MTV inspires a young Bunny to strip, sort of.

MTV and I grew up together. As a preschooler in the very early 1980's, my dad was laid off quite often and we spent a lot of quality time together. One of my most vivid memories as a three or four year old was watching MTV. It was new and my parents were into it so it was on in the background most of the time.

The first time I saw Boy George come across my television screen stopped me dead in my tracks. I was completely mesmerized by this beautiful, foreign creature making eyes at me. He was the most gorgeous woman I had ever seen, so different from my Mommy. It took me a little while to realize that he was, in fact, a "daddy". This only intrigued me more. The idea that someone could be so beautiful and interesting and be "playing pretend" was an amazing revelation that blossomed my curiosity. I loved Boy George even more for being a "daddy" but for wanting to be a "mommy". It gave me permission at an early age to be a weirdo. Since then, I have had a fascination and respect for drag queens as true artists. Their level of skill, attention to detail and commitment to the craft of impersonation is truly a marvel to me. I just love the over-the-top bordering on grotesque tongue in cheek spirit of what they do. They are as visually stunning as any piece of art.

Another early influence was the Gilbert and Sullivan operas. For some reason, PBS was showing a lot of Gilbert and Sullivan back in the day and I was immediately hooked-- my mom just went with it. The Mikado was my favorite at the time. The costumes, makeup and sets took me to a far off place-- sometimes even a little frightening to a small child. But here again, I got interested in Kabuki as a result--another type of performance art that can be subtle or over-the-top and challenging. Also an art form where not all is as it may seem---"daddy" is often pretending to be the "mommy". See a theme here? I mean, come on, I should have been watching Sesame Street. It's no wonder I'm interested in dressing up just to take it off in front of other people.

So all this led to my parents involving me in community theater at the age of five--which has been such a blessing for me. I really aspire to be like my parents in that respect. They always nurtured my interests and got involved in whatever I was doing. One of the earliest shows I was in was a community production of Gypsy; Arthur Laurents, Stephen Sondheim and Jule Styne's musical adaptation of the life of burlesque star Gypsy Rose Lee. I had a very, very small part in one of the opening scenes as "Balloon Girl"--a sweet little girl dressed as a clown covered with balloons. The scene takes place during a kiddie talent audition and Momma Rose will stop at nothing to get her two little starlets, Louise and most importantly, Baby June, into the show. By the end of the scene Momma Rose pushes "Balloon Girl" off into the wings, popping her balloons with a hat pin. That was it. That was my moment. Just as an aside--covering a "costume" in balloons and then popping them one by one to reveal what's underneath is a traditional burlesque act. It's difficult to cover a g-string and pasties with balloons but as I understand it, magnets are somehow involved.

The very best part of being in that show was the crew of kids around the same age who were in the same scene and then had nothing to do until the curtain call. So we all hung out together watching rehearsals but most of the time we went out on the front steps and did our own version. No one ever wanted to be Momma Rose or Herbie or Louise for that matter, we all wanted to be the burlesque strippers. They appear three quarters into the show right before Louise makes her reluctant transformation into Gypsy Rose Lee. They had great lines, great costumes, got lots of laughs and did an awesome musical number touting their individual burlesque acts. So about six or eight of us young girls, no older than seven or eight, would all fight to take turns doing our best impersonations of their number. We took it pretty seriously, we thought we were pretty good. I'm sure none of us understood the adult theme of what we were doing. To us, "sexy" or "stripper" meant funny, bold, outspoken woman who got to wear the best costume and have the best song. I actually thank God for that. In retrospect, it probably wasn't the most conventional way to introduce to the concept of sexuality to little girls but when I think about women we've become--we're doing pretty damn good for ourselves.

The opportunity to do the show a second time came many years later. I was cast in another community production, in the same theater, but now in the title role. The seven year old inside of me was doing cartwheels while the eighteen year old was a little besides herself. It came at a time when I decided I really wanted to study theater and wanted to act. I was already familiar with the show and thought it would "be a lot of fun". What I didn't anticipate was the hard work. I had been in tons of plays by that point and had taken dance and voice for many years. I never practiced outside of rehearsal or class for anything, ever. It just came naturally to me--or so I thought. At the same time, I was in the middle of all the body hang ups high school girls have while developing a sharper understanding of "sexuality" and all it entailed.

How was I going to do a strip tease in front of a live audience if I wasn't even comfortable in a bathing suit at the beach? I did a lot of dumb stuff to try to lose weight--unsuccessfully. I started to feel even more self conscious about my body and as the weeks of rehearsal went by, we had not blocked the strip tease sequences at all. Focusing on the character as a person, not just as lines and movements, I started to see some of her in myself. It was scary. I didn't know what to do with that. I didn't know how to use it towards my acting. I felt like everyone was counting on me to be good and I had no idea what I was doing. I should have asked for help. I should have insisted that the strip tease get rehearsal time every night so I felt more comfortable. I didn't. I didn't want to let on that I was scared and didn't want to let down the seven year old inside of me--she was slowly pulling the covers up further over her head. Someone should have reassured me a little. Someone should have given me positive feedback or coached me in some way--but there were costumes to sew, parents to please and ad space that needed taking care of. There was just not enough time. Where was Boy George when I needed him?

The show opened. It was good by community theater standards but I was never happy with it. The talents I had relied on to define much of who I felt I was had let me down . Melodramatic? Perhaps a little. It was good because I learned that no matter what you're doing, you have to do the work yourself. No one is going to hold your hand all the time--not even the people who love you most. Considering I was just about to devote a lot of time and money to these talents, the self doubt that creeped up on me did not serve me well. It help set into a motion a habit of constant self-critiquing and over-analyzing--one that my seven year old self is really sick and tired of.

So that, in part, is the story of how I came to love burlesque and why this project is so important to me now. I haven't watched MTV in years--it's a shame we've grown apart. I think they stopped playing music but I do have to give it some of the credit. So I am doing this for the seven year old me, the eighteen year old me and of course, for Boy George whose painted face was the catalyst for so much growth and so much lovely nonsense in my life.

Thanks,

Bunny

Next time: Myth, Legend, Grandmother.