There are a few bits in our current routine that are freestyle - i.e. not choreographed. One of them is a little walk of about, oooh, three to four steps, across the stage.
"OK," says I, "what we're after here is a bit of slutty strolling to take you back to where you were standing a few moves ago."

Now, there appears to be nothing more likely to take the sexiness out of the showgirl than the surprise invitation to vamp it up a bit in her own way. Hoping for a sort of slow, meaningful stroll, laden with meaning and promise, what we got was a sort of cheeky, bouncy, "aw right then, missus, ow's yer father", Cockney Sparrer strut, one step short of twanging braces and tipping a cap, Artful Dodger style. Brilliant, just brilliant, but not exactly sexy.
We settled instead for what shall become known as the "whatevs" move - the confident, careless, promenade of the gorgeous, sexy woman who knows that she's fabulous but - frankly, my dear - couldn't give a damn whether you take her up on it or not.
Still, the cheery, knees-bendy, Michael-Jackson-singing-"Rockin'-Robin"-long-before-his-voice-broke style of bouncy little walk is rather endearing and will definitely be missed. :-)
Yours, loving our showgirls and their inventiveness,
Burlicious x
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