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This month’s RedBalloon mission was quite exciting but slightly intimidating. Four one hour burlesque classes in Sydney, taught by a real live burlesque performer who goes by the name of Satin Spitfire.

Satin is hot. Not to mention crass, funny, loud, sweet, accepting and inclusive, and about a million other kinds of awesome. The class was small, the dance moves relatively easy, and the music loud and sexy.

The idea of burlesque dancing is so appealing to the lush, heady side of creativity. It’s all sparkles and glitter, velvet and feather boas, champagne and sex, and something inherently feminine and powerful. It’s so commonly confused with stripping, but getting naked is not the point. It’s all about the tease.

While certainly not enough to turn me into any kind of sexy, sensual performer (a la Ms Spitfire); four one hour-long classes were just enough to get a taste of what burlesque is like; an introduction to the ins and outs of the theory, attitude and basic moves behind it. There is absolutely no experience necessary- the first class begins with the very basics of a ‘burlesque walk’ and choosing a stage name. Going with my theme, I am now officially (kinda) known as Lilly Bean (like jellybean, only…. not?).

Out of the class of five, only one of us had any prior exposure, having done pole dancing and been to quite a few live burlesque shows. She even had a kick-arse pair of stripper heels to wear. Along with comfy clothes and drinking water, ‘high heels and lippy’ are essential requirements for burlesque classes. I, of course, wore my favorite black and white heels. And when it came to Week Three- Tassle Twirling- I was delighted to discover Satin had a pair of black and white pasties for me to borrow.

Pasties, in case you’re wondering, are the things worn to completely cover your areola and nipples, to which your tassels are attached. You can either tape or glue them on. We played with a stack of props, including gloves and fans and feather boas. And there was no pressure to undress- the option to wear your pasties over bras or even a shirt was there. All but one of us stripped off anyway.

By popular request… a pastie photo. Ta-da!!

Just for the record- I suck at tassle twirling. The objective is to get your tassles to spin, just by shimmying your shoulders. Despite being assured that boob size and shape makes no difference, and everyone can twirl… I really don’t think my boobs are big enough. I did get some twirling happening, but only by putting my arms straight up in the air and jumping up and down. And I’m not sure that’s sexy.

Having put on a bit of weight recently, the timing for this one was perfect. I badly needed some self esteem boosting and body love, and this was perfect. All sizes and shapes are celebrated in burlesque. The vibe of the class was lovely- there was no judgement here; no bitchy poking and snarking about weight and lumps and bumps. The instructor was easily a size sixteen, and she was one of the sexiest woman I’ve ever seen. There was something confronting about feeling like a veritable stick figure, and not at all desirable. It was probably a good thing that I found myself looking sexier and slightly fuller-figured as the months worth of classes ran on, and appreciating what curves I do have.

As much as I hate to disappoint you all… I don’t think I’ll be making the transition to burlesque performing any time soon. I’d have to do a lot of work on twirling first. But I highly recommend burlesque classes. They’re a work out- you’ll leave sweating- but the moves are relatively easy. It’s the attitude that takes time to perfect.

And in terms of body love- this has been one of the most positive experiences I’ve ever had. I left every week loving my body, feeling sexy and womanly. And given those ten kilos I’ve quite comfortably put on, that’s been exactly what I needed.

***

As we’ve discussed, sometimes Mother’s Day just sucks. Do yourself a huge favour and invest in some burlesque body love, for you or someone else, this Mum’s Day. Red Balloon gift vouchers are available here.

Thanks to the team at Digital Parents Collective for inviting me to be a part of the RedBalloon Experience Program. Stay tuned- more awesomeness over the next few months. As always, all opinions are my own (because no one else would want them…?) however the experiences are complimentary.

And, just for jellbeans, there’s a special offer for RRSAHM readers- Spend $129 or more on any RedBalloon experience, and receive $30 off.

To redeem: Visit www.redballoon.com.au and enter the promo code

REDMUM06 at the checkout to receive your discount.

Terms and Conditions: Offer valid until 31/12/13. Promotional Code can

only be used once per person. All purchases are subject to Red Balloon T’s and C’s.

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There’s something thoroughly unsentimental and quite un–romantic about the realities of being in a long distance relationship.

There’s always the usual sense of wanting to devour one another, to eat each other whole until you’ve gorged yourself, filled yourself completely on the other person’s scent.

And then there’s the 776 aching, smug kilometers between you (give or take a few hundred metres or so. And not like I’m at all obsessive enough to actually look that up or anything). Some days that feels like nothing at all, connected by fast speed Internet and a dozen different ways to communicate. Other days it seems as though I can feel every millimeter of every centimeter of flat freeway that rolls out between us.

And we both end up kind of lonely, frustrated and dissatisfied. Because there’s only so much you can say over the phone when there aren’t really words for it… you need to kiss it into their skin to get your meaning across.

And, so I’ve been told; the harder you fall, the worse that longing gets.

I’m imagining all that tension and frustration will only be exasperated by the impending event that is Valentine’s Day. Because if there’s one day of the year that everyone (else) seems to be getting laid, then Valentine’s Day is the day.

Not that my Valentine’s Day isn’t going to be awesome. Due to having one very sore right breast, I’m booked in for a mammogram that day.

No one panic– precautionary measure only, no one has used the ’l’ word or anything of it’s equivalent (in fact, I watched the student doctor almost say it– “I’m just feeling for l– abnormalities”– before she stopped herself, obviously aware how much the word ’lump’ and ’breast’ in the same sentence understandably freaks women right out). And, yes, I am aware that mammograms are exceptionally unpleasant, especially if you are already ’exquisitely tender’ (who knew that was medical terminology?)

But right now, I’m choosing to take a bit of amusement from the situation. Because, at this stage… I can.

And with the The Most Amazing Man In The Universe a whole 776 km’s away… at least someone will be feeling my boobs on Valentine’s Day.

***

I news completely unrelated (kind of not really) to my sexual frustration, I have finally got a giveaway just for the US readers. And it’s awesome.

To ensure every one has an awesome time on Valentines Day- whether you be single or part of a couple- the awesome people from Adult Toy Store have given me one $25 voucher to go to one of my US readers.

Check out all the awesomely naughty fun stuff you can buy here…
www.theadulttoyshop.com/collections

To win, fill in the form and tell me in 25 words or less-ish- what are you doing for Valentine’s Day? As mentioned, this one is for US readers only. Entries close midnight AEST on Friday February 8th, 2013. My decision is final and no bitching, whinging or correspondence entered into.

Non-US jellybeans, don’t’ be shy. Leave me a comment and let me know- what are your plans for Valentines Day? Or do you just plan to ignore the whole schemozzle….?

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