One dress at a time


Hundreds of can-can dancers used to kick up their heels in Wonderland during our weeklong Western Days celebrations, but they have gone the way of the do-do bird. Deciding to bring can-can back, one dress at a time, I recently wore my saloon-girl outfit to our local street dance.


The response I got was phenomenal, from dancers who wished they had worn their outfits, to locals who thanked me for bringing smiles to their faces because they have happy memories of can-can dancing.

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My persona, my self-confidence and my waistline have evolved. I used to feel I was the same as everyone else, but girlfriend, let me tell you, its really clear to me I am a bit unique. Finally, I like me, and sometimes, I also laugh at myself. I crack myself up!


My wardrobe is sprouting and now includes several wigs, updated fashion and bedazzled bling.Outfittly-speaking, I dont mean to blind anyone by my brilliance, so please turn away if you cant stand the intensity of my colour choices.


I have learned that life is boring if I am boring, and it is up to us to brighten things up a little. If you want excitement and joy, dont just sit there. If you think Mister Right is just going to fall out of the sky and land on the hood of your car, girlfriend, you've got another think coming.Sometimes, you have to dress up blingtastically and skip outside in your stilettos and see whats shaking.


As an up-and-coming fashionista, I want to confess that I have secretly been viewing Kim Kardashian shoes online.When it comes to heels, altitude really is everything these days.Being a tad vertically-challenged, the thought of sky-high heels seems exciting in concept. In reality, they give me vertigo.Not even leopard-print, encrusted sling-backs can stop my fear of falling.


Speaking of dancing in the dark, I once visited Dad, who was managing a motel in the not-so-nice part of the city.I'm out boogieing with my brother when some hunky redneck farm-boy starts flirting with me.He asks for my number.I had no idea what the phone number was, (this was BF; Before Facebook) so I told him to contact me at the motel. He, like others before him who swore they would call but didnt, followed suit.Years later, I learned several hookers frequented the motel, so thats probably why he didnt pick up the phone.?


Of course, there are times when it doesn't matter how much you plan, stuff happens. Thinking I was a smarty-pants, and just to get it over with, I decided to host four home parties in one night, promoting pantyhose, polyester sportswear, jewellery and Tupperware.?There was a whole lot of lid-burping and pantyhose-stretching going on.?I had personally prepared a few veggie and fruit trays and throngs of potential customers were getting their game on.I sharpened my pencils, ready to collect cashola. I had dollar signs in my eyes. Suddenly, the power went off.


My home was in total darkness for five minutes, just enough time to scare away any potential customers. Cost of snacks, $50. Cost of shampooing carpets due to dropped drinks, food and candle wax (always a mood-maker!) caused by guests doing a mass exodus in the dark, $100. Cost of watching reactions as I tell the home party promoters that I sold nothing, priceless.


These days, in my mind at least, I am a style maven. Im discovering my inner, youthful, cutie-pie side of life and live each day as if I were being filmed.Someday, the world will get to watch the movie of my life.Because I think better with lipstick on and have never met a crazy wig I didnt like, this will be a glittery film for sure.


Even today, while out walking, the wind pulled the silk flower out of my hair and it landed in front of a tourist family from Germany.Everyone started to laugh and ran to catch my flower.Those are the moments I live for.


Laughter truly is the universal language, along with music, love and a few good purses.

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