Sophie deLightful makes her debut!!

Hello my burlesque-loving beauties!

I realise I am a few days late in writing about my debut as a burlesque performer (and I am sorry), however after reading this I believe you will agree that it has been a hectic time for me and many others in my sordid world of adult entertainment.

Apologies aside, I wanted to tell you all about the super fun first night Sophie deLightful saw the light of day (excuse the pun). It was Thursday, November 5, and it took place at Bethnal Green Working Men’s Club in east London. The night, Tournament of Tease, is held monthly to offer new and emerging burlesque performers some advice on how to improve themselves.

I entered the last competition of the year and of course the line-up was the biggest yet. Not only was I competing against newlings, I was up against ladies who had entered this very competition several times before and even worse yet, others who had been performing for over a year! So I began drinking early.

I was halfway through the bill and having spent most of its first half in the pub down the road, I had yet to be intimidated by more than my competition’s extravagant props and custom-made nipple pasties. I knew, however, I was in well over my head so when my time came to perform, I threw in every ounce of energy I had and as the alcohol content in my blood rose, my nervous energy dissipated. Perfect symmetry.

The resulting routine was a decent first effort, but I am the first to admit it had holes. The judges, bless them, failed to address the two instances my 6-inch heels fell from under me (Jo King didn’t let that one slip though!) and gave me some great advice on how to improve my narrative (definitely my weak spot in this instance) and said they wanted to hear me sing more. Delight! That I shall do.

The night bore on and I witnessed the second half of a very impressive bill. Resigning myself early on to the fact that I would not be a winner or indeed runner-up, I took pleasure in just being with the friends that made the effort to get there. Thank you, thank you, thank you!!

My spirits high, I woke (very late) the next day to an invitation by the lovely Sophia Rose to perform that night at the amazing club under London Bridge’s arches, Shunt. Now this club is very special to me – I have been several times and each time experienced something new and wonderful. Apparently it was used to shelter people during the war and to this day, has an alluring eeriness about it that you would find hard to replicate anywhere else in London.

So of course I said yes and packed my things for a second night of mischief. Even from my arrival at 8pm, there was a massive queue out the door. I knew it would be a good night. Once we’d readied ourselves, promoter Sadie (a former burlesque dancer) took us to our stage at the cosy Speak Easy room and told us the plan. I was to do my only routine (‘massaged’ a little to accentuate the positive and minimise the negative) and Sophia would do two of hers. Easily done.

Again, I wasn’t really nervous but more excited, and with a little improv thrown in, I think I performed a decent show. Wasn’t entirely sold on my routine but I soldiered on. In my opinion, most the people in the room had never even been within 200 metres of a burlesque show so anything remotely resembling the art of tease would be gratefully accepted.

Afterwards, in the dressing room, we befriended some of the other performers and after promises that “tonight was just a warm-up”, I was persuaded to come back for “the real thing” on Saturday night. My mind started ticking that very minute.

The next day, I made a strong resolve to do only improv routines and throw caution to the wind (as well as a few articles of clothing). After all, there was just one more week left of Shunt before the (evil) council closed the club forever and ever. I had to make the most of it.

With little more preparation than a few spins on my iPod and some loose mental direction as to when I should take off what and who I should slap around when, I donned my 1920s cabaret themed outfit to suit the Speak Easy vibe for that evening, and went to work on my Nasty Naughty Girl routine. Because my fellow performer poet, Jason, wasn’t around I had to choose an audience member to dance for but I don’t think he minded.

The routine went pretty well – without going into massive detail, it involved me (accidentally but on purpose) smashing a wine glass, drinking cava and spitting it out all over myself, and then pouring the rest of the bottle all over my bare chest. Well, almost bare, I had my beloved sequined star pasties covering my modesty. Ha! Modesty…

After this, Sadie decided to test my improv-abilities by getting me to dance to a version of I Put A Spell On You by the band that performed just before we hit the stage. I tailored my routine as such and it was a great experience to have a live singer behind me, working with my motions as I slowly seduced the hot, steamy Speak Easy.

And just to push me that extra little inch, Sadie then announced I was to do another improv, this time with Jason ready and rarin’ in the hot seat. Having told me I could do anything I wanted, including ripping his shirt and pouring drinks everywhere, I went a little mental and – encouraged by some shots of vodka and gin – ended up pulling out a clump of the poor boy’s hair, watching as the buttons off his shirt flew through the air, ripped open one leg of my own tights, crawled around on the ground (only adding to my collection of scratches and bruises on my knees) and pouring another bottle of cava all over me at the end.

Except it wasn’t the end this time. Having never performed a routine to Wolfmother’s Pleased To Meet You before, I had only my minimal mental preparation to lean on and that did not include an accurate assumption on the song’s length. With a little extra time, however, I managed to shimmy off the pasties from my wet and sticky body, and in a spot of quick-thinking, avoided any breaches of liquor licenses by taking out my hair and using the long dreds to cover myself. Which worked well until I started throwing my head about in a semi-deranged fashion. I do not know which side of my family I get this from.

Anyway, my demonic routine ended to rapturous applause and according to Sadie, was a hat-trick in achieving an audience queue out the door for me and Sophia. I would have no idea, I didn’t see one person’s face the whole time, what with my mind firmly positioned on Jason’s crutch. At this point I did still think he was gay. Luckily.

As a fittingly messy finale, possibly inspired by my antics, Sadie pushed bottles of cava into my and Sophia’s hands and told us to shoot, aim, fire at the unsuspecting audience at the conclusion of Jason’s poem (about masturbation or something). It was gold. I’m not sure, but I think I heard someone say, “Oh my gosh, this dress was £300!” Well honey, don’t wear it in the front row of a cabaret show.

So that was my looooooooooooong weekend! Hope you enjoyed reading about it as much as I enjoyed living it ☺

Much luv, S. deL xoxo