Sunday, 25 October 2020

Remember Egon Schiele and go back to Sunset Strip (25th October 1997)

Remember Egon Schiele, and go back to Sunset Strip. 
Being at work makes me unhappy. Following my secret desires is marginally better. I can't escape this basic equation, and the solution seems unavoidable. 
"La Belle Epoque became a celebration of women's sexuality and beauty, in turn-of-the-century Paris. That acrobatic frenzy of limbs called the Can Can was born, where dancers high-kicked in frilly petticoats flashing glimpses of white flesh between bloomers and stocking tops. Girls drudging as laundresses ten hours a day for peanuts could suddenly have more money and fun by dancing. Star dancers such as the brazen Paris sex symbol La Goulue (the Glutton) emerged--she was the first nude cover girl and became rich and famous. Meanwhile: 'The sinuous moving of a voluptuous body, the open sexuality of an uncorseted woman and the exotic attraction of the mysterious eroticism of the North African coast made the arrival of belly dance a catalyst for the birth of striptease.'" 
Go to Sunset Strip often (but briefly): three pints inside me will make even one hour bearable, even if the Glutton isn't there. But I have to keep checking. Fine. Weekly visits to see blonde bob Glutton, like I had weekly visits to see black bob. If I could afford it then, I can afford it now.



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