Full disclosure – I interviewed one of my friends last week for express. I have been friends with the adorable Miss Phloss – the pink-haired firecracker you see on the cover – for a number of years. Back in our barely legal days, we both frequented Auckland’s regular hard house dance parties, before meeting up again through express, and later roller derby, where we ended up on the same team. Through this variety of connections, I’ve got to know just how stunning this girl is, inside and out. Whether it’s inviting every queer girl in the neighbourhood over for pizza nights or pepping a frazzled derby skater up during a stressful game, Phloss has never wanted anything more than to see everyone in the world happy, healthy, confident and smiling.


It was this joie de vivre that had me interested in the prospect of interviewing Phloss about her interest in the art of burlesque, and her upcoming project Queerlesque – a vaudeville variety show featuring GLBT performers from all walks of life. During the course of our interview, Phloss got to talking about the various misconceptions around burlesque – in particular the idea that burlesque is ‘anti-feminist’ because of its apparent objectification of women. I understand that there are a number of grey areas around the art of burlesque – bodies are on show and applause happens when clothes come off – but I stop short at understanding why people consider it anti-feminist.


Why do I consider showing off your body a feminist act? Here’s why.


After a very debilitating battle with an eating disorder some years back, I started attending therapy at a centre called EDEN. Through intensive weekly sessions with quite possibly the most wonderful, kind and patient counsellor in the known world, I learned to cope with feelings of body dysmorphia, body hatred and self-loathing. I learned to accept my body – bumps, bruises, lumps and all – and realised that in the world we live in today, body acceptance is the most defiant feminist act there is. I stopped reading magazines that told me my body wasn’t good enough, I stopped listening to that voice in my head that told me I was disgusting for not looking like Kate Moss or Nicole Richie. I started playing a physical sport that demanded I nourish and condition my body. And then one day, I turned around and realised I wasn’t mentally shouting at the mirror any more. I wasn’t weighing myself ten times a day or fasting for days at a time. I remember how empowered I felt to have a body that could do wonderful, strong, powerful things. For the first time in my entire life, I felt proud and body positive.


My journey to self-acceptance landed me in the world of women’s contact sport. The journey for many burlesque performers landed them in oversized champagne glasses flicking a pair of nipple tassels around and winking at the audience. Does it matter where we find our strength and pride, so long as we find it?


Say what you will about burlesque, stripping or anything that puts the female body on show, but don’t say it’s anti-feminist. Our bodies are one of our most prized possessions and they should be celebrated in whatever way makes us feel happiest.


| Hannah JV

editor@gayexpress.co.nz