Coquette: “AFP + TTO = Best Night Ever”

1 06 2009

A whiiiile ago, I was invited to perform as a go-go dancer at the Theater Offensive’s annual fundraiser, ClimACTS (which was on Tuesday, 4/28). It’s circus-themed, it’s in the Big Apple Circus tent, it’s $175 a ticket and well, just. Obviously, I said yes. Hi, have you met me?

What I didn’t find out until the night beforehand was that the ringmaster this year was Amanda Fucking Palmer. So the phone call to Dirty Nellie (who was also go-go dancing with me) went something like this-

Me: Um, did you know Amanda Palmer was hosting?!
Dirty Nellie: Wait…what?
Me: Because I figured you would have TOLD ME if you knew! And I didn’t know!
DN: Wait…what?
Me: OMG OMG OMG. OMG. OMG we’re going to dance in front of Amanda Palmer.
DN: Wait…what?

So yes, I got there and got all checked in and then put on my outfit, which was, from bottom to top: pink high-top converses, lace top fishnet thigh highs(over dance tights), black booty shorts with “Harlots like it on all fours” on the ass in red, black garter belt with pink velvet trim, short sheer crinoline flouncy-flounce skirt, black canvas corset with white polka dots, black satin bra, incredibly tacky black “onyx” and rhinestone necklace, pink satin ribbon tied around my ponytail, and a metric ton of silver glitter in my hair. I wore the high tops because I wasn’t sure how much dancing I’d be doing or for how long. And thank fuck I did that, because as it was, my legs almost fell off from dancing, and I can’t imagine how I would have fared if my feet were all busted up from wearing heels all night, too.

So, they gave us a tour of the whole place beforehand, so we could direct people, and lo and behold, in the big tent, there was Amanda Palmer, finishing up her sound check. Nellie and I mildly freak out. Somehow, we manage to just watch her sing and not run into the ring and molest her. N and I got selected to fire confetti guns at the end of the show, so keep in mind that for all my !!!, at the end of the night, I ended up basically assaulting Amanda just to look at her outfit, which was a flouncy Moulin Rouge-y corset made entirely out of blue sequins and gold beaded fringe. (Amanda barely noticed, she was talking to drag queens).

But! Before I had had enough to drink to manage Not Being An Idiot, there was the VIP reception! Which involved many go-go dancers, and me being ordered to mingle and be fabulous, and also being told that the drinks were being mixed to kill (and that was accurate – I had a martini, I thought it was going to mug me). And at one point, I accidentally walked into someone else walking cross-wise, and her drink ended up mostly all over me, and only somewhat back in her glass. I said, “Ohmygod, I am so sorry! Do you want me to get you another one?” And she said, “No, that’s fine. It’s…all over you.” [gestures to my rack] Me: “Oh, do you want to lick it off?” Her: “Okay!” And so that happened.

And then N and I noticed Amanda Palmer mingling in the crowd, and so I walked over and was all, “Hi, um, I’m really glad you’re here and I just wanted to introduce myself.” And she said thanks and she was glad to be a part of the event, and how great Theater Offensive was. And I agreed, and when she shook my hand, she held my hand with both of hers and it was awesome. And then she looked down at my rack, went, “Oh god, these are huge!”

And then she touched them.

And I was like, “Well, um.” And then WITH HANDS STILL ON MY RACK, she goes “I wish mine were bigger.” And then she grabbed HER boobs. And I was like “UM NO YOURS ARE GRATE. ALSOILOVEYOURBELLY.” And she was like, “now THAT is nice and big!” and she started rubbing her belly. And then I just…could not stand there anymore, and so I was like, “Well, I know you’re supposed to be shmoozing with donors, so I don’t want to monopolize you.” And she said, “Okay, byeeee.” And reached out and RAN HER HAND FROM MY SHOULDER ALL THE WAY DOWN TO MY WRIST and sloooooowly walked away, all the while looking at me.


Oh, and when we got back to the performer tent, there was a draq queen pillow fight. DRAG QUEEN PILLOW FIGHT. And I turned to Dirty Nellie and said, “this is seriously one of the best nights of my life.”

Coqette: “Dr. Sketchy’s is Making Me Effin’ Crazy”

2 12 2008

So tonight, in case you are somehow unaware, I am the artist’s model for Dr. Sketchy. (Details about the event are in the Upcoming Performances tab up top, or just one post below this one on the main page.) I’m modeling solo, because the organizer is trial-running a night-time version (usually it’s Sunday afternoons), and she was worried about the attendance, yadda yadda, only one model in case there’s no $.

I am not worried about the $. Spoiler alert: dancers generally don’t get paid very well. I am not even worried about sitting still for that long; I’m exhausted today, so if anything, I may end up taking a 20-minute nap on stage and start drooling. Sexass.

What I am worried about is going up there alone. Not because I don’t like being on stage by myself – I totally, totally like it, probably in a Secretly Very Revealing About Her Psyche way – but because I don’t like that I can’t move. If I can’t move, I can’t see how my jokes are going over with the entire crowd. I can’t make eye contact and charm people. I can’t say something and gradually smile while I say it, which is up there with, “nodding your head while talking,” in the list of ways to get people to subconsciously like you.

You’re reading this going, “Damn, Coquette tries too hard.” Maybe I do. But I don’t think so, because if you’re saying it, you probably already like me, and if you like me, then it’s probably because I’ve already charmed the hell out of you. Which is what I’m supposed to do – I’m a self-promoting performer. And it’s also what I’m supposed to do because, aside from the actual sketching, I sort of *am* the event…or more accurately, I’m the Key Prop. And if the Key Prop is a wet blanket, then it’s going to be a loooong 2.5 hours.

This was going to be the usual, “Hey! Event! Tonight!” excitement building post, and I would love to do that. But my mother is in town tonight (and will be at Dr. Sketchy’s — everyone come out and say hi to my mom! …yeah, still sounds weird), and today has been kind of awful on all fronts. Pretty much the last thing I feel capable of doing is being sexy and wonderful in front of strangers, but that would be why they call it acting.

So if you read this blog and you come out tonight (which you should – there will be Christmas music, because I’m unashamedly That Girl), think of yourself as getting the back-stage pass into my brain. And please feel free to come say hi and tell me if I’m faking it well or not. 🙂

Coquette: “Dr. Sketchy 2: Sketch Harder”

26 11 2008
held that pose for 20 minutes, and then couldn't feel my hand for 20 more.

That’s right, darlings!  Dr. Sketchy’s model this time around is little ol’ me, and I will be glamming it up, Naughty Santa Style.  And!  It’s at nighttime!  Which is the right time…for sketching me.  Here are the official details:

Dr. Sketchy is what happens when cabaret meets art school.

Tuesday December 2, 2008 7-9:30pm
NIGHTTIME Dr. Sketchy’s Anti-Art School Burlesque Life Drawing Session
featuring: Coquette! From Big Moves!
Great Scott
1222 Commonwealth Ave (corner of Harvard and Commonwealth), Allston
$7 7-9:30pm 18+ (bring your ID, this is a bar)
We’re going to try an evening Dr. Sketchy to see if it’s attractive to folks. So write this in your calendar and please join us after work for evening drinks and drawing. Feel free to bring dinner with you, or have it delivered!

Come on out, stop in for a drink and a sketch. Mention the blog and I’ll kiss your cheek!

Coquette: “Opening tomorrow: HOT. BUFFET. OMG.”

15 10 2008

It’s finally here! My thoughts on the subject to follow later…probably after the run is through. But for now, have the full official blurb. And come to the show, if you know what’s good for you. T’will be excellent.

Big Moves presents:
(a dystopian musical satire)

October 16-18* and 24-25, 2008
Doors 7:30 PM | Curtain 8:00 PM
Cambridge Family YMCA Theater
820 Mass Ave., Cambridge
General admission: $15/adv., $20/door
VIP seating: $20/adv., $25/door (if available)
Student rush: $10 (15 min. before curtain, w/student ID)
Limited dinner/dessert tasting menu available

Buy advance tickets and tasting packages online at

{ When self-denial is the law of the land,
the pursuit of pleasure will be a crime… }

After studying culinary arts for 7 years in Europe, Andrea returns to a United States she barely recognizes. By 2028, dieting is practically a religion, sexuality is stuffed tightly away, and the state has no qualms about interfering in either. Andrea’s friend Chrissy has a unique role in this brave new world: she’s a dancer and professional eater at Hot Buffet, one of the few establishments in the city where patrons can indulge just about any carnal appetite. Andrea gets work in the kitchen, and Chrissy is making money hand over chocolate-smeared fist.

Meanwhile, the Boss and her lover, the Emcee, do their best to keep the joint jumping, the marks fed, and their little bohemian family safe from the chaos and uncertainty in the outside world. But as society’s disdain for the pleasures of the flesh boils over into outright persecution, the tattered velvet ropes at the Hot Buffet may not be enough to keep the mobs at bay.

With ensemble dancers of all shapes and sizes and a passionate cast drawn from the best of Boston’s community theater scene, Hot Buffet delivers a searing indictment of a Big Brother future we can’t ignore and may not be able to escape.

NOTE: this show is for MATURE AUDIENCES ONLY, owing to adult themes and partial nudity.

deluxe mac ‘n’ cheese
finger-lickin’ spare ribs
backdoor fudge delight
coffee (with rich cream)
full-calorie sodas
Additional charge for having items eaten in front of you by one of our dancers.

*Thursday, October 16, is pay-what-you-can night! (suggested donation: $10)

Coquette: “Who Else Hasn’t Sarah Palin Met Before?”

3 10 2008

OMG, do you see now that I was not joking when I said that I cannot shut up about Sarah Palin? I thought I was done! I thought I’d let the venom out for the day.

I was totally wrong.

So, something happened last night when the debate started. I watch on CNN, because CNN has crazy-making analyst insta-responses, and some sort of arbitrary group of voters sequestered somewhere giving insta-impressions of how well they like what each candidate is saying, all plotted out in moving line graphs with pluses and minuses and color-coding…it’s an orgy of useless data analysis, and it’s exactly the kind of thing I like watching. (No, I do not have any of the iPhone apps to monitor the national polls. Because I have a job and someone would notice. But don’t think I haven’t thought about it.)

Anyway! Watching on CNN, everyone’s got their little pie-chart plus/minus thingjobs, all clear and ready to start giving points once the VP candidates open their mouths. Except then…Palin walked out on stage, and two of the analysts gave her a +1. The woman walked without falling down, and she got a positive response. I knew expectations for her were low, but DANG!

So I’m sitting there, stunned into silence (a rarity, I promise you), and then Palin actually did manage to open her mouth. And she said, to Senator Joseph Biden, “Hi, nice to meet you, can I call you Joe?” This bothered me for some reason, but it wasn’t until I was walking back from lunch today that it sunk in.

Sarah Palin had never met Joe Biden before. Sarah Palin had never, ever met Joe Biden.

Fun facts about Joe Biden, in case you weren’t aware: he’s the senior US Senator from Delaware. He’s been doing it for a while. Over 30 years, in fact. Since 1972! And she hadn’t met him until the 33 days before the election.

People can and sometimes do complain about Barak Obama and his supposed “lack of experience.” But that “lack” translates into teaching constitutional law for over a decade, followed by seven years as a state senator and leading into his term now as a US Senator. And I feel pretty certain that, before this election, everyone else involved on both sides had met the entirety of the US Senate.

Then in twinkles Sarah “Pew! Pew! Pew! [adorable]” Palin, whose political experience thus far breaks down as:

– Wasilla (pop. <10,000) city council, 4 years
– Wasilla mayor, 6 years
– Alaska (pop. <700,000) governor, 1.5 years

This is supposed to qualify her to meet with world leaders, represent the United States abroad, and lead the nation should the President be unable to perform his duties. Wasilla is classified as a “small town”, and the entire state of Alaska has fewer people than Ft. Worth, Texas.

And she’d never met one of the most senior senators in the US Senate until last night. But hey! She can walk across a stage! Success.

Coquette: “Sarah Palin, Sarah Palin, Sarah Palin”

3 10 2008

I discovered something this morning, to the great pleasure of the ladies in the gym locker room with me, I’m sure: I cannot stop talking about Sarah Palin.  Perhaps I should have realized it sooner; after all, when my boyfriend comes home, he usually asks, “what did that woman do or say today?”  And then I tell him, usually while flailing around the kitchen.

I think the reason I can’t manage to steer away from her is because she, like Julia Allison to some, never stops doing horrible things.  Every time I think, “Oh, I know the worst thing about Sarah Palin,” a new day dawns and lo, there is another story that makes me want to cry and rend my clothing.  And since I am a crazy person who reads too many blogs, and/or since you are not that person, I’ve undertaken the harrowing task of coming up with a top ten list.  A greatest hits album, if you will, of jaw-dropping facts.  And I say “jaw-dropping” because when I mentioned some of these in the gym locker room, the ladies stared at me like I was making them up.  Like they wanted desperately for me to say, “Oh, I’m just kidding, she’s a cupcake.”

She’s not a cupcake.  And she’s not a pitbull (lipsticked or otherwise).  She is, like we all are, the sum of our actions toward others.  Here are some of hers:

10. She used unofficial webmail accounts to conduct state business, thus avoiding having to disclose the contents of the messages and not adhering to that pesky, “all communications by public officials are public record,” thing.

9. When asked what newspapers and/or magazines she read regularly before she got scooped up by McCain to win the crucial bear vote, she was unable to name any specific sources, instead just citing, “most of them“.

8. She has asked for more federal dollars (aka earmarks — those things she and McCain claim to be against) than any other state per capita, including the ridiculous Bridge to Nowhere.

7. Palin doesn’t know of any other Supreme Court decision besides Roe v. Wade. (Or, to be fair, any other decision she “disagrees with”.) You’d think she would at least be able to disagree with Dred Scott v. Sanford without setting the world on fire.  But nope, silence.

6. When she was mayor of Wasilla, she built a $15 million dollar sports complex. But first, she failed to actually buy said land…so she built it anyway. And then tried to claim eminent domain and sued the actual landowner. And lost the lawsuit, costing the city $1.7 million dollars. For land that, had she actually purchased it in the first place, would have only cost $125,000. And this woman could be a 72-year-old heartbeat away from the Presidency.

5. Once she was elected mayor, she had a little chitchat with her local library for a refresher on how she could go about banning books. What particular books did she want to ban? Oh that’s right, she didn’t have a list. She just wanted to see if she could do it.

4. In defiance of the United States Supreme Court, Palin thinks that creationism should be taught in schools. The only condition under which I could be okay with this is if it’s followed by a mandatory semester of Pastafarianism.

3. Palin tried to use her influence as governor to get the Public Safety Commissioner to fire her ex-brother-in-law from his job as a state trooper. And when that didn’t work, she fired the Public Safety Commissioner. And then, once an independent investigation of said firing was formed, she demanded another investigation be formed, mostly to keep tabs on the, uh, independent investigation already happening. Glorious.

2. She thinks that being able to see Russia from an island in Alaska is an actual, legitimate type of foreign policy experience. Which is especially weird, considering she’s never even been to that island. My favorite part is how she tries to defend “I can see Russia from my house” via half-sentences and gibberish.

1. In Palin’s version of the world, if you’re a victim of rape or incest and you are impregnated by the assault…too bad, you’re having the baby. She claims she’d even stick to this if it were her own daughter. That actually makes it worse, somehow, that she’d be willing to force her kid through that.

If you didn’t feel like reading the list, if you’ve just scrolled through because you’re bored, or if nothing else has transformed Sarah Palin in your eyes from a tiny goddess into a terrifyingly unqualified, poor choice for the office of Vice President, then allow me to present:

The Fact About Sarah Palin That Makes Me Think She Is Actually A Bad Human Being

*. Residents of Wasilla, while Palin was mayor, were billed for their own sexual assault kits. That means if you were raped and you went to the hospital to have a kit done (to 1. provide some forensic evidence of the rape and 2. get medical treatment), you and/or your insurance company would be getting a bill. Because nothing says, “you were asking for it,” like behaving as if the sexual assault kit is a medical procedure you just happened to ask for. Like it’s an eye exam or something, instead of a criminal act.  Palin cannot really speak to this one way or the other, because if she approved it, she’s a monster, and if she didn’t approve it, then she’s a buffoon who didn’t know what her own state’s police department was doing.  That is some fine executive experience there, either way.

Coquette: “I Am A Ballerina Sometimes”

3 09 2008

So I needed some dance tights. And then there was a sale at And…well…

(No comments on how I need to windex my mirror. It ALWAYS looks like that, no matter how much I clean it. It vexes me.) So since it was uh, non-ideal, I tried using my other mirror:


I am throwing so much ‘tude, it’s unstoppable:

I tried covering the flash with my finger, because I couldn’t figure out how to turn it off. Instead…GLOWING. FINGER. OF. DOOM.

It will destroy you.

Then I figured it was time to take some slutty MySpace profile photos of myself, but I looked so angry!

And then I messed something up and accidentally caught my “whoops, nerdo idiot self” face on camera:

And THEN, Teddy (A KAT I OWNZ) tried to climb up my skirt and chew on the ties of it. While it was on me. And I ended up with this, the greatest photo I or anyone else have ever taken:



Coquette: “Good for you!”

19 07 2008

I am sad to report that working for Big Moves is not my full-time job.  No, instead I work in an office, where I do a variety of office-type things, like doing boring tasks, fending off telemarketers, sitting in meetings…basically it’s a daily struggle not to answer my phone, “Dunder Mifflin, this is Pam.”

So!  I was sitting in one of my meetings the other day, making small talk with one of our newer employees before the official start, and she mentioned that I looked kind of exhausted.  Not like, sick-exhausted, just really tired and worn out.  I completely agreed with her, by the way.  “Oh man, no kidding!  Rehearsals have started up for my dance troupe, and they’re totally kicking my butt.”  I mean, even when exhausted and half-asleep at work, I’m still completely ready to talk about Big Moves at any time.  (Side note: I may have accidentally invited my boss to our next show, Hot Buffet, during our bi-weekly meeting.  Maybe.  I should probably warn her about the nudity, yeah?)

Anyway, back to the new hire.  Up until this point, my interractions with her had been polite, professional, enjoyable overall.  But then, OH but then:
“Oh, you dance?”
“Well, uh, yeah.  It’s an all-size dance troupe, we do all different styles of dance, we’re really pretty good.”
“Oh, well yeah, no, I mean, of course, that sounds like fun…And I imagine that there’s a lot of good exercise…Right, right, I mean, good for you!

I didn’t even know what to do or say to that.  It just washed right over me, this nervous, upper-middle-class lady-chatter that managed to throw out insults without even forming a complete sentence.  And then our meeting started and I tried to burninate her with my eyes.  Good for me?  Good for me? What does that even mean?!  Yes, good for me for joining a talented group of women, good for me for being my own personal rock star; but I didn’t join Big Moves as a weight loss system, just like I don’t read Dickens to learn the finer points of punctuation and grammar.  If one follows the other, fine, but I’m just here to shake my booty.

I’ve since shared this story with a few people, one of whom told me about how when she lost ten pounds last month, someone complimented her for being so skinny.  Her response was, “um, I have diabetes.”  His answer: “Well, keep it up!”

So it’s not just me then!  …That doesn’t make me feel any better.