilyn Monroe song in a breathy voice, winking at the people in the front row, even cuddling the random head to her breasts while singing.
Now she she had come to New Orleans to perform with burlesque group at House of Blues.
I decided to attend the burlesque class she was teaching, even though as a Mom, my burlesque days were behind me. I was hungry for interaction with someone from my glamorous previous life, a life that seemed like a distant dream now that my days were filled with splashing though rain puddles and pointing out butterflies while chubby little hands clapped in delight.
Miss Delish barely remembered me. “Hi Catherine Delish!” I said. No recognition in her eyes that were shielded from the world with big black horn-rimmed glasses. She shook her head with a polite smile. Not one to give up easily, I said, “I’m Honey! Part of Honey and Vermilion, from the Viper Room?”
A small spark of recognition. “Oh yes,” she said softly, turning away from me immediately.
How is this possible? Too stuck in her own little funhouse full of mirrors? Would she have remembered the jungle dancer who danced around a big volcano that erupted in orange feathers at the end of her show? Or the trapeze artist? What about Aqua Girl, who danced in a big tank of water? Would she remember her? Or what about our nasty little fire eater, Otter, with her chihuahuas wearing rhinestone collars and mink stoles? Would she have made more of an impression?We didn’t dance in the same show for a week or two–it was over a year of weekly shows together! It’s not like our act was forgettable. Vermilion and I always brought down the house with our routines of acrobats, contortions, and cheeky humor. We were a highlight!! Of course, all the acts were pretty amazing and could arguably be considered a highlight.
I KNOW she remembered Lady Jane, our Oyster Girl. Lady Jane put our show together and was endlessly entertaining as our director and producer. Now there’s a woman who was a genius at rhinestoning her shoes and g-strings. Lady Jane is the one who told us she wanted our act to resemble Nita and Zita, the infamous New Orleans Sister Acrobat act from the 1930’s. Lady Jane had lived in New Orleans long before I lived there.
At that point, I had visited NOLA once, and everywhere I went, I was captivated by a photo that was framed and hung on many bar walls–the photo was a close-up of a stunning woman from 1920’s/1930’s. She had a gorgeous headdress on and that stunning Flapper makeup. When I asked the bartender who the photo was, I was told all about Nita and Zita. Once I knew their names, I started seeing the photo everywhere. I even walked into a funky secondhand shop (always a favorite adventure of mine) and hanging from the ceiling were all kinds of awesome vintage costumes: burlesque, belly dance… I have an eye for costumes. Sure enough, the proprietor told me they had belonged to Nita and Zita. They now seemed to be following me. It was a year or two after they captured my attention in NOLA that Lady Jane encouraged me to put together an act with Kim. At first I thought this was a bad idea–I knew Kim was so talented and lovely she would steal all my thunder. (Immature I know, but at least I’m being honest…) LadyJane pointed out I would be the straight man in the act–Dean Martin to her Jerry Lewis. (Who wouldn’t rather be Dean-o over Jerry Lewis? Of course Jerry Lewis was a genius, and there are probably many people who would rather be Jerry, but me? I’d rather be Dean-O.)
So if Kim is the acrobat/contortionist in our group, I’m more of a contortionist illusionist. I can’t do any grand tricks-only the simple tricks that any 6-year-old can do–like backbends and splits. But I do excel at tricking people into thinking I’m doing something fantastic. (I don’t know how I do this, all I know is that I used to get paid a lot of money to pretend I could do cool tricks. It’s kind of like warming up to do a back flip and everyone is holding their breath, watching, and I dazzle them with a smile, go through the motions without ever doing the trick, and end with a big Ta-Da–cueing them to applaud and be wowed, even though they didn’t really see anything…???)
In any case, we decided putting an act together was a great idea, and Honey and Vermilion was born. We had a ball choreographing our numbers and new tricks in our living room. We had dragged a giant broken mirror out of a friend’s parking garage (someone had obviously dumped their closet mirrors in their 80’s style apartment) and we gingerly put that mirror into my convertible VW Bug and set it up in our living room to practice. If the tricks we created looked complicated or made us laugh hysterically, they made it into the choreography. Anyone who came into our house, which we called the Royal Palace, was made to watch our developing dance numbers and give us feedback.
So Lady Jane wanted us to wear matching Jean Harlow-style wigs for our act to give it a retro look and to make us look even more like sisters. (Kim and I actually physically resemble each other and could easily pass for sisters.) We thought this was a great idea. We had the wigs styled for opening night, and let’s just say this didn’t turn out very well, but we were forced to wear them anyway because it was too late to change. Instead of glamorous finger curls the wigs originally had ala Harlow, the wig experts styled them to look, well, let’s just say when we put them on for opening night, we discovered (to our great horror) that we actually resembled twin Barbara Bushes! The wigs were set like little old ladies, and the more we tried to fix them, the more we ended up resembling Q-Tips. Not glamorous at all!
So maybe Miss Delish didn’t remember me because she had blocked out the cotton swab act.
Oh well, I guess it was a lot of years ago I was tramping across those dingy stages in Hollywood. Maybe if I had worn a Bush wig with a feather and jewels in my hair she would have remembered me. But in the end, I really don’t care. It’s in the past, a delicious past I cherish and delight in even though it fades more and more with each passing year. But it informs who I am now, and recently, (it’s about 4 years now after her class in NOLA), I went to see Miss Delish perform in NYC with Dita. I am in awe that she still performs! This time she crawled around a giant diamond spiderweb. And while I love the costumes and the shoes (Dita’s shoes!!! ), the funny props, I was so glad that wasn’t my life anymore. Dirty nightclubs with sticky floors and drunk obnoxious crowds…I salute you my aging burlesque stars. I applaud your perseverance. And I’m thrilled I’m no longer a part of it.