Oh, The Glamourous Life!

Dear Constant Reader,

I hate writing these. This one more than most. And it’s taken me so long to figure out what to say.

Toni Elling was the first Legend I met. It was at Miss Exotic World 2006, the first time the event was held in Las Vegas (and the only time I’ve been.) I was sitting by the registration desk, chatting, and this graceful woman came over and said “You look like what we would call an ‘exotic’.” then complimented my outfit and apologized for interrupting. I believe I was speechless beyond “thank you”.

To paraphrase Scratch, when she walked into a room, you looked; when she spoke, you listened (if you were smart). I learned many nuggets of wisdom from her that I still use and gift to my students. At The Expo I was escorting her back to her room after her class on panels. I was planning to head to Willy Barrett’s Delsarte class — I never miss one if I can help it — after I dropped her off. But she she invited me in and started talking. I stayed, of course, delighted for the honor of a private conversation.

I had the fortune and pleasure to see her several times and each time, no matter the circumstances, she always remembered where we had last seen each other and had something kind to say. The last time we spoke, a big group Zoom call for her 92nd birthday, I was sure she wouldn’t remember who I was, but she thanked me for my latest letter, apologized for not writing back, and said she hoped to come to Boston again. Later, it was so painful to learn that her sharp mind was failing her.

She was gracious and graceful and the epitome of class. Recently Scratch shared this story with me. I think it demonstrates well those virtues of hers. When she was the Guest of Honor at The Expo, on Sunday morning, Scratch took her out for a quiet breakfast at a diner not far from our house. Albert had been in our life for just about a year and I think this was the longest we’d been away from him. Scratch was talking about him and Miss Toni must have picked up on the love and worry because she said “I think I’d like to meet this cat of yours.” Scratch brought her to The Manor where I’m sure she and Albert charmed one another.

My heart goes out to all those who are mourning their Mama Toni, especially GiGi Holiday and Lottie Ellington who took such good care of her.

There’s a lovely article about Miss Toni and her legacy in the Detroit Metro Times.

Farewell, Satin Doll.

Dear Constant Reader,

I hate writing these missives. The death of every Legend is a tragedy. We lose so much of our history with them. But this one cuts very deep.

Photo by John Bilotti at The Great Burlesque Expo.

I saw her for the first time at Miss Exotic World in Las Vegas in 2006. In a voice I never heard before from him, tinged with awe and delight, Scratch said, almost reverently, “That’s Kitten Natividad!” I replied “Who?”

I learned who she was — Russ Meyer’s muse, burlesque Legend, Miss Nude Universe, porn star. And eventually our friend.

I’m usually more than a little intimidated by Legends, but she was so open and friendly that all my apprehensions just melted away. We got along very well, which surprised me sometimes. She was so exuberant and unapologetic, where I am reserved and demure. One year for my birthday she gave me fishnet bodystockings, saying how good I’d look. It took me a little while to get used to the idea, but she was right.
Photo by Altar Boy Photography

Whenever Scratch and I went to Los Angeles we would visit her and take her out (and she would take my leftovers home). The last trip was the best. She insisted we stay in her guest suite and Scratch made her breakfast every morning. We would sit in her courtyard and watch her crazy kittens race around. The night we left, we took her to dinner at Musso & Frank, our favorite L.A. restaurant and hers too. I think this is the only picture I have of us together.
Photo by a waiter at Musso and Frank

Then the pandemic came. We would call her from time to time and check in. We always talked about visiting as soon as we could. She would say “And you’ll stay with meeee!” We would assure her we would and Scratch would cook for her. And then we would tell her we loved her. That’s not something I say casually.

She told such wonderful stories about her time in burlesque, in porn, with Russ, but she was just as interested and enthusiastic about we were doing. When Scratch opened the American Burlesque Collection, she was so supportive. One of the exhibits was dedicated to Latina burlesque performers and a big part was devoted to her. I know Scratch did a little video tour for her, but I wish she could have seen it in person.

The last time we were in touch, she told us the cancer had come back. I said I would drop everything and come see her. She said “I’m not going anywhere” so we talked about going out for Scratch’s birthday in November or mine in February.

I wish I had known how sick she really was. Even if she couldn’t have had visitors, I wish we’d called her one more time.

I’m devastated. I can’t believe I’ll never see her again, never hear her wonderful laugh or feel her infectious delight for everything. I hope she knew how much I love her.

She touched and inspired so many of us. Lili VonSchtupp wrote a lovely tribute on her Patreon. Last year Angie Pontani interviewed Kitten for her podcast, The Bump ‘n Grind.

The thing I loved most about Kitten was the unbridled joy she took in life. She regretted nothing that she had done. I cannot think of a better tribute to her than to live life on those terms.

Dear Constant Reader,

Last night I got the sad news that Tempest Storm had died at 93*. In some way I thought she’d outlive us all.

She was probably the most famous of our Living Legends and I don’t need to rehash her life and career here (you can read her memoir or see Teaserama or the 2016 documentary Tempest Storm).

I first saw Tempest at Miss Exotic World in 2006. She strutted on stage in a purple evening gown and boa to the beat of an actual drummer. She was every inch a queen and owned that room. She had the audience in the palm of her hand her entire act (I think it was about 3 songs; definitely more time than anyone else got). This was a true connection between or past and our present, right there on stage in front of me. Even in her late 70s, she was gorgeous and graceful.

A couple of years later I was overwhelmed to learn we** would be performing in Tempest Storm’s Las Vegas Burlesque Revue for its New England dates. Tempest wasn’t performing, since she had recently broken her hip, but she introduced the show with her charming accent and gave the audience a good look at her famous figure and trademark flaming hair. She was so kind and gracious, posing for pictures and signing autographs afterwards. After the show at the Merrill Auditorium in Portland, Maine (easily the biggest venue I’ve ever played), the cast went out for a late-night seafood feast. At a long table packed with performers, there were oysters and wine and lots of loud conversation and laughter. I think we were celebrating Angie Pontani’s birthday. Tempest sat quietly at the end of the table, with a soft smile. I wish I had known what to say to draw her out, convince her to tell some stories of her amazing life, but I was too awestruck.

I’m grateful for those small brushes with greatness. Tempest was not just a Legend; she was Legendary. Her death is the end of an era. Our world is a little duller without her sparkle.

These writings and other creative projects are supported by my 14 Patrons. Thank you so much! To become a Patron, go to my Patreon page. Or you can just tip me if you liked this.

*or 23 — she was born on February 29.
**Betty and I were performing; Scratch ended up, as usual, supplying vital tech expertise and backstage support, including providing a chaise for Kitten DeVille to hump.

Dear Constant Reader,

The world has lost a burlesque legend. Blaze Starr, famed for her flaming couch, black panther, affair with the governor of Louisiana, and unrepentant attitude, died last week. You can read her obituary in the New York Times, if you like.

I’m not going to recap her fascinating life story here, for that you should read Blaze Starr: My Life as Told to Huey Perry, which I reviewed here some years ago.

At that time The Boston Babydolls were creating Madame Burlesque: An Evening of Tributes, a show inspired by the stars of burlesque’s Golden Age. For the most part, we weren’t doing tributes as most burlesquers use the term, meaning a re-creation of a legend’s signature act, but new acts that were inspired by those legendary performers.

Betty Blaize was creating a Blaze Starr-inspired act for one of her numbers and Scratch wanted permission before bringing it to the stage. Miss Starr generously granted it, via email, requesting that the act be “in good taste”. Betty performed a slinky, sultry striptease climaxing with the famed flames.

I was told that when Blaze’s couch burst into flames, sometimes she would holler “barbecue tonight, boys!”. Every time Betty’s flames ignited, she really, really wanted to follow suit, but it would have wrecked the mood she was creating and therfore violated the good taste request.

We’re really honored that we were allowed to present a piece in Miss Starr’s name and with her blessing.

Recently Scratch acquired this fabulous piece of Blaze Starr memorabilia:

It means a lot to us because of the Boston connection. The Pilgrim Theater was in the Combat Zone, where burlesque fled after the redevelopment of Scollay Square, and was probably the last true burlesque house in Boston. A number of big names performed there in the mid 1970’s and I suspect this handbill was from 1974.

Bold, brash, larger than life, and a good businesswoman, Blaze Starr made a huge impact on the world of burlesque (and politics!). She will not be forgotten.