Serving Northern Realness

Well shiiiiit.

I guess it's been a minute since my last post, but I've been a busy striphoppin' bitch. Lately the Sweet Soul grrlz have been on deck quite a bit, flying out on the weekends to do out-of-town gigs and then coming home Sunday or Monday to take a three-day breather before Keefer Bar on Thursday. Then we head out again into the weekend... it's a good system actually as opposed to conventional touring where you hit the road for weeks at a time. Makes for more space, less inter-troupe craziness on the road, better rested grrls, more rehearsal / costume / prep time. Plus then everyone can still keep up their day-to-day life-type maintenance, exercise, classes, groceries, and sex with the lover. Because trust me, one thing you DO NOT want to do is deprive a Sweet Soul grrl of homecooked food, sleep, exercise or sex and then spend a whole wack o' time with her all up close n' personal. That is really, REALLY bad idea. You might as well starve a tiger, turn yourself into a small bunny and throw yourself at it. She will eat you. Just don't do it.

This winter we've had the pleasure of performing at some dope northern festivals, and this of course delights me to NO END - not only because it's charming and soo ultra Canadian, but because it means I get to bust out my Winnpeg-era vintage fur coats. Wearing real fur is a rare and sacred fashion privilege and I take it very seriously, because generally it's a BIG NO-NO.. UNLESS (gasp) - a) you happen to be Canadian AND b) the fur is secondhand/vintage. Then wearing fur is magically fine again and NOT grounds for mad fake-blood splatters. It's like the world-wide unspoken law of fur. I don't know why. I just wear my AMAZING eggplant 60's silver fox coat (from Burcu's Angels, obvs) and keep my damn mouth shut. On a side note I'd like to let all the psychos know that if anyone threw a giant can of fake blood at Tristan Risk while she was wearing fur, maybe try doing it around her birthday, cuz she'd fucking PEE her PANTS with excitement and then try to make out with you. For real. If you want extra wetness, get some papz to snap a pic or two. Ohhh yeahhh. Just tell her I put you up to it k?

But yeah, back to Northern Realness. First up we got to jam it out at home with three of the world's best spoken word artists at The Rio Theatre in East Van, which was super dope. Jamie DeWolf slammed the shit out of some poetry. I wouldn't say I'm a full-fledged member of the slam-poet scene per say, but I've been watching it from the sidelines for awhile and it's nice to know people still give a shit about the spoken (and written) word. (And they REALLY give a shit. Any Monday night at Cafe Deux Soleils on the Drive is packed to the teeth). Local wordsmith hero CR Avery beatboxed & harmonica'd at the same time somehow (apparently he's aurally dextrous) and Mighty Mike McPhee of Portland fame proved that the dream of the 90s is still really fucking cool over some Tribe Called Quest . I was honoured with the job of hosting and singing live jazz with a 5 piece and intro-ing ma grrlz on the massive stage. The Rio's been dealing with some seriously business-threatening licensing issues lately (oh how so untypical for Vancouver) and I'm really rooting for them; it's a solid venue with a gorgeous stage, great staff, red velvet curtains three stories high. What more could a grrl fucking want. Come on. There's gotta be some change afoot in these here parts in that regard... but that's a whole other blog post. ;)

Next up was the journey to one of the coast's most notorious annual Valentine's events, the infamous James Bondage Devient Fairytale costume party. Held at a giant lodge in Squamish, the two room event made for hilarious debauchery to the illest degree. Not gonna lie, not much sleep occurred between the non-stop antics of evil queens, Hansel & Gretal, naked red riding hoods and sick sets from tons of the West Coast's finest funk n' crunkers. Hilarity of epic fantasy proportion. I approved.

Up next: WHISTLER! Home of the GLC drink bucket, the coolest gogo dancers I've ever met, and 8 billion 20-something dudes from Australia all living in one bedroom. I know, I know, let's drink all their beer. Heh heh. We hit Dusty's Creekside on V-day proper to dance around for the shot slammin' boarders and then zoomed over to our good friends' b-day pants-free b-day party where we did a *very* private show involving a disappearing egg. "Where'd it go?" the birthday girl's boyfriend asked. "No seriously. WHERE'D IT GO." Sorry. I will never tell.

The next day I nursed my hangover in a hottub, listening to Kryptic Minds & overlooking Whistler Mountain while the grrlz did some runs. Super shitty day, not awesome and relaxing at all. I can't believe how strenuous it was to lift my afternoon wine to my lips. GAHHWD ;) After taking our time to finally glide down the Sea to Sky, we hit the Keefer Bar a day later with one of the new tracks off the record (yes, yes, it's coming along, apparently it takes time and shit with the mastering and tweaking, who knew). It never ceases to amaze me how entertained I continue to be by the fabulsou women I work with, and the clear stunner of the evening, Rita Star. KILLED IT that night. I'm a pretty big fan of our Keefer bar shows in general but this week the front row was in shock. Apparently the person who recommended us to them said it was a "magic show". Well, uh, many many drinks and bras disappeared... does that count?

Fast forward past another couple trips up the hill and some private events, blah blah blah... really we were all just waiting to up to the great gorgeous town of Whitehorse for our 5th annual three-day run at glorious Sourdough Rendezvous, the oldest festival in Canada.

Fuck I love the Yukon. Like, LOVE IT. And it all starts before you even bloody GET there. The Yukon have their own airline, Air North, and let me tell you that as with most Yukon institutions, those Air North effers know what the fuck is UP. No crappy 3 peanut bags of crap or paying eight dollars for a bunwich the size of your asshole. Nope. I'm talking good free coffee at the gate, a fresh selection of danishes and banana bread, PROPERLY PROPORTIONED SANDWICHES, attractive and genuinely fun stewardesses (with lots of awesome gays!), and none of that bullshit Westjet "funny" fodder that makes you want to roll your eyeballs onto the floor and then step on them with your heel. OH - and there's no such thing as "first class"... Yukonners don't roll like that. Everyone's in the same cabin, in the same seats, reading the same facts about the gold rush, all heading to a magical magical place - a place where for 2 a year, you can get arrested by Klondike Cops for not wearing a garter. HEAVEN.



So not only is Whitehorse clearly GORGEOUS beyond compare, with its mountain ranges on every side and crisp clean air that smells like the breath of angels, but your brain just seems to de-compress the minute you step off the plane. I can't describe it, it's like suddenly you're in another dimension - Northern Realness. Also it's the perfect size... big enough to have city ammenities but small enough that everyone knows each other. I'm actually big fan of performing in smaller cities because there's this reversion to using what used to be known as "common sense". For example, if we kinda "borrow" the giant moustache prop from the backstage of club we were performing at? No fucking problem, everyone would be totally chill about it because THEY KNOW WE'RE NOT ASSHOLES. I mean obviously we'd gonna put it back at the end of the weekend after we have MANY retardo-naked photoshoots with it, duh. Everyone just KNOWS that. Because everyone, including the club owner, also knows the people who live at the house we are staying at and that it's all good. We'd totally return said giant moustache once we've had our way with it, and everyone would just chill the fuck out and laugh, because having the burlesque grrls ride and photograph themselves on the 6-ft fun-fur moustache in different positions is just really fucking funny and clearly should just happen.

Like I said. Common sense. Isn't it refreshing?



(Cara's tiger, Sebastian, was protecting it. Tigers are really good for that you know).

The other thing about smaller cities is that they know what's really important; like the ability to have BRUNCH at the peeler bars (I KNOW, amazing), having neon signs at peeler bars that say "No Assholes" (EVEN MORE AMAZING) and also making sure that the hot burlesque dancers get to have really good tables when they go to the peeler bars (that one's just common sense. Again with the common sense!).



Plus it always seems like there's only like 2 or 3 live venues there, so you can sell out your show every night and it seems like it's a big deal, and you can sashay around like you are a TOTAL MASSIVE SUPERSTAR. It's AWESOME. Also the hot guys who spent all year working in the camps for a million dollars are PUMPED to buy your merch. It's FABulous.

SO yeah, got to kill it hard with our special guest Melody Mangler (w/ me backstage below) for three nights in a row at Foxy's pub for 300 peeps a night.. it was super rad to see everyone all dressed up too, they go all out. We also got to work with the first female MC we've had since Brigee K, Miss Erica Bergland, which was dope. All in all a super fun run. My liver was a bit pissed with me but you know. We all have to make sacrifices.



The last morning up there I awoke to a promptly prepared mimosa and breakfast burrito handed to me by lingerie clad Cherry OnTop, Lola Frost & Cara Milk. Life did not suck. We then lounged around and judged Hollywood movie stars' outfits on the Oscars while awarding each other with our own congratulatory nods from the weekends, dubbed the "Osc-whores". I can only tell you what mine was for with the lights off.

Fort Mac where we checked in for a couple night run at the WinterPlay festival. Fort Mac gets a bit of a bad rap cuz of all 'dem oil sands and stuff and the extreme aversion we all have to the Embridge pipeline scam. Low sass. There's 80 000 people living up there with most involved in some way or another in that industry... andit's already a bit of a conundrum about what's going to happen exactly to them when the oil runs out, nevermind all this added pipe business. Probably should figure that out eh? In the meantime they were ready for a sass injection courtesy of Sweet Soul. We bundled up in our afore-mentioned vintage furs and headed to one of the most charming outdoor winter festivals I've ever seen. Nothing like prairie sky on ice, I'm telling ya.





Check out the cool ice maze and cabaret tent they built on the frozen Snye river:





A shot of backstage where we pulled on our showgrrl costumes in the heated tent:



Home now for a bit to warm up a bit and work on the record in between Keefer Thursdays. We're heading out to the Kootenays next weekend for dates in Kelowna w/ A=Skillz & our homie from Dollhouse days Tyler Stickybudz, a gorgeous theatre date in Cranbrook & a prohibition party in Revvy.

I bet I'll have stories.

;)

Huge love (and with particular hearts to all the Wpg-ers who killed it at Festival Du Voyageur this past month... was thinking of you and snowy Provencher...)
xoxo
CP

Lana Del Rey & the Downside of Chair Lifts.

I can't help it... my heart goes out to the trending Miss Lana Del Rey today following her unfortunate world debut on SNL as a live performer. I'm a HUGE fan of her recordings & videos and I can't imagine how she must feel. There's nothing worse than knowing that you disappointed your fans at a huge show; I can't even fathom it at this magnitude. I can't even post it cuz it's so painful to watch and I feel like a bad person for spreading the awkward. You can google it if you really want to see it or you can just trust me: it was bad. Actually maybe don't google it on second thought. "Blue Jeans", my fave song... oh. I had to pretend it didn't happen and then put the album recording on my iPod like 4 times in a row to cleanse my brain of it.

I guess the lesson is this: if you're gorgeous & have a lovely voice & insane connections & you get signed to interscope & breathe into a hot neumann & have slick production & get your name changed & perfect your steez & have expensive sha-nay-nay & gansta nail techs & agents & management & whip-smart promoters that slice quick cuts of beloved cultural icons in your videos on YouTube, you can get really famous pretty damn quick. (btw, I'll take one of all of those k? yay k thanks. Yahhh!!!)

But no one can shortcut to getting their stage chops. You gotta earn 'em over the years like everyone else.

Not sure how that fact got lost, and at SNL to boot. I mean even Britney, who is arguably the most contrived and marketed pop star ever, had been onstage for 10 years straight before she broke out at 16. I just don't understand how anyone could book a singer who's barely ever sang live for the most-watched live weekly broadcast on the continent and expect it to go well. It makes no sense. It's ridiculous. As anyone who has tried will tell you, singing onstage is like being in another dimension. You have to focus on a million different things... time feels different. Lights are in your face blinding the shit out of you. A lot of time you have trouble hearing yourself. People and noises in the crowd are distracting you. You have fellow performers and musicians onstage to be mindful of (rhythm etc). You have aware of your position to make sure you stay in the light, hear your monitor, don't feedback, be aware / control your expressive movements & choreography, watch the mic angle & distance, remember all the lyrics & melodies, breathe in the right places, bring up the energy in the room, figure out a way to evoke emotion and response, and also, make sure your hair doesn't get stuck to your lipgloss (sooo annoying). And I haven't even MENTIONED battling nerves yet. Etc etc etc. It's not the same as recording AT ALL, and it's not easy. You can't just expect someone to be able to do it well right away.

As far as all the hurtful (albeit fairly true) comments online about Lana Del Rey's performance, it's a textbook case of the hype trap. When hype builds, the danger is that makes people very critical. It feels too good to be true, and so people wait for the other shoe to drop. Lo and behold. Are we really surprised? We might be in the digital age but this isn't the Matrix. You can't download skill sets like that.

It reminds me of something really important though, which is the whole reason I'm writing this blog, and that is to take a moment to appreciate the slow climb. Because even though I probably would have denied this even a few years ago, I really think the slow climb to fame has SO many advantages over getting catapulted there overnight. #1 - you get good at shit. I feel that if Sweet Soul ever did get a chance to perform on some high-profile show like SNL, I think by the time we got there we would FUCKING MURDER IT. Ya know? BECAUSE of the slow climb. #2: you have time to get wise to fact that fame is the strange bullshit part and that really, it's just a tool to put more art into the world, which is the real part. I know this might sound like lipservice cuz I'm a performer and it's instinctively in my nature to love attention, but honestly, "being famous" has never been the goal for me. Traveling the world doing what I love is. I guess one facilitates the other in a profession such as mine, but fame could never be an end unto itself.

Just like in the Wizard of Oz (best movie ever) or the Hobbit, the journey is always where the story happens right? How shitty would it be for us if they were like, "...and then we took a helicoptor to Mordor." THIS IS LIFE, right now. I would much rather look around, breathe the fresh air, see the alpine flowers, celebrate the milestones and enjoy the company than hop on a chairlift, race to the top and miss everything (nevermind that chairlifts aren't open in the summer, don't ruin my fucking metaphor). Yeah. So even if it makes me sweaty and gives me leg cramps sometimes, I am grateful for the slow climb.

As for Miss Lana Del Rey, all I can do is wish her strength. I also really hope that she will get back up there, because it's the only way she'll get better at it. I also hope that this doesn't keep her from making more music because I really love her songs.

Hearts
xoox
CP

Fiery Dones Does It & Thoughts on A Shrinking Sasspot

Hokay hokay. 2012!!! Year of the dragon, year shit gets happening, year of sass.
As far as any of the Mayan calendar shiz, I feel this illustration pretty much encapsulates how I feel about all that:



Yeah. Well. What's it gonna do, be never ending? They'd still be carving the damn thing. At one point you just need to put that shit down and go kill a tiger or whatever.

As far as resolutions are concerned, I'm just gonna be honest and say that I'm gonna keep working on the 10 I made last year. I'm cool with that. They were pretty ambitious, as they should've been. I'm proud to say I've crossed a few off the list. And I'm gonna go ahead and also recommend that before people get all launchy with their own resolution plans, they should take a fucking hot minute to acknowledge the shit they've actually accomplished this year and in recent years past. And for the love of sass, pay no attention to assholes who say that having a moment with yourself to acknowledge a job well done is tacky and indulgent. Mama Sass says that's outdated psychotic conservatism. It's IMPORTANT to do that, especially if you're about to set out doing some new stuff. It increases... what do they call that? Morale. Which basically means to feel sassy, which I endorse doing about 80 thousand percent of the time.

So you know, I got a some shit I've been working on that I feel pretty good about. Not just career stuff (which you'll see soon, trust me), but personally. I've got DJG's URB podcast on (so good) so I'm ready to throw them down. Readdddyyy???

Drumroll for the biggest one by far: I quit smoking. Well, I still smoke if I'm trashed, let's be honest. But like one or two smokes every week on average compared to half a pack a day three years ago??? BOOOOOOOM. I obviously deserve like, 8000 blowjobs. My lungs & voice agree.

I exercise regularly now. Honestly, I actually fucking do this. Imagine, this weird habit that makes you feel awesome and gives you energy... that ISN'T cocaine! Whoaaaaaa!!!! AMAZING. So how, you ask, did I manage to get on this train and successfully combat my acute CLD (chronic laziness disorder)? Well, I've been putting all that extra smoking money into yoga & kickboxing sessions. I know, I know, I don't NEEED to do that, but I find that for regular exercise to work for me, I need to rely heavily on the "social-shame" factor of going to group classes. By this I mean that once you show up, you can't really stop or leave without looking like an asshole. Since social anxiety is a much more developed quality in me than self-discipline, I find that this works like a charm. Try it out. And if you have trouble getting to the classes themselves, pick a friend that you hate bailing on and make a regular date with them. I picked Tristan Risk, who is pretty and scary at the same time.



See? You wouldn't really want to fuck with her, nor would you want to miss a chance to see her all sweaty. I'm telling you, it works. And before you get into the whole "so expensive, why don't you just download exercise videos" thing, yes it's expensive and yes I HAVE downloaded those exercise videos before. But, not gonna lie, I sometimes end up just watching them and eating chips. Like that HipHop Abs shit? Um, yum. That guy is fucking HOT, even if he's definately gay. Carmen Electra is another one of my favorites. Cheesy as fuck but wow. OK I'm gettin distracted here. Moving on.

I also changed my diet pretty intensely, which was needed. I'm not gonna name any names, but there used to be some bitch walking around in my apt that liked to make a box of instant stuffing as a snack. I'm not saying I'm a crazy raw food vegan now or anything but I'm definitely hanging out in veggie land more often now. It's not so bad. Turns out there's lots of different kinds! And some of them are cute! Brussel sprouts, for example. Ohhhh... like tiny cabbages! Also mini corns! And I discovered that yellow wax beans chilled kind of look and crunch like french fries. Sort of. Especially if you're high.

Ok here's the real kicker. Recently I discovered that wheat & cow dairy are no longer my friends via a series of homeopathic tests I underwent to identify what's been causing my chronic allergy symptoms. This was totally traumatizing for me. I know a lot of people would argue wheat & dairy are no one's friends anyway... but let me tell you something motherfuckers, cheese was my fucking FRIEND. Ok? Cheese was always there for me. It didn't judge me or berate me or stand me up or let me down. Ever. It was my friend and we had a really intimate relationship for a long, long time. I'm being totally serious. I fucking. Love. Cheese. But as with all relationships that are super physically satisfying yet inherently unhealthy, it was time to face the stupid fucking truth (sniff), have one last hunk of swiss, and then say goodbye. Because fuck it. It's not worth it. Lord knows if I could dump the so-hot-in-bed-dude who finally admitted he thought burlesque was "tacky" in my 20's, I can damn-well kick the cheese that's making me sick in my 30's, right?

At least I live in the fucking hippie tra-la-la capital of the world where I can find goat & daiya products up the ying-yang of every corner of Commercial Drive.(I'm actually still not entirely sure what Daiya is, but apparently it melts, so it gets my support). Plus there is a ton of non-wheat shit out there now too. I mean half the frickin' planet is full of people that don't even have food. So I'm just gonna shut the fuck up and eat these vegetables and daiya shit and carry on. Plus they make goat brie now, and I can have that. Everything's actually fine. Honestly.

Now as you can imagine (and as I've mentioned in a few previous posts) this combination of events has resulted in a bit of a recent weight loss. And I imagine that this weight loss won't really stop until my body settles at the weight it naturally wants to be when I am, shock of shocks, eating properly and exercising regularly. You know, so, acting like a normal person who respects her body and shit.

This seemed to me like a good thing until I got a series of facebook messages along the same lines as these:

"You better stop shrinking."

"That was good, but I like you curvier better."

"Just don't get too skinny."

Or my personal favorite, which went like so:

"You're not gonna turn into a skinny bitch, are you? Think of all the people you'd be disappointing".

Uh...

Now normally I wouldn't give a fuck about random comments hurtled towards my body size (trust me, I have endured everything from kiddie insults to the much-worse "but I think I'm just too superficial for you" heart-smushing guy rejections). These ones stuck out though because I really do care quite a bit about the people who come to my shows, read my blog, watch my videos, etc. You could say I feel endebted to them, to say the least. So it didn't really make me feel very good when I started getting approached at gigs with people saying the same things, essentially, over and over... and not to be complementary. Certain acquaintances and even a former employer started poking criticisms at me for "shrinking" with evident disdain. I had some sad face. I tried to ignore it but it kept happening.

I realize that it's not every day you see a performer my size confidently prancing around in outfits smaller than postage stamps, and I'm grateful that I've been able to help "round out" the conventional beauty standard in my industry a bit (so to speak). But I'm a little confused by these reactions, because I kinda thought that the whole point was that my dress size didn't define my ability to entertain an audience. It didn't when I was auditioning for TV roles in my late teens, and it doesn't now. And I should very much hope that my curviness isn't the only ENTIRE REASON people enjoy my work!! I mean, after officially doing this for ten years, please, oh lord please, please also let it be because I'm KIND OF AWESOME?? Maybe? Hopefully? A little even?

Also. This may come as a giant shock, but a lot of "skinny bitches" are my best friends. If we are going to stop allotting social value to how much a person weighs, IT CAN'T BE A DOUBLE STANDARD, ummkayyyy. So stop with the skinny bitch routine, I'm not into it. I'm also not into being labeled a BBW, so straight dudes, stop pushing me into a porn category or asking me where my black boyfriend is. Seriously. I've dated all kinds, including crazy hot girls, couples, and dudes who have dated me AND skinny supermodels... so SETTLE DOWN. Also - and this is a controversial one but this is how I personally feel about it- producers. Please stop asking me to do shows that only feature bigger women. Meh. It's even worse when they call it "real" women. NEWS FLASH: We are all "real women", size 22 or 2. We stand together. That's how this works. It's the only way it CAN work, in my opinion.

So I just wanted to respond to any concerns of my gorgeous and much-appreciated show peeps who may be speculating about what's up: I'm still the same human and I stand for the same things. I didn't lose weight to be accepted or to conform then, I'm not doing it for "acceptance" now. To do that would be going against everything I stand for. And while I'll always be curvy (I'm never gonna disappear, trust me darlings... I wasn't built for that), I am gonna take care of myself. I wanna be around to do this for awhile. I have to be.

So yeah. Exercising, breaking up with cow cheese & calming my vices has been fucking hard, but I did it... well, for the most part. And by gosh I'm gonna take a minute to pat myself on the motherfucking back. And don't you forget to do the same thing ummmkay. Or I will eat your fucking daiya when you're not looking.

Just so you can see what I mean, a pic from a few years ago...


and a newer one from this past year....




Wanna to be able to do a giant show every night you know? That shit takes stamina mothereff's. Did you know Mick Jagger still runs 12 miles a day to keep up his stage endurance?? What the fuck. What the FUCK. No wonder he managed to bone so many chicks. That alone sounded pretty physically demanding, not gonna lie.

Wanted to leave you with a vid of Warrior's Performance where I deliberately accentuate my thighs. Thunder thighs of power! I used to giggle (and obviously be sad back in the day) when people called me thunder thighs because I was like, "uh... as if that doesn't sound like a super power, dumbasses".



And ps, if you're going to get on the movement train may I shamelessly recommend any of the extra sassy fun classes at Vancouver Burlesque Centre and specifically, Brenda Holmes' Yoga class. She's the best yoga instructor I've ever had. Ever. Seriously. Super warm vibes, knowledgeable, clear and has the sickest music during class. If these rates are still too pricey for you e-mail me & I will let you know about a karma class that she does.

Oh man. I am so so full of excitedness about this year I can barely handle it.
Trust me when I say this... you ain't seen NOTHING yet.

Huge love,
xoxoo
CP

Up on everybody's Skrillex - Grammy steez.

Soooooo... BIG NEWS EVERYBODY. Skrillex got a billion Grammy nominations! (Ok, not a billion, but like, 5. Which is like 80 hundred thousand in the electronic music world). This of course has spawned a bunch of hilarious reactionary shizzle and many many blogs wondering WHY and IF this dude should get nominated. Clearly I need to participate. Puhlayse. Like I could resist.

So I get online and there is already a healthy facebook thread started by supreme sass FunkHunter Nick Middleton, and among many yay! or boo! comments (Nick was a yay, fyi) this one stood out for me by Timothy Wisdom:

"I think people hate on Skrillex because of this: Dubstep started as a "cool" niche genre of music that had only a small number of fans. Let's call them "heads", however the dubstep they listened to isn't very much like Skrillex's music at all. The "heads" like being part of an exclusive group as it makes them feel special and unique - something that most of us enjoy feeling. Then dubstep became a mainstream genre and the "heads" lost a part of their exclusive identity. It's natural for people to instinctively reach for exterior blame and Skrillex (and Rusko prior to this) has become the scapegoat. I believe this has happened with loads of other types of music as well. I recall being angry at the Red Hot Chillies for making "Blood Sugar" and selling out their punk roots - and Nirvana for the same reason. Really, I was just upset at loosing my "I'm more punk than you" vibe. The same applies here."

So here's what I have to think about this, because honestly I've seen a lot of the same mentality that Tim is talking about in the burlesque community over the years. To be honest, I think a lot of “heads” don't really have much investment anymore in being part of a super-cool, elusive extra punk group. I think now they'd much rather get flown around & make a ton of money (and not at the expense of their musical integrity), especially after struggling for the last dozen years. I think the general frustration comes from realizing that the type of music that Skrillex makes has a mass appeal in a way that the headier music might never. As sensitive artist types, we have a reaction - because what does that say about the masses? It's not unlike pop music in that way. And the frustrating reality is that not everyone gives a fuck about the nuances of music the same way that artists do. NOT EVERYONE IS AN ARTIST. My sister is a good example of this. She doesn't give a fuck. She just wants to dance, and rage. Also – she won't go out LOOKING for specific music the same way artists & DJs do, and so most people who just want to rage will do so to the best thing they can find THAT IS HANDED TO THEM. This is also frustrating because it The Hand looks for mass appeal for an entirely different reason: capitalism.

Personally, I'm stoked for the Skrillex dude because it seems that coincidentally he genuinely enjoys making music that has mass appeal. It seems at least like he rose to fame the old-school way, instead of being “made” by the industry. I'd MUCH rather see his face on TV than a boyband. I think the masses love his music for a reason and need it. I don't listen to it, but apparently I am not the only person that matters. (If I was, Rupaul would be president and I would be writing this from a pink helicopter).

Now. As to how it will affect our community, I think that has more to do with what Tim's saying. Skillex's success (and the success of the mainstream-ish dubstep acts in general) has definitely cracked open the "secret" door to our underground, non-corporate event world like Shambhala. Ummm... that shit is selling out 9 months in advance now??? SERIOUSLY. WHAT the FUCK?? I really feel that it's so important to not lose sight of the fact that this is AMAZING FOR US. Puhlayse. I don't know a DJ who doesn't fucking love performing at Shambs. Don't even fucking try to tell me that you know someone who doesn't love bangin' out on those systems, or playing to the massive crowds of people LOSING THEIR SHIT. And so what if the crowd contains a whole wack of new kids who heard about it through Skillex? Who cares? That's fine, and great. I didn't become a burlesque dancer so I could perform only to other burlesque dancers & their friends for my whole life. That's the whole reason WHY I dance at Shambs, or at Keefer, or in the Yukon, or even at a frickin' retirement home (I seriously did that with Lola last year. It was fancy. And awesome. And they FUCKING LOVED it). Because I want to bring what I'm doing to new audiences. Because I'll never forget that moment, at 15, when I heard my first hard-core DJ. Or when, at 21, I saw my first burlesque dancer. And trust me, I was FAR from super cool or in the exclusive group or knew anything about anything back then. All I can say is, thank god that happened. Can you imagine if it hadn't!?? OMG. I shudder at the thought.

At the end of the day, we will always still have our more exclusive, artist-oriented events. They will always be there, they will always materialize (Basscoast comes to mind). And there we can feel all super cool and listen to "future music" or whatever the fuck we are calling it that week and spend the money we made performing for AWESOME new kids who just want to be inspired. Yay. EVERYBODY WINS.

SO. Good for you, Skrillex. From what I hear you are a super nice dude and I couldn't be happier for you. And if any of the shit talk gets you down, just buy some louder fucking speakers. GO FORTH VALIANT BROSTEPPER!!!

xoxo
CP

PS: Oh yeah, valiance. In case you haven't heard... the whole Dollhouse crew is getting together to throw a giant party on NYE... underground... and let me tell you, it is REALLY REALLY NOT going to suck.



All the detes are here. It is going to be SEVERE. Seriously. SERIOUSLY.

ok for real now.
xoxo
CP

My Burlesque is Feminist, So Sit The Fuck Down and Enjoy It Already

"I have a suspicion — and hear me out, because this is a rough one — that the definition of ‘crazy’ in show business is a woman who keeps talking even after no one wants to fuck her anymore.” -Tina Fey

Oh Hi!!!!!!!! Aries Full Moon time!!! Means CP is rarrrrring to go. Seriously I cannot wait for my show tomorrow at Keefer; I'm full of fire and sass and passion and sizzla-max electricity and I'm putting some hell spittin' heat into a new track by Self Evident. RRRRROARRRR. Life is fucking rad right now and it's only getting better. Occupy Vancouver is on Saturday and my grrlz and I are gonna go RAGE it. HARD. So into it... HYPED.

I'm also SUPER pumped to go see MissRepresentation at Vancouver International Film Festival on Friday, which deals primarily with how more bitches need to be helping run media and politics and shit. That way we can stop the greedy-ass capitalist agenda'd 1% assholes from tricking us into spending all our time, money and energy bleaching our assholes instead of making the world a better place.

Oh yes, you heard me. The beauty industry literally has NOTHING LEFT to criticize except our assholes. Our assholes! That's how fucking ridiculous it's gotten. Because now apparently, every woman's asshole is a SHAMEFUL, DIRTY HOLE - unless you spend hundreds of dollars putting peroxide and harmful chemicals on it so that it is prettier and whiter (because whiter = not DIRTY and GROSS), so that "men" will want to fuck our assholes more. BECAUSE HAVING A LIGHT PINK, FUCKABLE ASSHOLE IS REALLY REALLY IMPORTANT EVERYBODY. $75-a-treatment important! (Or do it yourself at home for only $39.95!)

Of course upon hearing this I immediately called fellow Sweet Soul grrl Tristan Risk to hurry over and bleach my asshole. I have a date this weekend dammit!!! I couldn't possibly want anyone to see my DIRTY, UNBLEACHED ASSHOLE. Oh my god, I would like, totally die. (Thankfully friend & photog David Denofreo was there to capture it... you can click to enlarge and get Tristan's technique here).



Hey, you know who I think is a dirty, unbleached asshole? Ummm... how about the fucker who came up with this fucking bullshit?? This is so preposterous that even fucking COSMO is warning their readers against it, and you know it's REALLY bad when THAT happens.

Now of course this is yet another example of a porn-star fad turning mainstream and it deeply, deeply concerns me. Because it sounds absurd but the horrible truth is that it really, really does feel like that being fuckable is the most important quality a woman can possess, over intelligence, creativity, kindness... any other characteristic or accomplishment. Throughout history we've been taught this, both women and men. It's fucking infuriating and unfair and awful but hey, it sells anal bleach! Plus it distracts us from trying to speak up or try to do the things that the men are busy doing like running the country, and it keeps us feeling anxious and shitty and broke and making tanning appointments. As long as we're alll spending our time and money trying to look like pornstars (or a thinly disguised pornstar with tattoos and glasses or whatever), we'll have some semblance of value, self-worth and clout. So I guess we should all keep doing that right?

Oh.. except guess what? While I do enjoy feeling like I'm sexually attractive --- at least to some people, and perferably to one that I too find sexually attractive ---  I DON'T WANT TO SPEND ALL MY TIME OBSESSING OVER THAT, because it's exhausting and honestly, kind of set up to be an unattainable trap. So where does that leave me? Hmm. Sheeeeeeeeeeit.

Now we're obviously touching on the political side of why I do what I do right on the head here so I'm gonna get into it a little. Honestly, I do understand why people are sometimes confused as to how I can be a topless rapping performer who spends thousands every year on costumes and make-up and yet still be a hard-core feminist against asshole bleaching. It actually makes more sense than you might think. At the end of the day it all comes down to calling the shots about where and how I decide to be sexual, instead of having other people decide that for me.

First up, I have never enjoyed having my "fuckability" in ANY WAY be a factor when it comes to people interacting with me other than in a way that involves me possibly also wanting to have sex with them. Whether I'm being interviewed for a job, preparing a seminar for a company, auditioning for a voice-over gig, walking past a construction site, or choosing produce in the grocery store, I am usually not putting myself out there to be measured and evaluated for my fuckability. AND YET, it seems that there are still men in the world who don't really understand that my main purpose in life is not to be sexually appealing to them. This frustrates me to no end. This is why I love my punk rock grrlz, my riot grrlz and my queer friends who aesthetically move away from what is largely considered standard quo as far as "hetero-fuckibility".  YES!! I enjoy them a lot. At the same time, I also enjoy fucking men (as well as women), and my general aesthetic and demeanor is super duper femme (which is still up for debate in terms of whether that's a socialization thing, a past life thing, or just a subjective preference thing).

Enter burlesque. Now, burlesque opens doors for me because as a hyper femme who is a drag-lover by nature (I refer to drag by the general definition as a term for "dressed as a girl"), the idea of disregarding what MEN might think is sexy and instead deciding what I think is sexy is extremely appealing, especially in  the exaggerated level of hyper-sexual lingerie. It's an exercise is reclamation.  What's hilarious is that most of all drag comes from different changing eras of what was once found attractive but then ws pushed aside to make room for the next, thus proving that fashion, allure and style are all fluid and not to be taken too seriously. I can twist all forced and learned beauty standards from all the eras to make them MINE; pull and push and pick and choose and stretch them to fit my own subjective ideals, tastes, tendencies, body. My own personal version of fabulous, tongue in cheek. Then I add my other qualities in layers like words, wit, passion, politics, humour, talents... MY way. Then I take them ALL to the stage and I give my audience PERMISSION to look at me, watch me, enjoy me, hear me. I am not in the checkout at the grocery store. I am not walking down the street. On stage, as in the bedroom with a lover, I am freeing myself. I am giving you the option to see me as a sexual being when and where I choose to. I am in my sexual power. I am representing myself as a multi-layered, dynamic, real woman. It's basically me re-writing the script of my every day reality.

Now as an entertainer, I always want the audience to be entertained, but also I want (hopefully) for this to help build broader scopes of beauty and power; to bring something to them that feels three dimensional and not pure powerless inane sextoy bullshit. New brushstrokes so that in turn people are inspired to run with their own flavour. An expansion for use in the daily struggle. The idea is to hopefully free everyone a little from trying to fit the pornstar fuckability mold (which is EXHAUSTING, I HATE IT) while still admitting that we all want to feel fuckable. Cuz I love to fuck. I do. And straight-up rejecting all beauty aids or pretending that I don't want to be desired is unrealistic, unsustainable and kind of dishonest.

SO that's where my liberation comes from. That's why it feels like progress to me. Ummmkayyyyyy???

Now if we can just get our unbleached assholes onto a bigger platform things might start getting interesting. Heh heh heh ;)

Hold tight Sasspumps. See you at the Art Gallery Saturday.

Huge love & panther growlzzz.

xoxo
CP

THANKSGIVINGS

I've been spending a lot of time alone lately... doing chores, reading, walking. Exercising. Singing. Getting things right in my head. Practicing my performances. (Still always floors me how practicing make you better at things - without fail! So simple. Amazing). As my mother once so accurately observed, for someone oft considered an extrovert, I'm quite introspective. She always made us do that thing around the table at Thanksgiving dinner; you know, where everyone has to take turns saying what they are thankful for. I still remember the little turkey I made in pre-school with a giant pine-cone I picked up off the ground up in Smithers; little construction paper feathers sticking up out of the layers. It was put out on the table every year well into my teens. What a great little kid craft idea. I wonder if she still has it.


I have a billion things on the list right now but a lot of them are minor and random, like for example I'm pumped Esthero is finally working on a new album (called Everything is Expensive, which I fucking love) and I'm really into Coconut Bliss vegan hazelnut fudge ice cream (trust me on this, it is AMAZING. Get some. Go). What can I say... I tend to derive the greatest pleasure in the details. In the end though these are the five biggies.

First and foremost, I am thankful that my sister is alive. I am tremendously proud of her for continuing to fight and heal in the face of a vicious and merciless addiction. I am so, SO grateful that she is here today. She is a survivor and a warrior and a fighter and she inspires the shit out of me. I think about her every day.

My sisters, my sasspots, my gentlemen, my mentors, my heros, my loves, my mirrors, my inspiration, my heart... my family. You make me the trillest, the richest. Thank you.

I am increasingly grateful to understand that there are beautiful and unseen subtleties and complexities in all living things, and in people who choose to represent themselves to me in any form. In turn I understand that my projected stage persona does not represent the entirety of who I am and I'm very grateful to have not been seduced into losing myself into any ultimately self-limiting illusions, despite of my vivid imagination and considerable ego. I am so grateful that that my boots - and heels - hit the ground. I really wanna keep 'em there.


I am insanely, unfathomably grateful for the opportunity to live the way I want to without apology. That I am not necessarily expected to marry a man, bear a child, sleep with my boss, wear conservative clothing or, horror of horrors, hold my tongue. Seriously. Who would I be? I don't even know if that person could exist. Honestly. I know this is not to be taken for granted EVER in our world, and that many have fought for this for me. I am grateful to be a sexually overt performer and a stripper without being shunned, shamed, harassed or written off as stupid, sinful and desperate by the majority of the population. Just two generations ago, I know it was a very different story. I am grateful that I am able to live as I choose.


I am very, very thankful for my voice, and for all the gifts with which I was blessed as a human. I am grateful that these gifts were fostered by my mother, and that they were given fire and purpose by my experiences with my father. I am grateful that I have the courage to do what I feel I am meant to do. To me this is the only real way to show gratitude to the universe for what I have been given, and so I will continue to do share these gifts to the best of my ability. Forever.

Thank you.
<3

xoox
CP

SWEET SIP ONE YEAR ANNIVERSARY OFFICIAL PRESS RELEASE

September 15, 2011 FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE
THE KEEFER BAR & SWEET SOUL BURLESQUE CELEBRATE ONE YEAR with A SASSQUERADE SPECTACULAR!

It's not just the steady stream of well-liquored guests that have taxis lined up outside the Keefer Bar on Thursday nights. The critically acclaimed Sweet Soul Burlesque dancers have been perfecting their intimate cabaret show there for the past year, glittering visibly from the street through a large picture window.

"The stage is flush up against the patio, so I suppose passers-by - or cab drivers - tend to get a good view," says Crystal Precious, producer and host of the night, with a wink. "Luckily we're not exactly shy."

After 8 years of producing their own shows at various venues around the city (including their own underground venue, the now de-funct Dollhouse Studios), Vancouver's original professional burlesque troupe have settled into a permanent residency at the upscale China Town hotspot. October 6th marks the one year anniversary of the Keefer staff serving up luscious libations along to the fabulous Sweet Soul femmes every Thursday night.

"It just makes perfect sense," says Keefer manager Danielle Tatarin of the partnership. "We're trying to create a sensual experience, but not too serious or pretentious... a place where you know the service and cocktails will be top-notch but can you can still have a laugh and maybe still see something onstage that surprises you." Not satisfied with just straight vintage striptease, the Sweet Soul girls are also known to rap, sing, incorporate magic tricks or add circus feats to the mix.

"We work really hard to keep the show fresh & lively," says Vancouver's infamous rock n' roll flapper, Sweet Soul girl Lola Frost. "It's important to us to present varied takes on what 'sexy' can mean while keeping up the quality of the performances. We want to send the message that it's possible be creative, diverse, sexy and fun all at the same time."

The anniversary show on October 6th will be a grand masquerade, or "Sassquerade", with live feed of the performances projected around the bar. Guests are encouraged to wear masks (or they can use one of the fabulous ones provided at the door). The night's acts will feature group burlettas, special surprise guests and specials from sponsors Cointreau & Jack Daniels. Doors at 9, shows begin at 10pm and last call will be at 1am.

****

Sweet Sip Thursdays One Year Anniversay Sassquerade Spectacular
October 6th, 2011 @ The Keefer Bar
135 Keefer St, Chinatown Vancouver

Regular admission is $10
For more information, media guest list or more hi-resolution images, please contact crystalpreciousproductions@gmail.com.

Image attached of Sweet Soul Burlesque's Little Miss Risk by David Denofreo.

-30-

***

About The Keefer Bar:

The Keefer Bar is a place where you can come to escape the rush and unwind in a unique atmosphere where cocktails, food and music are in harmony. The intricately designed cocktail program focuses on Apothecary style drinks created to soothe ailments and balance one’s mood. Ingredients for the Asian influenced small plated food and specially crafted drinks are sourced from local Chinatown markets and herbalists. Bar Manager, Danielle Tatarin and Creative Director, Free Lee work with their team to develop the exceptional atmosphere and unique house made tinctures, bitters, syrups and teas to incorporate into the pre-prohibition influenced drinks.

About Sweet Soul Burlesque:

Sweet Soul Burlesque is Western Canada’s longest running professional neo-burlesque troupe. Founded in 2003 out of a passion for the genuine DIY pin-up grrl culture, Sweet Soul strives to raise the bar by creating fun, ground-breaking burlesque performances that are of unequaled production value. From ribbon staffs to giant venus fly traps to fire tricks to life-sized jack-in-the boxes, each Sweet Soul dancer (Cara Milk, Cherry OnTop, Crystal Precious, Little Miss Risk, Lola Frost & Rita Star) has spent years individually crafting her own persona & performance style. Get ready for a vibrant mash-up of classic striptease with elements of hip hop, underground dance culture & punk rock.

Since their inception, Sweet Soul Burlesque has quickly become internationally reknown and has been featured in the Globe & Mail, CBC Television and Radio, Fashion TV, MuchMusic & MTV and has appeared at hundreds of events & festivals across the continent, from the Pemberton Music Festival to the New York Burlesque Festival. In 2010 they were honoured with a nomination for World’s Best Troupe at the International Burlesque Hall of Fame in Las Vegas.