Characters Who Insprie: From Baby to Burlesque

How One Performer Manages Motherhood & Strip-Tease

 BY: Ashley Gallagher

Published 31 December 2013

As I walked into the house, I was welcomed by four Burlesque performers designing shot glasses for their VIPs who would be attending their upcoming show. The women sat around a card table and the lead was a smiling red-head who calls herself Lady Borgia.

She offered me an exercise ball, a glass of boxed wine and invited me to sit while they finished decorating and brainstormed for their show. Her home is a small apartment, decorated with pin-up models on signs, a recycled Pampers box holding shot glasses waiting to be decorated and a mannequin in the corner near her sewing table. It was draped by a sequined green dress in progress and blocked off by a baby gate.

Her home was split almost in half: toys and burlesque, her passions, her creations.

Borgia's son was asleep in the other room while the other girls were giddy with ideas, demonstrating dance steps, debating colors and what they would use for "pasties," a small prop they would decorate the nipples on their breasts with. They laughed and joked and talked about their introduction to Burlesque. Borgia smiled slyly when I asked her about her first show. She was bartender, she said. She took interest in a group called Hell On Heels, and frankly, she joked, "Every girl dreams of being a stripper at some point."

But Burlesque isn't just stripping, even though it plays an important role in the show. Rather it encompasses artistic planning, very often, retro music choices dating back to the 1950s and women more interested in the design of their shoes and how they'll dance rather than when their clothes come off. They make their costumes, shop at Party City and make plans to rehearse for a big show, which isn't just a weekend gig or a nightly job.

Borgia's story, however, starts in 2005.

LADY BORGIA’S BEGINNINGS

After watching Hell On Heels at the bar she worked, the girls were eager to meet her, talk with her, show off and as Borgia puts it, she “pretty much got molested by one of them” from behind the bar. They invited her to a troupe a meeting, to hang out and learn more about what they do. Her first meeting, much like mine, included boxed wine and sparkles everywhere in a studio apartment of one the performers.

The meeting eventually lead to Borgia’s first performance.

Initially the show was planned in a casino on the Barona Speedway in California, but as it turned out, the stage was far from the glitz of a casino stage. Instead, the stage was a flatbed truck with slatted wood pieces. Being in heels that night, the girls realized it just wouldn’t work, and Borgia says, “my debut performance was in the dirt on the side of the racetrack.” She laughs remembering the sunset show.  

Nearly four years later, Lady Borgia felt her time with Hell on Heels was complete and she went on to perform solo, dancing and developing her own Burlesque style. She would eventually form the Keyhole Cabaret - which in 3 years has grown to be one of the most well known troupes in San Diego.

Borgia says she is proud of the girls who have come through her troupe and encourages their creativity. She wants them to reach for new experiences. She “sets the bar high” working and educating the women who join Keyhole Cabaret  and as a result has “had a lot of the performers that are now out there, producing their own shows, getting their own solo gigs.”

The process to produce a show takes great dedication and patience. While managing to work with 4 or 5 dancing girls at a time, Lady Borgia also sews her own stage outfits, prepares a number for the show and gets flyers out the public. She says the defining element of a burlesque is the “strip teasing.”

“Burlesque is still fantastic costumes, it’s still fantastic performance dance, but to me if you don’t take anything off you’re not doing burlesque.” For Borgia, the show is about women who are empowered, and being able to confidently show off without feeling like they’re “selling their body.” There’s a feminist quality to Burlesque, Borgia says, “there is absolutely nothing wrong with the naked female figure and form. You’re going to evoke emotion.” But she also realizes, some women who get up there “just want to be a stripper.”

Lady Borgia’s performances are often entwined with a comedic presentation and characters, but she maintains an elegant and sexy allure which keeps her audience attentive to her every move on stage.

Burlesque gives Borgia a place to feel like a princess. She tells me, “I don’t mean a princess as in tiara and pretty proper thing of tea princess, I get to be a friggin' princess on stage, I own that stage  it’s mine.”

BRINGING IN THE BABY

But just one year ago, the balance and process of putting on a show changed and the love of Lady Borgia’s life, Reilly Thomas was born. Red-headed, curious and happy, Borgia’s son greets her friends with enormous grin and Borgia switches gears from Burlesque producer to being a mom, trying to keep her son fed and occupied while she multi-tasks.

“I wasn’t going to stop performing,” Borgia says, “but prioritizing was kind of hard for me. Trying to figure out which direction do I run first, it’s my challenge.” From being forgetful, to answering phone calls to managing a theatre performance and being an “eclectic artist,” she admits it can be difficult to know how to divide time between Reilly and sewing rhinestones on a dress.  

“I have definitely had many moments of giving up, how in the world can I do this? I’m a single mom and sometimes you just realize, just feel like I’m way too tired after he goes to bed to pick up that needle.”

But Borgia says, it’s important to keep both passions as a primary part of her life. It became evident while she attended the Burlesque Hall of Fame’s performance competition just a few months ago in Las Vegas. Lady Borgia says the song number she submitted to get into the contest, Song for a Winter’s Night by Sarah McLachlan, was a song she choreographed not long after her son was born.  

“I created a number that, for me, was really passionate as far as feeling the completeness of my womanhood, becoming a mother and getting back up on that stage, owning my body with all the new changes, it was a very ethereal,” Borgia smiles sheepishly - the fierce determination in her face softens. Her son now inspires her performances.

Lady Borgia is balancing her son into the Burlesque part of her life and it’s reflected everywhere in her home, “the entire bottom 3 feet of my house no longer belongs to me.” Her eyes light up and she laughs pointing out the toy box next to the fireplace and the toys cluttering a mannequin head covered with flowers on the mantle. The bottom part of her book shelf is all baby books while hers sit above. She explains her working area, closed off by the baby gate, she says, “mommy gets caged into her sewing area and my son gets free reign of the rest of the house.”

She loves having Reilly exposed to her artistic life,  she says she doesn’t see the need to “protect” him from the world of Burlesque, “He’s going to grow up surrounded by gorgeous women wearing fishnet stockings and sparkly heels!” In fact, she regularly catches him teething on her sparkly heels and he loves rummaging through her closet and trying to pull down feathers and dresses. Her world is his.

PUTTING ON THE SHOW

As the show gets closer, Lady Borgia ended up in a car accident while heading the fabric store. Realizing it would limit her performance, she opted not to dance in Keyhole Cabaret’s show. She admits it was a “very hard decision,” because she knows her fans expect her to perform, but with bruises and back-aches, she says, “the show can go on without me being in the spotlight.” The women of Keyhole Cabaret worked out a plan to fill Borgia’s performance spot and gave Lady Borgia the ability to step back and really produce the show, get feedback from their fans and evaluate their performances. The women of Keyhole Cabaret revere her. They take her advice seriously and give her support to put on a great show.

For Borgia, it’s a community, a family, even.

When the big night arrives, everyone rushes to the venue in costume to help set up tables, candle holders, truffles and decorations. The dressing room sits behind the bar in an overhead outdoor storage area. Brightly colored feathers, red lipstick and roses are spread out while the Burlesque performers prepare their numbers. Borgia gives them last minutes notes, lets them know when they’re going on and creates the seating chart for VIP guests. She prepares to introduce the show and slips on an elegant blue gown, complete with blue stones around her neck and a smile hiding the complications of her car accident.

She left Reilly at home, in the hands of a babysitter and with two other Burlesque children who know their mothers won’t return until well after midnight.

The show is a success, the crowds whistle and cheer the women on as they strip from their costumes, to their lingerie and eventually...their pasties and g-strings. Lady Borgia is proud of their performances and relieved when the night is over, ready for bed and ready to see her boy.  

Eventually, Borgia says she hopes to open her own Burlesque and cabaret club, have a green room for children whose mothers are performing and even travel overseas. But for now, with her son in tow, Lady Borgia will keep bringing strip tease to San Diego, sequence in place and rhinestones shining from her eyes.

Reunited: #OnTheRoad

On the road, once again*, a week from Colorado to New York, actually the Jersey shore. It was a pause in an exploding journey - and at every turn, I was able to take in every sunset. Heading for the East coast, there were moments it felt like the wrong direction. For so many cross country ventures, it is the West coast which has been my final destination, and it will be again. But for now, working in the big apple, and finding a firm place to sleep a commute away on the Atlantic is where I needed to be. Passion is a funny thing, it splits the parts of you to make you whole.

With few cities between Colorado and Kansas City, the ride is nothing more than stripped land with road to spare and patrol cops with nothing better to do. Nevertheless, I was on cruise control and destined for my first stop to spend an evening with a soul-sister and catch up over glasses of wine. And it would be a divine evening with blessed conversation. But until I got there, I had to avoid a nod off on the boring highway of nothingness. A little music, talk radio and finally, I cracked the window open for nothing but the sound and feel of fresh open air. It gave me room, time for intimate contemplation.

And as the sky's light dipped, the clouds and the illuminating color shown through the cracks in the sky. The nothingness of the Kansas road took on a new form. It would be the first of several such moments on my drive east.

It felt like a dream to drive after many months without 'Ol Baby Blue.' Having taken me from coast to coast many times, with room to spare in the back, I had missed the solitary moments she provided.

From Kansas City to Birmingham; I dipped south through Kentucky, and by the time the early winter nightfall came, I passed through the smokey Mountains of Tennessee. The smell in the air was a fresh scent of nature, and it was the home stretch. I would pick up my things, visit a dear friend, and as quickly as I arrived, would leave to finish the last leg of it all. Skid into Jersey, an apartment waiting and then off to work - I was moving fast, faster than I felt I had on road trips before. I had a destination and crisis I was solving and flying by the seat of my Jeep.

Feeling resilient, determined; I worked out a plan, one I know will change as I go, but it was inspiring. I was filled with ideas and silence. No social stigmas to entertain, not one update required, just the road and my head and my prayers, slipping from one state to the next in an effort to accomplish another great challenge of this epic story I live. I was grateful for each mile forward.

While I visited with a few dear souls along the way, there was plenty of time in between to step back, observe the world around me, appreciate the truck drivers I waved to when filling up for gas, taking time to pull off the road to admire the sun and the stars. 

The process of the road trip, even at the speed I felt I was flying seemed more important than it had before. Perhaps because I was breaking into something which would push me forward, perhaps because I felt confident to take on the challenges ahead, perhaps because I knew I was right where I needed to be for the moment or perhaps because my own traveling song was the one I was orchestrating. But no matter the reasons; the process existed and I was enjoying it's company, for once.
*trip: dec 2 - dec 6

Reverbarating Silence

I woke up to silence. A million thoughts racing through my head, but still the environment around me...silent. My body was calm. I didn't feel obligated to move quickly. The change was welcoming. Deserts aren't always geographical locations. Sometimes, deserts are a mental and professional dryness that seem to blow sand in your eyes the faster you move.

So as I lifted myself up, I took in the wave of quiet around me, embraced the cool floor beneath my feet and took a deep breath. A steaming shower would open my pores and wake me up. I fumbled to the bathroom and turned the knobs - really only the hot water. It was that kind of morning.

For a moment, I felt like a real person rather than a crazed scientist experimenting with my present state of navigating. Decisiveness was calling me to think clearly and the silence - was giving me a place to contemplate methodically. A necessary awakening.

Far from the stress of the city, among the fall leaves, in a cottage-house, there was a sense of completeness I would not have traded for convenience of the city subway. The city's charm had worn off and I needed a moment, a place to think. I was gifted with the small commodity on that morning. With no place to go, no straining obligation, I could meditate, focus and figure out the next step if there was one to be had.

As I stood soaking in the steam, a prayer of gratefulness slipped from my lips. I drank in some of the hot water, and swallowed. Process is a wretched thing but oh so necessary in the accomplishment or even the failure of anything.

November was just around the corner and winter was coming. As I reflected where I had been and where I was going and where I wanted to be, I was able to create options, even if they meant the one I wanted least. It was this acceptance which brought about rewarding opportunity, another risk, and another chance to make it alright.

But I wouldn't have known.
I wouldn't have experienced that moment...without the sound of reverberating, bellow echoing...
silence.

Malala - Bravest Girl In the World

The Daily Show

Writing lately seems to come harder than it has in the past. Maybe it's because I feel so uninspired. And last week - the most incredible girl in the world inspired me and now, I just can't seem to put it into words.

You know whom I am speaking of…Malala Yousafzai She came to the US, blowing us all away, only a year after being targeted by the Taliban in Pakistan, nominated for the Nobel Peace Prize (which I believe she should have received). She's recovered, healed and she won't stand down. She keeps speaking out on the importance of education, women and she attributes her own miracle to the heavens above. Malala is truly remarkable. Her young 16-years of life is a testament to the meaning of 'true heroism.'

But I fear many Americans, in particular, are missing her message.

You see, while many praise her efforts, they disregard what she truly represents, what it means to love your enemy as yourself, what it means to believe so strongly in something – that no matter the cost, she’ll keep her head up even when her critics would rather see her dead, what it means to represent her faith and most of all, what it means to be a woman and powerful.

One year ago, she was the target of a terrorist attack. Malala defied them. She survived. She wrote a book. And she would do it again, she says, the Taliban need to be educated too. Despite the moments when she would rather throw a shoe, instead she tells us, "I’ll tell him how important education is, and that I even want education for your children as well. And I would tell him, ‘That’s what I want to tell you, now do what you want."

Her ambition is become the Prime Minister of Pakistan, and the Pakistan People’s Party, the same part that backed Benezir Bhutto, has voiced their support. And I think she’ll do it too.

But while she’s changing hearts and minds, dropping Jon Stewart’s jaw and giving Christiane Amanpour a reason to smile non-stop, I believe there are too many Americans who just missing it.

Malala is faithful to her beliefs, she denounces that extremists are any representation of her faith and she believes women are more powerful than men. Her life is evident of a message Americans brag they live and breathe and believe, but they are yet to practice it.

"Persecution" has become the normal cry here, fear of a belief system, suing for defamation and fussing over which group is the most prejudice, violent or who spews more hatred. Isn’t time we let the 16-year Muslim girl humble us all?

I don't know everything in this world. But this I know, friends, we can no longer spew hatred for our Muslim brothers and sisters. God is proving his purpose and his plan for her life - and one - we all need to emulate. We don't have to agree on theology, that's okay. But if we are to be followers of true freedom and love, then we cannot dismiss the message we claim the Gospels preach. It was truly radical. Friends, are you radical enough?

Are you radical enough to receive those less fortunate than you? Are you radical enough to live with less, believe in more.

I see a woman like Malala take over the world by standing against evil with peace. Just as incredible as she is, her father stands behind her, her cause and what she believes in. He lets her lead the way and gives her the courage she needs to face the days, I guarantee she doubts.

You may hate my words, you may try to tear apart mine with references and scripture. That's unfortunate – because what I'm asking from you is to just stop for a minute, consider this: what message do you really want to live? The one you’re living, criticizing and blaming every faith, race, poor, rich or schmuck with opposing views? Or the one Malala is sharing? – You know, educating others, becoming educated and striving for perfection in peace. It’s worth a shot.  

No, it’s not about being a pacifist; it’s about Malala Yousafzai --a hero. And this week she gave a dumbfounding interviews. She's the definition of humble bravery and she believes educating people will reveal justice, equality and truth. My friends;  Malala is right.

While our government is recovering from a ridiculous shut down and we're debating whether or not the ACA is biblical - let's stop for a minute to consider Malala's life, her story - let's stop extremism by not being extremists, let's change the world.

Teaser: Borgia's Burlesque, Part I

The following clip is a behind the scenes look at a larger profile piece done in San Diego, CA. The full story's publishing is to be announced.* 

In the underground of culture, beyond the societal definition of glamour is a beautiful world of unimaginable artistry. Recently, I had the amazing privilege to go behind the scenes with Burlesque performer, San Diego's Lady Borgia and watch her balance her passion for the stage and her passion for her son. 

I found Lady Borgia one of the most driven performers. She certainly makes a profound impression not just in her sphere of influence but for women who are working-single moms. The other women I met who in San Diego Burlesque circle are also mothers, seamstresses, artists, dancers and models. The glow of the stage is the glow of their life and it's very personal.

So as I am pitching a full profile piece to educate and highlight a little Burlesque, here's a behind the scenes taste from my interview with - the one and only, Lady Borgia.*

*More to come from this story soon, stay tuned with http://ashgallagher.com

Surfers Reaching Out

The story in it's entirety will be published in Surfer's Path come October 2013. The Video-Blog below is a simple introduction to two of the characters in Tel Aviv who are reaching out to their local communities and the Arab neighbors.* 

In Tel Aviv, surfers say, there is "no religion in the water" and firmly believe in promoting a peaceful community. 

Just 8 years ago, Arthur Rashkovan created Surfing 4 Peace as a way to reach surfers in Gaza, Lebanon, and Turkey. This year, the group added Paddle 4 Peace promoting paddle boarding. Paddle 4 Peace will be participating in this year's International Peace Day in France, with the the support in Paris on the Canal Saint Martin. It will be the first 'Paddle 4 Peace' event of it's kind. They are inviting surfers, non-surfers and peace supporters to join their event which will be followed by a presser at the Comptoir General where Surfing 4 Peace will officially announce it's first Mediterranean surf contest to take place in Marseille in 2015.  Tel Aviv's Arthur Rashkovan will be attendance and you can check http://medcup4peace.org for more information.

Maya Dauber is also a strong community leader teaching young people and women of all ages to surf the waves, paddle-board and even skateboard. Her goal is to engage her students not only in sport but a unifying experience. 

*You can see my full report in the October 2013 in Surfer's Path Magazine, UK. Stay tuned with http://ashgallagher.com 

Photo Essay: SlutWalk 2013 - Tel Aviv

The SlutWalk was initiated in April 2011 in Toronto after a police official commented women would be safer against predators if they didn't "dress like sluts." Women took to the streets and the protests grew around the world. Events were held in India, Australia, the US and Israel. Tel Aviv's march was its 2nd and a few hundred women, children and men turned out for the event. While I was able to obtain many great photos, here's just a taste of the characters who joined the event including a woman who also protested in solidarity with the Palestinians this week. 

Book Review: She's The Boss

Dear Tina,

I'm certain in some other life, we met and probably at some over-priced coffee shop in a cave with tattered iKea furniture. But since we're in this life and I've just finished Bossypants from a roof-top in Jerusalem (truth), I wanted to reach out and say, "Thank you. Thank you for making nerdy-white midwest American girls with glasses...cool."

The writing was terribly witty and entertaining, so much so, I often caught myself in a hearty laugh sitting in a crowded bus or at a cafe in the morning when the rest of the room wasn't awake -- staring in my direction with a lop-sided stink eye to let me know morning laughter was not welcome until coffee had been consumed. And I've caught the constructor workers on the roof below catching glimpse and looking at me funny, alone, reading a book. What could EVER be so funny?

Your awkwardness, approach to life and often raw attitude to the daily grind of growing up, working, motherhood and wifery gives hope to the younger not so 'yellow-haired' bee out there.

While there were many great quotes and one liners to add to a FB status, Twitter, or a sticky note on the mirror, one of my favorites and becoming oh so popular was, "Now every girl is expected to have: caucasian blue eyes, full Spanish lips, a classic button nose, hairless Asian skin with a California tan, a Jamaican dance hall ass, long Swedish legs, small Japanese feet, the abs of a lesbian gym owner, the hips of a nine-year old boy, the arms of Michelle Obama and doll tits. The person closes to actually achieving this look is Kim Kardashian, who, as we know, was made by Russian scientists to sabotage our athletes. Everyone else is struggling."

Not my photo, Not for sale
Found on Pinterest, ok?
In place of another photo I don't have

I'm reminded of that time when I was 14 and I was going back to public school after a year of being homeschooled (which is another story for another lifetime) and 3 weeks into the Freshman year, my mother sets up a meeting with the guidance counselor to help select my classes. Why I started the 9th grade nearly a month into the school year, I have never figured out, but nonetheless, the day turned out to be one of the most embarrassing moments (and I say one because for me High School proved to have many, then again, who's HS experience wasn't awkward?). The morning began just two days after my female 'flowering,' you know the part where mothers beam about their daughters becoming women and embarrass us all? The cramps were a crime and my mother was determined to make me prissy and pretty, so ensued the fighting and yelling and pulling on my hair as she fluffed in dreadful curls and a feathered bangs (something left over from the 80s she never got over). I was forced into her straight skirt with pastel flowers on a beige background with a white blouse. And when I say blouse, I mean the puffy sleeves, round-lacy collar and fake pearl buttons that made me look like I was 5 (and being short with a young face, I probably looked 3). To top it off, I wore big round mid-90s glasses and had a mouth full of metal topped with wax which never successfully kept the inside of my lips from being cut open and sore. I was the definition of geekdom and walking into my high school for the first time was the worst it could get especially in between classes when all the blond cheerleading monsters came out to point and laugh (they probably never even looked my way, but when you're 14, the world is out to get you).

Needless to say, my trauma is oh so laughable now, 16 years later as I look out onto the Mount of Olives trying to come up with story angle that will bring in greenbacks from a news network and perhaps a contract to keep doing this journalist thing I've been doing for nearly a decade.

And well, as you put it, (or was that Lorne Michels), "[The Show] goes on because it's 11:30." Great advice for across the board, I say.

Enough!

The point is - your book is 'a solid.' The unsolicited advice and grada-A descriptions of your SNL Days and the start of 30 Rock made it a read for the ages...or at least for all the women out there who know being Beyonce is impossible but feeling like they can, just once, during a photo shoot for a day because it's awesome. It takes a lot of hard work to be a rock-star, contrary to popular belief (and trust me, Nickelback's song is of NO help whatsoever). Frankly, you're a true rock-star in my book, if I had a book, which I don't.

Again, thank you for being just who you are - and recently doing an interview with Inside the Actor's Studio. Ms. Palin should keep a closer eye on you.

I definitely recommend all my ladies out there BUY the book because it's a worthwhile investment - for reading and eventually a great coffee cup coaster.

Perhaps one day, we'll have the opportunity to meet in person, share a cup of over-priced delicious latte in an underground rickety cafe in a strange neighborhood near the subway in New York.

Until then, from a rooftop in Old City, Jerusalem - Cheers.

Yours Truly,