Down the winding stairs I make my way underground to London’s smallest & coolest Cabaret bar, The Cellar Door in London. Once a notorious toilet Frequented by the likes of Oscar Wilde.  It’s now home to a clientele that includes Fallen Angels, Cabaret Kids, Burlesque Bombshells, Drag DJ’s, West End Girls, East End Boys and Cool Couples.  Tonight underneath the streets of London I’m a Femme Fatale of the night using my allure to lead the audience astray and I’m accompanied by my comrade and cabaret companion Mr Pete Saunders on the piano.  The Cellar Door has an intimate charm which suits me fine as I pride myself on having intimate relations with each and every one of my audience members.

Tonight my dressing room is the toilet, yep I live a life of sex, drugs and rock n roll!  The toilets at Cellar Door are chic and are much nicer than many of the dressing rooms I’ve been in.  Unpacking and trying not to spread glitter everywhere I reach out to put my corset on when I stop dead in my tracks with a sinking feeling in my stomach as I realise that I’ve forgotten to pack my tights.  This might not sound like a major crisis to you dear reader but it’s 9.20pm in The West End and all the shops are shut and the lighting at Cellar Door not matter how atmospheric is not going to disguise my pasty legs!

I look down at what I’ve got on and for a brief second it crosses my mind that I may have to wear my jeans!  Don’t be shocked that I wear jeans, of course I spend my everyday life wearing nothing more than crystal studded corsets and crystal encrusted thongs as I pick up my veg  in Tesco’s but there are some occasions when I like to blend in with mere mortals and today was one of those days., typical.

In a blind panic I run out of Cellar Door and across to Tesco’s where I burst in, in full showgirl make up and tear around the store looking for tights, no luck, I run across to a shop that sells “I Love London” T-shirts, no luck, I then run (I must add her that I’m wearing 5 inch heels) over Pineapple Dance Studio (hoping for a glimpse of Louis Spence) no luck, Next stop Leicester square where finally and thank god I find a newsagent that sells tights and seeing my desperation I’m sure the shopkeeper puts up the price as he charges me £10 for a pair of black tights???? I’m about to tell him where to “put” the tights when I have to remind myself that I am in no position to barter.  My show is about to begin in 10 mins so tights in hand I run, yes I run back to Cellar Door leaving a trail of Glitter in my wake.  I don’t think I’ve run this much since we were forced to do a fun run in Year 9 at school and even then I bunked off with my friends to go and smoke….

So with my feet burning from running I arrive at Cellar Door and after a purely medicinal drop of gin to numb the burning sensation in my feet I get this show on the road.  Tonight the audience are full of wit and verve and quite a lot of alcohol, the cocktails here are too good not to try and I’ve tried a few (just research you understand)   and as Pete starts to play I feel the familiar sensation of adrenalin, excitement and fear kick in, for a second I wonder if my drink has been spiked , (I should be so lucky! ) Then I grab the microphone and I know it’s all going to be grand.

Come back soon for more glitz, glamour and gossip on the true life of a showgirl and show off! Until next time my darlings!! Xxx Ivy xxX.

Ps. For those of you who haven’t ever been to The Cellar Door, shame on you!! I will be there on the 1st and 2nd  April, which is your perfect opportunity to check it out!

www.ivypaige.co.uk

www.cellardoor.biz

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In the dressing room gossip is passed around as quickly as the wine that’s being drunk. Rumours of promoters that don’t pay on time, the critique of someone’s act and the fascination with others success and failure is passed from one performer to another.

Sat on the sumptuous red beds in the dimly lit dressing room of Café de Paris, I’m sharing a “bed” with Burlesque Circus Starlet, Roxy Velvet as I primp and preen myself for tonight’s show the premiere night of “La Reve.” And tonight I am the compare and hostess with the mostess (to coin a phrase.) In the dressing room burlesque darling Vicky Butterfly carefully adorns herself with a costume that would give Puff Daddy a run of his money as the king of bling. Truly sumptuous and all hand made her costume is a work of art.  She’s a showgirl that literally sparkles , even in the dimly lit dressing rooms of Café de Paris. Blond bombshell Burlesque star and pianist (yes that’s right Pianist) Chrys Columbine sits to my left as she cinches her tiny waist into a corset.  Beautiful and unexpected her Naked Nocturne act is burlesque at its best.

Café de Paris is one of my favourite venues, sexy, opulent (a great sound system you wouldn’t believe how rare this is) and it’s steeped in history, Marlene Dietrich performed there as did Noel Coward and of course little old me . However, the lighting in the dressing room was clearly not designed for showgirls putting on their makeup or perhaps the truth is we look better in the dark and with this much make up you know we are older than we look.  Roxy and I hole up in the toilets to apply our make up and I make her critique my make up in the hope that I won’t go out onstage and look like a drag queen. Not that this bothers me, it’s wanted I wanted to be when I grew up, Mother would be so proud.

So, Lipstick on, Corset laced, false eyelashes that are refusing to stick, and enough perfume to fumigate the audience, (The front row could pass out if I get to close) Pianist Pete Saunders also/dear friend and whiskey companion (he used to play in Dexy’s Midnight Runners don’t you know) asks me what songs I’m going to sing tonight? Hmmmm not sure, let me see what the audience are like, wouldn’t want to look like I know what I’m doing now would I?

Adrenalin starts in kick in, I can hear the audience outside. Pete is starting to play the piano and I’ve just been told to get ready to go on. I climb three flights of stairs in a corset and heels only to be told we’ve gone the wrong way. I need a wee and a gin but there’s no time and they do say you perform better under pressure although I’m not sure if trying not to let out a bit of wee constitutes performing under pressure. (on the other hand there should always be time for gin which is just as well as I keep a mini bottle/bar in my hair depending on the style I’m wearing)

So what happened next? Did I ever get to wee?  How much gin did I drink? And why does my cat like to sit in boxes and stare into space??

For regular updates of my jaunts and jolly exploits and gin drinking come back and see me sometime. I’d like to say thanks for having me but some of you haven’t been that lucky! (although to be fair my standards aren’t that high so you must be really bad) I promise glitz, glamour and gossip on the true life of a showgirl and show off!

Until next time my darlings!! Xxx Ivy xxX

Ps check out La Reve it’s on every friday at Cafe de Paris

I am off to the Circus today!   Hope there aren’t any clowns!  I’ve written a song for the show so I’m looking forward to seeing how they use it! I might even run away with the Circus!

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I hope you’ve all had a sparkling Christmas and Santa bought you everything that you wished for! I wish you all a very Happy New Year and look forward to seeing you at my new show “Ivy Paige’s Fabulous!” this year. Love to you all, Ivy xx

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