Sa’dia and I danced for the Springfield Junior League Charity Fundraiser, raising money to prevent child abuse, at the restaurant, Touch, Saturday night. I previously wasn’t sure what the charity was for since Sa’dia was handling the business side of things. We heard the head count was around 500 of well-to-do charity going folk, at which we and the wait staff, hidden behind a screen upstairs, baulked at the idea of how much annual income was collectively sitting in the other room. We would be dancing at the same time, (one of us upstairs, one down,) basic restaurant style, i.e. dancing around and between tables, etc. However, we couldn’t decide who would dance upstairs and who go down the staircase to dance on the first floor. We were at the point of having to Paper-Rocks-Scissors over it, when I decided since I was wearing a full circle skirt, walking gracefully down the stairs with it dragging the steps behind me would not only look bad, but certainly involve me getting tangled and rolling down head first to the bottom. At which, I could start my own charity... but I digress.
So the music came on the over head speakers, we rushed the room, to most patrons' surprise and danced like we meant it. Some of them smiled, some avoided eye contact, some looked something between put-out and really confused, and others just completely ignored us altogether. Pretty standard. I could barely hear the music, just the monotonous drone of tabla over the din of people talking and eating. (So much for all of the listening and practicing before hand.) In one of the side rooms there was no music at all. I got really strange looks there when I came dancing in to the beat of my own drum, (so to speak,) at which I quickly made my exit and didn’t dance in that room again. I spent my time upstairs completely making stuff up to all of the accents and melodies that I could really only hear in my memory. Oh, and no tips. Granted this was a charity event, but I think Springfield polite society thinks bellydance is like the soft porn of stripping and tipping us would implicate them in some sort of immoral behavior, (as if we didn’t already know about all their dirty little secrets.) Anyway, it was pretty quick and painless, no one was disgruntled or treated us poorly, and we even got paid.
I decided to take Naima bellydance make-up transformation pics for giggles this time. Quite amazing really. First we have the before pic... Yes, I am really this scary and usually look this disgruntled, (so I'm told.) I start with managing my chin hairs by “plucking” my “beard.” I did not take pics of that because it is both a private and painful task better left undocumented. I also roll or straighten my hair somewhere at this point. This night was rollers.
Second, mascara followed by eyeliner and false eyelashes. I start here and not with foundation, because applying false eyelashes is the hardest thing to do and if I screw it up first then I don’t have to completely redo everything else to fix it. I buy non-fancy, non-expensive lashes and trim them to about ¾ the length of my upper lid. If you wear them from corner to corner, they will be a bit heavy and tend to make you look kinda sad or doped up. I put a thin layer of eyelash glue along the base and set them aside until the glue it tacky to the touch. Very important step! Meanwhile, I apply my mascara and/or eyeliner. By the time I’m done the glue is usually ready. That way it will stick where I place them but also still be movable and not smear glue everywhere. I sometimes blow on the glue to get it to dry quicker if I’m in a hurry. I start at about ¼ of the way from the inner corner of my lid and lay them on my lash line all the way to the outer corner of my lid.
Next, I channel my inner drag queen and put on foundation followed by lips, checks, eye shadow, and eyebrows. I know, I’m a disgrace to all drag queens out there, but big improvement, huh?! Finally, I take my hair down and add hair widget of some sort, hop into my costume and TA DA!
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