(Kindly inform me if it's too trashy. I'm aware of the exhibitionist connotations as they are.)
Had one recently that trumped all that I ever thought: to perform a risqué dance, preferably involving undressing partially, on stage to slow, sensuous music in one of those corset-and-bustle-skirt ensembles ubiquitous amongst burlesque performers, as well as the inevitably necessary trimmings: beautifully coiffed hair, almost flawless make-up, sheer black stockings, stilettos.
Having actually done something to that effect in front of a mirror, I actually felt very intensly dissatisfied with what I saw and to some degree what I felt on my body. By the time the song was over and my organza skirt was all over the floor, I was already in tears. I felt very much at ease at first, but it just got sadder with every second. The ultimate dream: to make it flow flawlessly.
