International Women’s Day: the international woman who inspires me

We’re at Euston train station, London. Your pain is so severe we’ve requested assistance to transport us through the bustle. They take one look at you – young, gorgeous – and claim there is no transport available. It will be a struggle for me to carry all our luggage, but we’ll manage because we have no choice. You pull a folding walking stick from your handbag.

Shamefaced, they decide assistance is available after all.

My best friend suffers from Ehlers-Danlos syndrome. Here she is:

lilac.jpg

We first met at a burlesque class in Liverpool. I’ve never been much of a girl’s girl, so this incredibly hot human not only acknowledging me, but actively pursuing conversation, immediately had my back up. Why was she interested in me? On noting her accent I declared my weakness for Aussie blokes, before lamenting the standard of the 100% of Aussie blokes I had dated (3 – all c*nts, and not in the banterous Aussie sense).

We became friends.

Like me, you’ve probably never heard of EDS. Here’s what the NHS have to say about it:

‘Ehlers–Danlos syndromes (EDS) are a group of genetic connective tissue disorders… For some, the condition is relatively mild, while for others their symptoms can be disabling. Some of the rare severe types can be life-threatening.’

Symptoms manifest themselves in chronic pain, dislocations, digestive problems and many, many other issues.

From my view, it means she breaks like a China doll. This is her again, performing this time:

doll3.jpg

EDS isn’t particular about when it strikes. A rib can dislocate in a steel-boned corset, or simply during sleep (pssst – she snores really loudly. I was delighted to have finally discovered her flaw).

corset

As an EDS suffer, there are days on end when interaction with the outside world is reduced to Facebook – if you’re lucky enough to have working fingers – or the seagulls who perch at your window. That henna business you wanted to launch and the costumes you planned to sew? Yeah, not gonna happen today.

zebra2
When doctors hear hooves they think horses, but the rarity of EDS means it’s often misdiagnosed as more obvious conditions – hence EDS sufferers likening themselves to zebras. Image by ChrisMPhotos81.

It’s painful hearing someone you love refer to themselves as a cripple. When pain has driven them to the depths of despair, the words to make it better don’t exist.

This person is, in effect, grieving for the loss of their mobility; this fiercely independent soul, who sometimes can’t even brush her own hair. She recently chopped off that lovely hair.

Feelings about the wheelchair range from embarrassment to relief at simply being able to experience fresh air. I try to make her laugh by singing Weird Al and Limp Bizcit songs as we whizz along.

tenor.gif

My fruity sis: you are so much more than your disability. You are the only person who will watch back-to-back documentaries about serial killers with me, and be enthused about Chilling Photos of Murder Victims Taken by Their Killers. You are humble, loyal and loving. You are someone who will stop the car on a trip back to Oz just to photograph some Big Things for me.

23758116_10155919870299111_2073796587_n
The Big Marlin made my day

It’s hard watching you suffer with your family on the other side of the planet. I hope you know how many people love you on this (admittedly crappier – no Big Things, or Kylie, or blokes with Aussie accents) side just as much.

You may be ashamed of your walking stick, but you are every bit as strong and beautiful as you were without it.

pic2.jpg

Little Peaches is a comedy burlesque performer and co-producer of The Secret Circus. Keep up to date with upcoming performances via Facebook and Twitter

 

Advertisements

I finally did it: my first burlesque solo!

Phew! What a manic ten days. A trip to France, Switzerland and Italy, two performances in Liverpool, before rushing off to Cardiff to watch Meilyr Jones perform (again).

Now that I’ve had time to reflect, I want to tell you about Lemon Tart‘s first EVER solo burlesque performance, which took place at the Jazzesque Showcase in the Buyers Club, Liverpool.

jazzesqueposter.jpg

Being a writer by trade, I’m big on burlesque which demonstrates strong storytelling. For me, an act needs specific plot points which extend beyond ‘remove gloves/dress/bra’. No matter how visually pleasing the performer, I will inevitably get bored without a quirky story and a few laughs.

I started toying with the idea for my act back in August. A lifelong fan of fairies, I’d lusted over an extremely pricey pair of fairy wings at Green Man festival and after a few too many shots I finally caved. It was the perfect excuse!

I sat in my tent mulling it over with my friend Jonny, who suggested the song ‘It’s Oh So Quiet’ by Björk  – GENIUS. An idea was born. Wouldn’t it be great if the tooth fairy fell in love?

I hadn’t shown my act to a soul before the big night, which I predicted would be a grave mistake. Although I’m reasonably confident in my acting skills and comedic ideas, the thought of showing anyone whilst not onstage made my blood run cold.  My fruity sister Little Peaches got a sneak peek that very morning, but as predicted, I fell to pieces.

There was just one thing for it – I would hope for the best.

backstage.jpg
Mandatory backstage selfie

Being first and foremost a comedy writer, humour was a must.

On the big night my pal Mike stepped in (i.e. was bullied into) the role of a bloke suffering from toothache. He did a fantastic job of setting the scene by wandering onstage gesturing at his toothache, before knocking himself out cold with paracetamol and wine.

mikelowri.jpg
Image by AB Photography

To make the tooth fairy suited to an adult audience, I wandered onstage drunk (partly acting, partly thanks to three glasses of wine for courage), clutching a bottle of 22% alc. Listerine.

Other props included a giant sparkly tooth brush I used as a magic wand, and chocolate coins to chuck into the audience.

During the act I became flustered and forgot SO MANY THINGS.  My timing went to hell, and I was so eager to do my big reveal – teeth falling out of my bra – that I whipped it off far too early – WHY ARE YOU TAKING YOUR BRA OFF PUT IT BACK ON RIGHT NOW!!?!!

Yep, things went wrong. But you know what? I bloody did it.

I got on that stage and I carried on until the end. My bra didn’t get caught in my hair, I didn’t slip on my skirt. The audience pissed themselves when I used a white g-string to floss my teeth (and other regions). I came alive on that stage.

toothbrush.jpg
Image by AB Photography

Afterwards, I was still shaking as strangers congratulated me. One person said she really appreciated the small touches – glitter “fairy dust” falling out of my opera gloves – which meant a lot.

It was only later that I realised I FORGOT MY BLOODY FAIRY WINGS. Raging!

There are plenty of things I can improve for next time, but I’m proud that as someone with such low confidence I actually did it. It felt great standing up there practically in the nuddy, proving that women of all shapes and sizes can be creative, witty and beautiful.

Love and Lemons,

Lowri XOXO

smiles2
Image by AB Photography