![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Finally, at my fourth Bang For the Buck, I stripped. Down to my panties & garter belt. In front of about three hundred women.
It went off pretty much as I practiced so many times, no wardrobe malfunctions, plenty of eye contact. My song? My own special, two-minute edit of Neko Case's "Look For Me (I'll Be Around)"*. It was my main inspiration. My character? Fifties hausfrau. I tickled the front row with my feather duster to the opening bars, slowly peeled my rubber gloves off, shed my heels to "When your feet are back / On the solid ground", took the black bandana off my head and waved it pointedly**, then off with the dress & petticoat, pinged the garters off (So much harder to get on than off!), peeled my stockings, faked a yawn, and ran. I think I set the record for amount of "stripper droppings" left on stage.
The Siberian Siren also stripped, and managed to beat out a few pros to take third place in the "competition". Unlike me, she has dance moves (She spent much of her childhood dancing ballroom.) and a figure to die for. She credits me and my status reports for nudging her into getting ready & doing it.
One of my trans friends was there in dapper, old-school butch and decided to strip at the last minute to, I must say, excellent effect. When she told me it was at the spur of the moment, I could only reply, "I'm going to say this with as much love and respect as I can muster: fuck you."
Raffle prizes: thong underwear in leather & vinyl, in my size. I didn't own any thongs before, sadly, and I wanted some. I think that worked out quite nicely.
I was yawning my way through the last hour of the strip-o-rama - maybe the adrenalin rush took it out of me - so I didn't stay for much of the play party afterward. I did flirt a little with the fantastically long-haired woman behind the counter at the front door, though, who remembered me from one of the goddess nights.
*It pained me that I couldn't use the song in its entirety. The whole LP that it's on, Blacklisted, is solid gold. My editing software? Audacity.
**In the gay men's hanky code, a black hanky means you're into pain. I held it in my right hand. Ahem. I heard a few people laughing; I'm pretty sure they got the joke.
It went off pretty much as I practiced so many times, no wardrobe malfunctions, plenty of eye contact. My song? My own special, two-minute edit of Neko Case's "Look For Me (I'll Be Around)"*. It was my main inspiration. My character? Fifties hausfrau. I tickled the front row with my feather duster to the opening bars, slowly peeled my rubber gloves off, shed my heels to "When your feet are back / On the solid ground", took the black bandana off my head and waved it pointedly**, then off with the dress & petticoat, pinged the garters off (So much harder to get on than off!), peeled my stockings, faked a yawn, and ran. I think I set the record for amount of "stripper droppings" left on stage.
The Siberian Siren also stripped, and managed to beat out a few pros to take third place in the "competition". Unlike me, she has dance moves (She spent much of her childhood dancing ballroom.) and a figure to die for. She credits me and my status reports for nudging her into getting ready & doing it.
One of my trans friends was there in dapper, old-school butch and decided to strip at the last minute to, I must say, excellent effect. When she told me it was at the spur of the moment, I could only reply, "I'm going to say this with as much love and respect as I can muster: fuck you."
Raffle prizes: thong underwear in leather & vinyl, in my size. I didn't own any thongs before, sadly, and I wanted some. I think that worked out quite nicely.
I was yawning my way through the last hour of the strip-o-rama - maybe the adrenalin rush took it out of me - so I didn't stay for much of the play party afterward. I did flirt a little with the fantastically long-haired woman behind the counter at the front door, though, who remembered me from one of the goddess nights.
*It pained me that I couldn't use the song in its entirety. The whole LP that it's on, Blacklisted, is solid gold. My editing software? Audacity.
**In the gay men's hanky code, a black hanky means you're into pain. I held it in my right hand. Ahem. I heard a few people laughing; I'm pretty sure they got the joke.
