We give our all for burlesque, don't we? Blood, glittery sweat, and tears. It's not often we can say "real" blood is involved. Fake blood? Yes, sometimes alot of fake blood but that's another story. This macabre burlexplanation is brought to you by messiness, knives and penetration. Told by the fairest of them all, Lola LaVacious.
If anyone really knows me well knows I have the most uncanny talent of sustaining random injuries in unique ways. This particular incident was no exception..except it included a very sharp object. With all of my projects for designing and creating pasties and other burly effluvia I've been lucky at not getting any cuts or scrapes the last few years. I have been victim to cheap glitter paper cuts under the nailbed...ripped skin from too strong glue, splinters the size of logs in my hand right before hitting the stage...you get the point.
Sharp things like scissors, rotary cutters, and seam rippers have been my tools I could count on for their work and I always took great care of these tools as to prevent any mishap. They are always the first thing to be carefully put away in their respected places...until a new guy joined the pack.
I bought a handy dandy mini soldering tool set for soldering jewelry, woodburning, stencil cutting and especially the long blade for foam board. I had created these "fan tacos" for my newest piece for it debut on the lovely Athenaeum stage with some of my favorite dancers in the city. Gorgeous silk veils streaming around the stage while I performed barefoot was a beautiful idea...until The Incident.
Night before the show I was cleaning up my office space strewn with boxes of jewelry and feathers and foamboard while spending some time with a good pal of mine. While mindlessly chattering away and cleaning IT happened. Approximately two inches below the medial ankle bone or the inside part of the ankle and cool steelyness entered. It didn't quite hurt per se but something was not right. I looked down to see the long blade of the soldering kit which was still attached to the main handle of the tool sticking into my foot. I paused taking in the situation and realize I would need to remove it gently...no problemo until it started bleeding. My dear friend snapped into action asking for the first aid kit once I told them what occurred. (They will always be a part of my dream zombie apocalypse team for their non squidgy reaction and calmness)
I simply asked for a paper towel and continue cleaning beginning with the proper storage of the blasted tool so nobody else could get hurt.
My fella came home not even a few mins after the incident and sighed deeply in resignation upon hearing the news. A few butterfly bandages later I thought I was good to go...until I couldnt put weight on the foot the next morning...the morning of the performance! How does one go onstage limping with such delicate fans? I was able to seek professional help and got my ankle stabilized with kinesiotape...hot pink kinesiotape...a sharp contract to the black white and silvers in my costuming. I was thinking of the lame humiliation I woul endure in explaining why I had so much tape to these pro dancers that perform with traumatic injuries sustained by being amazing dancers. Quick fix or the nite black crew sox with the toes and heels cut out to give it the "arty" edge. I performed my routine that evening with no one the wiser except maybe questioning my costume choices.
Note to self: always clean your room.
Our dear Lola is on the cutting edge of many things, but hopefully this will be the last time involving sharp objects!
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Thanks for reading and stay fabulous, friends!