The night takes an interesting turn when I see a man with hot pink fishnet stockings pulled over his head.
He’s in what appears to be a g-string, padded body armour and shin pads. He has matching pink fishnets on his shapely legs. It’s all a bit pervy. I shoot him a wide grin. I like his outfit. Anyone dressing with that level of commitment is OK by me. It’s hard to tell through all the stretchy nylon if he’s smiling back. And I’m wondering: what did he do with the gusset?
At this year’s Pink & Black Jester Ball there’s a definite air of fetish and S&M. There are heaving bosoms in tight-laced corsets aplenty. Everyone is bathed in lurid pink light and Albert Hall has never looked so unseemly. Where do all these fleshy, exotic adults go in Canberra by daylight? I presume they hide their splendid bodies under staid business suits.
I’m in a Sass & Bide corset with pink ribbon covering all the boning, a black ballerina style skirt found in an op shop of many, many layers of tulle, seamed stockings and a Japanese paper mask.
Other women have, in the main, pushed their breasts upwards and outwards for a distinct spilling/wobbling effect when dancing or walking. Showgirl style sequined or feathery headdresses are common.
And masks done with a bit of flair are a touch disturbing on the men. One wears a pink furry headpiece that covers him to the shoulders complete with pig-style ears. The front is cut out and covered in black opaque mesh. He looks like an especially bizarre beekeeper. And he’s creepy the way a clown at nighttime is creepy.
Burlesque dancers are part of the evening’s entertainment. They’re not particularly titillating, they’re much more funny and cutesy. Their movements are so stereotypical, the music all extra-brassy big band. The girls romp, they twirl, they remove their gloves by biting them off finger by finger with a “grr” expression. Clothes go flying but there are smaller, subtler movements: a finger running down a thigh. A glance over the shoulder. Then there are the big movements – the shaking of a pair of tasseled nipples.
The Magnificent Liberte Belle, a petite blonde with a killer body, comes out looking rather like Marlene Dietrich in a form-fitting masculine style suit complete with tails. She portrays a magician and, using special fabric covered hoops, causes lovely and scantily-clad women to appear. Getting towards the climax of the act, so to speak, she does the classic, “my, is it hot in here or is it just me?” move – she fans herself with her hands and her top hat. And suddenly she’s striding down the catwalk shedding clothing left, right and centre until she’s under the lights, her breasts are glittering and her audience is screaming.
I’m mainly here for the fashion parade of five local designers working with a pink and black palette under the broad theme of “love”. Amelia Thompson presents an instantly covetable little black dress with an attached hood lined with birdcage print. One of her models strides down the catwalk in an alarmingly sexy ruff of sorts worn with nothing underneath that barely covers her breasts. It ties up at the neck and a pair of black tassels dance around her bare lower back. Lingerie designer Emma Knieriem’s romantic, ruffled pink top with flowing ribbons and bows looks at once shy and cheeky. And Danielle Killick’s fascinating origami-inspired gear includes adorable $35 headpieces which look like a great alternative to a fascinator or hat for the races.
One of the nice things about this particularly sexually-charged environment is it’s perfectly acceptable to lean up against the catwalk and snog your significant other and/or the masked stranger you met on the night.
In their own exotic (or inebriated) worlds, no one seems to notice or care.