I've seen the movie, bonded with it, listened to the soundtrack over and over, tell friends about it and the comparisons to a Bowie's life, who was a huge influence on my little dancing legs in the 80s.
And now... I am performing my interpretation of Wig In A Box at Cabaret de Caliente in Sebastopol, CA this Friday, June 14. It's about an hour and a half north of Pacifica, where my lovely Palace of Pasties sits on the edge of the 10 story cliffs of the Pacific Ocean.
In my mind, this act has been completed for over 5 months. In reality, I need to add a few more sparkles to the wigs and fine tune the steps right before the pastie reveal. It's a long song, over 5 minutes, but it starts out nice and slow and intense. I do wig reveal after wig reveal, tease after tease and strut my star spangled banner all the way through. I'm going Trailor Style, because of Cabaret de Caliente's theme: White Trash Summer Bash.
I practiced last night and only have one last bit of sewing to do for my Miss Midnight Checkout Queen sash --- I am so looking forward to this night. I recognize that some may find the term white trash offensive, thereby stating all humans are trash, thus if whites are trash, so are blacks, yellows, reds and greens. I myself recognize the term as part of how I grew up - with relatives living in trailer parks and how I was offered drugs before I was 10 years old. People had trash in their yards and we were all Caucasian. The black and Latin folks weren't trashy at all compared to what I witnessed in my cousin's neighborhood.
My act is based on trailer park living, on Hedwig and his plight of becoming an asexual sexual being, because his mother wanted to live in East Berlin to guarantee she had food for her son. Hedwig identified as a female at an early age, so his mama's idea was intended to be a good one. If you've never seen the movie, Hedwig's angry inch happened because of his mom's pure desire to help her son. She found a surgeon to make him a woman to escape East Berlin... but the doctor left him with an angry inch. He escaped and one month later, the wall fell. Traumatizing to say the least and horribly ridiculous to say the most. I felt for Hedwig, I feel for anyone suffering economically who feels they must change their body in order to make a better living, and I understand those who have no desire to change, nor to be clean and environmentally correct humans, though I do not identify with the these choices.
Cabaret De Caliente's show on Friday is burlesque, which is a form of satire, and we are making fun of ourselves and adding sexiness to it. I'm making fun of being offered drugs at such an age when I had no idea what drugs were except my asthma medicine. I'm dancing with a dozen wigs as my identity has changed more than Madonna's. I was able to escape my family's white trash stigma, because my mama helped her sister, brother-in-law and 2 little girls buy a house on the right side of the tracks. They were literally on the north side and moved to the south side of town.
Getting back to my sparkly jean shorts, the american flag panties and bustier and the 8 million wigs I've collected over my life, this act has me only using about a dozen. I want to drink a half dozen cold PBR and I want to run my fingers through mullets. I want to pretend Daisy Duke is my BFF and to fake like I'm dumber than nails. Which reminds me, I HAVE to paint my nails today or tomorrow.
No disrespect meant to anyone, as the show title was not created by me, but I'm doing the show, because I identify a part of my history as such. This burlesque act is a satire of a life I left behind. I kicked it in the ass when I left Kansas and never went back. Here's to my ma, pa, bro, cousins, aunts, uncles, friends, gramma, gramps and all those who are still there, died there, and never want to leave. And when you come out of your trailer on Friday, I do reveal sparkly red pasties, and that's all that matters in the end. See you then!