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Strip clubs are misogynist and exploitive. Burlesque is feminist
and fun. That seems to be the somewhat skewed logic prevailing amongst
the nation’s young and hip, which makes the Suicide Girls Live
Burlesque Tour – the road show version of the popular pin-up website
– both sexier and more justifiable than a trip to Scores.
Not that political correctness was toppermost on the
minds of the hundreds of young and hip New Yorkers who rammed the Knitting
Factory this steamy Saturday night. We had ventured deep into the heart
of TriBeCa to be entertained, maybe even titillated, by Suicide Girls
Nixon, Stormy, Ravenisis, Sicily, Pearl, Regan and Shera – fit
young women all who, yes, took off (most of) their clothes but did it
with humour, vigour and style... and no exploitation!
For those unfamiliar with it, SuicideGirls.com
is an Internet pin-up site whose punk, goth and emo models are pierced
and tattooed, not spread-eagled and silicon-injected. It’s sexy
but not explicit, and has infiltrated popular culture thanks to an active
online community where the models post profiles and journals, and can
interact with subscribers, many of whom are female. Then there are the
canny media appearances (including Probot’s ‘Shake Your Blood’
video) and aggressive salesmanship (there’s a new SG book, and
undies, T-shirts and memberships are for sale this night).
Also, in a display of synergy that had nothing to
do with coincidence, SG co-founder Missy Suicide, in town for a book
signing at the Union Square Virgin Megastore, was on-hand to introduce
the show. She was also one of the only ones allowed to take photographs
as cameras, including mine, were banned. You want photos? Buy a membership!
The show itself is an entertaining mix of cabaret,
lipstick lesbianism, punk attitude and tease, with the girls keeping
their nipples covered and panties on but little else. Vignettes ranged
from the straight-ahead (hula-hoop expert Pearl stripping to Elvis’s
‘A Little Less Conversation’, Nixon peeling to Marilyn Manson’s
‘User Friendly’) to the conceptual (Nixon and Pearl re-enacting
the Anne Bancroft and Dustin Hoffman roles in The Graduate as
Simon & Garfunkel’s ‘Mrs. Robinson’ played) to the
playful (Ravenisis and Regan pawing at each other to Shirley Bassey’s
‘Goldfinger’). Patrons in perverts’ row... sorry, the
front got their fair share of beer, gold dust and chocolate sauce spat,
blown and spilled on them. There were few complaints.
But what really distinguishes a Suicide Girls show
from your typical night at the local peeler joint? Simple: the humour.
(That and the absence of fluorescent lighting.) Where a visit to a strip
club is often a weird one, patronized as it is by regulars stoked by
too much alcohol and too little self-worth, a Suicide Girls show is
unlikely to trigger a depressive episode. Everyone’s having fun,
getting doused with beer, and reveling in an acceptable form of sexual
expression. Who knew that showing support for your feminist sisters
could involve this much nudity?
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| Stormy weathers the heat |
Regan appreciates Ravenisis |
No double entendre here! |
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