THE KING AND I

 The security line at Dallas-Fort Worth Airport was ridiculously long, and the TSA officials seemed to be ultra-paranoid, checking and re-checking toddler’s bottles, tearing apart well-packed quart baggies, patting down old ladies, and treating everyone in the queue with suspicion. I was sweating bullets for no other reason than because I was already insanely late for my plane to Los Angeles.

 During the weekend belly dance show I’d performed on in Grapevine, Texas, I’d been hanging out my new friend Tamra Henna, a fantastic local belly dancer whom I’d recently dubbed “Tex”. Tex and I had gotten along like gangbusters, so well that she’d offered to drive me to the airport. Over lunch at a taco stand, we discussed everything from vintage Egyptian cinema and our favorite Arabic songs to stage make-up and the craziest, weirdest gigs we’d both been hired for. Since it seemed like I had plenty of time until my flight, and we were both hopelessly addicted to glitter in general and belly dance costumes in particular, we mutually made the executive decision to stop at Little Egypt Imports.

 “You will not believe this place!” Tex promised, as she barreled down the highway,

” You’re totally gonna lose it when you see all the stuff they have!”

She suddenly swerved her car into a driveway and parked in front of a huge building with rusted corrugated metal siding.

“Here we are!” she exclaimed triumphantly, while I wondered what in the hell this giant airplane hangar could possibly have to do with belly dancing.

As we stepped through the door, I realized that the entire place was Little Egypt Imports.  It was as though the entire Valley of the Kings had been teleported into this colossal Quonset hut and then dropped directly onto the Texas heartland. One room was full of gleaming, enormous pieces of heavy, carved wooden furniture decorated with hieroglyphics and cartouches, gaily painted in a rainbow of colors, strewn hand-woven, tasseled brocade pillows. There were seven foot tall statues depicting Isis and Osirus, Horus, Hathor, Queen Hatshepsut and Bast; gold-leaf busts of Nefertiti, blue ceramic scarab and hippotamus paper weights, and an over-sized reproduction of King Tut’s sarcophagus, which, when opened, revealed an interior decorated as sumptuously as it’s outside shell. I was flabbergasted…I never even knew stuff like this existed outside of an actual museum!

Breathless with excitement, I tore over to the rooms that featured the belly dance costumes, and promptly immersed myself in the endless racks of Swarovsky crystal-embellished goodies. Tex and I each tried on countless costumes, sighing over the Egyptian finery, longingly fingering the hand-beaded details. In our frenzied process, we promptly lost our street clothes amidst knee-high piles of glittering chiffon hip-scarves, their coins jingling merrily as we literally trudged through them, looking for one of my shoes.

  Finally  done with the costumes, we eagerly asked about   Isis Wings.  Though now a  belly dance staple, Isis Wings are glamorous, huge, pleated metallic chiffon wings with sticks on the ends to increase their span were hard to come by back in those days.  At the beginning of the New Millennium- practically no dancers had them unless they’d been custom made…but Little Egypt had scads of them, in every hue.

Seizing the opportunity, standing at the counter still minus my missing shoe, I negotiated a great price and selected a beautiful gold lame’ set of wings for myself. They were packed up for me in a darling little custom carrying case, which resembled a long, blue vinyl tube with handles. Suddenly snapping back into reality and realizing what time it was, Tex and I made a mad dash for the car and then she drove like Nascar champion to DFW airport.

Since I had only brought a small suitcase to the belly dance event, I decided to check my bag and carry my coveted, fragile  Isis Wings into the plane’s cabin with me, rather than cramming them in along with my costumes. Tex reassured me that I was making the right decision- the wings were simply too rare and delicate to relegate to a checked bag! We quickly said our good byes at the loading zone curb and I made a mad dash for my gate after checking my bag.

So there I was in the TSA security line, tenderly cradling my newly purchased Isis wings, stressing about whether I’d actually be let onto the plane, which was scheduled to depart in about twenty minutes. The line was moving at a snail’s pace, and I was still not through security.

Finally, it was my turn.  I lovingly slid my wings safely into a plastic bin and sent them on their way down the conveyor belt into the X-Ray machine. A seasoned traveler, I had removed any accessories that might have set off the metal detector and passed through easily.

 But the moment I thought I was free and clear, an obese female TSA agent began carelessly waving around my Isis wing carrying case, screaming in a nasal Plains twang that could only be described as The Trailer Trash Accent, yelling:

 “WHO DIS BELONG TO?”

  As I stepped up to claim my precious package, she demanded an explanation as to what, exactly, it was. I realized immediately that I’d be much better off not mentioning anything about belly dancing, assuming she’d somehow equate an Egyptian dance accessory with Arab Terrorists. As the woman gave me the stink eye, looking at me with a mixture of contempt and distrust, I noticed the perspiration rings under her tightly fitting uniform…apparently she took her job very seriously.  I also saw that she had an inordinate amount of dandruff, not to mention an IQ that was probably just barely in the double digits.

 She repeated her question, blowing breath that reeked of Corn Nuts directly into my face,

 “WHAT IS DIS?”

Keeping an even, cheerful tone, I said as nonchalantly as possible,

“Oh, I’m an actress from Los Angeles, and those are just… a set of big butterfly wings, I use them in a play, they’re part of a   stage costume.”

“WELL IT HAS RODS IN IT!” she huffed, “WHY THEM RODS IN THAAAYR?”

Beginning to seriously panic, with the seconds ticking away til my flight departed, I thought fast. What I needed was damage control- otherwise I was going to be spending the night on the floor in the airport!

“Why those aren’t rods,” I said as sweetly as I could muster,

 “Those are just like…little,tiny, skinny balsa-wood sticks… you know, like for a paper airplane? Just little…  Popsicle sticks! Those aren’t rods… They’re just pieces of craft-wood, light as a feather!”

 My voice trailed away as she regarded me sternly, as though I was a seasoned Plutonium smuggler, or some crazy criminal who just happened to be plotting a skyjacking with a set of newly purchased Isis Wings.

“WHY DIN’ YOU CHECK THIS?” she snarled, as though I was trying to bring an automatic weapon on board with me.

  Breath, I kept repeating to myself… just breathe…. you can do this.

“Well, ma’am, it’s just a very delicate stage costume,” I said quite earnestly, “I was afraid to check them, because I thought they’d get ruined.”

 “AHMONNA HAFTA CALL A SUPERVISOR!” she bellowed, and immediately made an announcement on the loudspeaker.

More time went by as we both waited for the supervisor to show up. Finally, I saw him coming. A dyed-in-the-wool Good Ole Boy, he ambled up to the security line, his TSA uniform augmented with cowboy boots, a straw cowboy hat, and a fancy silver rodeo belt buckle. He was rolling a wooden toothpick around in his mouth.

“JES’ WHASS GOIN’ ON AROUN’ HYAAAR?” he asked, hooking his thumbs into the rodeo belt, cocking his head to the side as he sized me up.

Immediately, I knew I had to play The Belly Dance Card.  To someone like him, a true redneck, the mere words “belly dance” would  probably get him all warm and fuzzy…or hot  ‘n’ bothered as the case may be… probably bringing to mind fond memories of wet T-shirt contests and bachelor-party pole dances. Though usually annoying, the general public’s misconception of Oriental Dance sometimes does, indeed, come in handy!

Standing straight up and thrusting my chest out so he had a direct sigh-line to my cleavage, I said in what I hoped was a tone of voice that sounded like I was a bona fide Reality Show Bimbo,

“Hi sir! I’m a belly dancer!”

He looked me up and down, through narrow eyes, chewing contemplatively on his toothpick.

“A BELLY DANCUH, HUH?” he grunted.

“Oh yes I am!” I answered, batting my eyelashes and twirling my hair flirtatiously.

“WELP, SHE SAID YOU HAD SOME RODS IN THAAYR, MID IF I TAKE A LOOK?”

 “Oh no sir,” I simpered, “Please go right ahead.”

He un-zipped my case, and began palpating it, before pulling out yards…and yards…and even more yards of pleated, metallic fabric.

Finally, he narrowed his eyes and addressed me, scratching under the brim of his cowboy hat.

“WHUD YEW SAYS THIS WAS AGIN?”

“It’s a stage costume, sir!”

 I wiggled a little to drive my point home before throwing a beaming grin in his direction.

 As he fingered the material thoughtfully, suddenly it looked like a light bulb went off in his head.

“HEY! I KNOW WHAT THISSY-HYAAR IS!” he smiled,

“THIS IS JES’ LIKE ELVIS, INNIT IT?”

 I didn’t have the foggiest notion of what he meant by that comment, but eager to please him, and more than eager to maybe actually make my plane, I nodded enthusiastically. If The King was something that would get me on my flight, I’d be more than happy to accept the comparison!

 “Yes! Why, yes it is just exactly like Elvis!” I agreed.

 “OH,” he grumbled to the female TSA agent,

 “SHE AIN’T GONNA DO NUTHIN’ WITH THIS! LET HER BE!”

 With that, I grabbed my wings and ran like hell to my gate. I was of course, the last passenger to board the flight.

 Puzzled by the entire thing and mulling the incident over in my head, it wasn’t til our aircraft was over Phoenix, Arizona that I realized what that man had thought my wings were: those Super-Hero circle-shaped capelets that Elvis had worn over his jumpsuits, towards the end of his career, when he was in his Fat Phase.

Now, years later, any time I don a pair of Isis Wings before a performance, I breathe a silent prayer of thanks to The King!

ALL ABOUT VEIL CARE

Who wants to see a beautiful belly dancer using rumpled, wrinkled veil onstage? Nobody! Here are some tips for keeping your veils stage-worthy:

Storing Veils

I like to keep my veils stored together with the costumes they compliment, but many belly dance costumes are so covered in rhinestones, coins, sequins and other types of bling-bling that they may snag the veil.

For local gigs, I have found that carefully folding or rolling a veil and then packing it into a gallon-sized plastic food storage bag works well for keeping my veils protected; I then slide the veil, in it’s own bag into my costume bag. If I am going out of town, or if my veil is going to be sitting in a suitcase or gig bag for hours, I roll the veil around a small cardboard tube, the kind that comes from the inside of paper towels. This seems to alleviate many of the fold lines and creases.

To cut down on wrinkles in 100% silk veils, many dancers wrap them layered with acid-free tissue paper, but even with this precaution, they wrinkle so easily, they will still probably have to be steamed or pressed before use. If you have veils that correspond with a number of costumes, you may want to store them separately. I fold them neatly and stack them into plastic containers , categorized by silk , chiffon and embellished or specialty veils. My friend Najah, a belly dance costume designer, taught me this trick: use over-the-door plastic shoe bags to store rolled veils, belly dance jewelry, finger cymbals and hip scarves in the compartments instead of shoes. This not only is a good use of space in your overly full costume closet, it makes it easy to see what color veils you have at a glance, as well as protecting the veils and your accessories.

Washing Veils

Most veils can be hand washed- or dry cleaned if you prefer- but be wary about dry cleaning unless you know for sure that your cleaner can deal with costume pieces safely- sequins or beads can become discolored or even melt during the dry cleaning process.

It would be wise to do a spot check on the fabric beforehand, to make sure it won’t run or fade if washed. Many veils are manufactured in foreign countries, colored without wash-safe dye, and veils that are made of 100% silk are often hand-dyed. If your veil is embellished with sequins and beads, they will not be harmed when immersed in water during hand washing. Use cool water to wash your veils, and a very mild detergent- I use baby shampoo. I recommend using the bathtub to wash veils in, so the fabric will not wrinkle or get bunched up. Fill your bathtub with cool water, and swish the veil around gently with your hands. Drain the tub and rinse a few times, and then hang the veil to dry.

I have also successfully used Dawn detergent or commercial stain removers like Resolve, to get lipstick and even food stains (ah, the wonders of dancing at a restaurant!) out of my veils. Once again, do a spot-check to make sure that the chemicals in the stain remover will not harm or discolor your veil.

If your veil isn’t embellished on the edges, you can also safely use a clothes dryer after you wash it. Put the dryer on a cool setting, and throw in a clean towel or two to absorb the extra moisture.

Pressing Veils

Veils without bead or sequin embellishments can be ironed easily- just make sure you use a heat setting that is appropriate for the fabric so you don’t scorch the material. For plain or heavily embellished veils, you can also use a clothing steamer instead of an iron to get wrinkles out.

If you opt to iron an embellished veil, you should press around the designs, so as not to flatten or melt the embellishments. A trick that also works for ironing a veil is to lay a light towel or flannel baby blanket over your veil, and use the iron on top of the towel or blanket.

Photo by Lapis

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GETTING GIG-READY: PERFORMANCE TIPS

We all know how crazy things can get when you have a show, and it doesn't seem to matter if it's your first-ever performance or just another hectic week traveling to an out-of-town workshop and show in the life of a professional dancer. Show days and the prep-time that ensues are always magnets for insanity, with the phone ringing non-stop, furtive hunts for costume pieces and lost liptsick, burning CD's, getting directions on-line and last minute emergencies- it never fails!

Before leaving for your gig, even if you are a seasoned pro, take a minute to check your gig bag and collect everything, including but not limited to your costume, finger cymbals and music. Make sure you’ve packed your iPod and or CD’s,a back up CD in case the sound system can't/won't play it, or even a different set burned onto another CD in the event that another performer might be using the same piece of music. This happens more than you might think!

The moment you go onstage is not optimal time to test out a new piece of music, so whether you are doing a choreography or improvising, make sure you are familiar with whatever it is you're about to dance to.

If you are working with a live band, learn the names of at the very least 4 or 5 popular Arabic songs that you are familiar with, so you can request the songs you want and there won't be any surprises or “mystery music”. Always bring along a pair of dance sandals, ballet slippers or ballroom shoes in case the floor or stage is dirty or splintery. Your gig bag should also include necessities like a cover-up, make-up for touch-ups, a sewing kit, band-aids, tampax, baby-wipes or a small a towel, and bottled water.

Though you are undoubtedly familiar with this concept… PLEASE WARM UP WELL BEFORE YOU DANCE! If you get injured while performing, you will lose out on future opportunities and jobs, as well as your own dancing pleasure… not to mention the fact that you’ll be in pain! It’s also an absolute necessity to stretch and cool down AFTER dancing or rehearsing, as well.

If you are not beginning your performance onstage, before you enter, let the musical intro or a few bars go by before you hit the stage, to add some drama. When you make your entrance, it's good to move around the whole stage or performance area to establish yourself to the audience. Let them get a good look at you, and become accustomed to your unique presence. Dance into your performance space as though you are claiming territory. You can’t afford to be tentative- a nervous dancer creates a nervous audience!

If you enter “old school” style with your veil wrapped, let some time go by before you remove your veil, to add a touch of suspense. If you are entering Egyptian style (sans wrapped veil) do a few circles of the stage, some light veil work, and either ditch the veil altogether (out of your dance path and in a place where no one can step on it) or put it into "storage" by wrapping it around your neck, so you can use it later at a slower point in your routine.

If you are going to incorporate a prop, make sure to “introduce” it to your audience, so the crowd can get a full appreciation of what they’re about to experience. For example, instead of just plopping a sword onto your head, make sure to really display it to it’s fullest advantage, letting the lights gleam on the blade, so the audience can appreciate that it’s a a real metal sword and not a fake. Be aware of the angle of your props, too. Fans, for example, are best displayed FLAT to the audience, so the crowd can see the full “wingspan”.

TAKE YOUR TIME! Don't give everything up at once. Walk in like a queen, the DIVA that you are, and show yourself off. Let the audience get a good look at how beautiful you are…let them admire your costume, and wonder about where this dance journey will take them. Start building the energy level slowly; save some tricks, whether it's veil work, snazzy zills, crazy shimmies or great undulations-whatever- for later, to keep the audience interested. Remember that sometimes onstage adrenalin makes time seem to go by differently, so mentally remind yourself every so often to relax and slow down.

In many Arabic night clubs, dancing among and around the tables is discouraged, but this is perfectly acceptable at belly dance showcases, most restaurants, and especially at parties, unless the host has requested that you don’t. Some people equate this with soliciting tips, and believe it looks tacky. Acceptable ways of being tipped are: having the money showered over your head, Arabic club style; bills being (politely) tucked into your costume; money being handed to you or to the waiter (for you) after your performance. Though it goes without saying, being groped by customers or having bills offered to you ORALLY are not only disrespectful to you, but completely unacceptable in any arena or venue! Don't stand for this sort of behavior. However, if there’s a troublesome drunk or an obnoxious kid in your audience, you can usually deflect the situation humorously by embarrassing the person whose doing it. This will usually stop the idiot from continuing, as well as take the threat out of the situation. By pulling a comical, over-the-top “I’m shocked!” type of facial expression, or just shaking your head no, like the tipper has to be crazy, you can usually get your point across. More likely than not, a member of the party the offender is with will ask him to stop so you don't have to. Remember: ultimately, YOU are in control of YOUR show. If anyone really becomes a problem, remove yourself from the situation immediately and explain the matter to the owner, manager headwaiter or person who hired you. They don't like this sort of vulgarity, either; it puts a bad light on their establishment.

Though this doesn’t usually apply at haflas or dance festivals, if you are working a club or stage show or even a private party, try not to mingle with attendees or customers in your costume before or after a show. To do this is not a faux-pas, but it does kind of diminish the magic you are creating for your show. Either throw on your caftan, or change quickly. Don't ruin the illusion of your costume by parading around in it. If you are working at a club or restaurant, you might want to bring a second costume if you have more than one show, too.

And a word about dressing rooms: no matter WHO you are, where you perform, or how long you have danced, a good dressing room is hard to find! In spite of what our dressing room fantasies are, dressing rooms are usually tiny, crowded, too hot or freezing, drafty, damp, or stuffy. They are rarely well-lit, and there is never enough mirror or floor space, especially if you count in multiple performers, and this goes double at dance festivals. I have changed in toilets, outdoor sheds, hallways, broom closets, even in the stage wings. Once, at a huge dance festival in Salisbury, UK, the performer’s dressing room was a cattle storage pen! I kid you not…it was clean and there wasn’t any livestock around ( thankfully!) but still, it was crazy. Of course, I couldn’t resist a photo-op!

Many venues or event producers provide water and food ( or snacks, at least) but be prepared! Long tech rehearsals or waiting around during a full-length show can take it’s toll on your appetite- and your stamina. It’s hard to perform with a growling stomach or low blood sugar. Keep some nuts or a nutrition bar in your gig bag along with some bottled water. Leg-warmers, slippers, a towel or baby-wipes, a light sweater or hoodie might be things you wish you’d thought to bring along! Try to have a friend watch your purse, or find a secure place to leave it while you perform. Also, in spite of whatever you want to think about the morality of your sister dancers or, for that matter, the wait-staff, if you are gigging at a large venue with many other acts, and you don’t know the people you are working with or working for , lock your suitcase!

After your show, remember to pick up your veil, zills, swords, or other props after your performance. Also remember to get your iPod or CD back, and double check your costume bags so you don't forget make-up, small costume pieces, shoes, tips or anything else. Do a double-dummy check- especially in crowed situations. Recently, I left an entire make-up bag backstage at the “Tales Of Desire” DVD shoot. It was so hectic and crowded backstage it was hard to tell where one person’s suitcase left off and another began! There was stuff literally littering the entire floor! If it wasn’t for Sabrina Fox of Atash Maya, I would’ve lost all my shit… and no make-up is a death sentence for a glammy Princess like me!

Check about the ethnic customs and/or general taste of the audience you will be dancing for, If you are uncertain about a risqué costume choice, for example, it’s always safer to go with something a bit more covered up. Though it’s hard to believe, some people still frown upon tattoos, as do many Arabic clubs,so you might want to cover them with clothing or make-up. Recently, with tattoos and piercings becoming a mainstream trend, this may not matter as much as it used to. I myself am heavily tattooed and pierced, and have not encountered any problems- but it does ultimately pay for you to be aware of what your audience’s comfort level is. When performing at strictly belly dance events put on by other dancers or at parties thrown by friends, you can be a bit more lax about everything, assuming you have a handle on your audience’s taste and preference.

Remember, you may be the first belly dancer someone has ever seen. Do everything you can to put on a beautiful, amazing show. Relax and have fun, and your audience will, too. Always be professional as possible….and once again: warm up! IT’S THE LAW!

Pictured: Dancer Rachel Bennett and I hamming it up backstage in Salisbury, UK, June 2007…in the Cattle Pen!
Me backstage at the "Tales Of Desire" DVD shoot for Hollywood Music Center