Date night

My lover is off travelling, as travel journalists do. So once again I find myself home alone, cooking for one, reading plays and learning scripts for the Grahamstown Festival. On Monday night I watched lame movies online, Tuesday I did the same, got bored and then went to see friends, by Wednesday I was fed up and decided to treat myself.

Date night. When I was overseas in Montreal, Canada, every single night was date night. I was alone, it was summer and I was in French Canada, everything was beautiful, romantic, new and exciting. I dressed up every night, went to a bar, ordered a drink, made a friend, learnt French (tried to learn French), tried Tango classes, watched outdoor cinema, climbed the one and only mountain (which is definitely just a hill), dabbled in some bad behaviour, ate muscles, drank wine, went to churches and laughed at how much it cost to light a candle and pray, ” Jesus. ” Everything was perfect even the disgusting French men, who ‘perved’ more than I knew one could ‘perve’,  were quaint and beautiful because it was part of my perfect month-long date night with myself.

That was all more than a year ago. Those memories are beginning to fade and I am back home in Cape Town where I know everything, the hipster, the hipster and the more hipster. Or so I thought. On Wednesday it just so happened that at The House of Machines in Shortmarket st, Lady Magnolia and The Rouge Revue Burlesque Company were putting on a free show debuting Strawberry Sundae, the newest member. Now let me not lie, The House of Machines is definitely the most hipster place I have ever been to, fit with its craft beers, handle bar moustaches, high prices and biker,  meets rocker, meets American diner, meets lazy Cape Town vibe.

I paid for my naartjie juice asked the bar-man for the rest of my change, on realising that there was none, I skulked to the front hoping that no one had heard me or noticed that I was way too eager about the burlesque dresscode. I was the only one not on stage wearing suspenders, lace stockings and heels. Sometimes the actress in me is just way too overboard. But who wears jeans and a shirt to a burlesque show? Come on people. Anyways, back to the point.

I had decided that this night was about me, a woman out on her own, enjoying a date with herself. Burlesque was exactly what I wanted my first home date to involve and Lady Magnolia did not disappoint.  I sat down in the front row and the lights came up on one of the most beautiful women that I know. Lady magnolia in all of her splendour. Glitz and glam, legs and skirts and slits that start at the floor and carry on up until your neck gets tired. I was having the time of my life. Legs and bums, arms and fingers and glitter and singing and swinging and smacking and bending and whacking and lips and hips and sparkles on the nips. It was loud and brazen and bashful and brave and crude and rude and cute and sexy, so so wonderfully, exquisitely sexy.

Watching a woman take her clothing off is like having GOD stroke your face. You don’t know whether to smile or laugh or cry or scream or just sit in silence and allow the magic to happen. Your mind is empty and full all at the same time. The female form, in my opinion, is the most beautiful thing on earth. Watching women of all shapes, ages and sizes enjoy their skin and sex and size is golden. It was such an incredible experience. Please treat yourself ladies. Date night for the girls. Find MISS parties at Truth Cafe in Town and Lady Magnolia on Facebook. It is magic waiting to blow your mind. Oh and for the gentle men with their tongues wagging, Lady Magnolia is married to the most beautiful short-haired, Pocahontas-looking Dj called Dear Mrs Panda. Shame for you.

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