Jacqui Dark talks about the journey to the Adelaide Cabaret Festival…
Episode 1 – Preparation
Tuesday night. The detritus of an absolutely despicable night of culinary excess gathers around us as our eyes meet over our bowls of apricot pie and cream. A folorn, empty packet of Cheezels sits dejectedly next to our orange-stained, piggy fingers and the block of Cadbury Marvellous (which was SURELY created by the devil of gluttony) croons the siren song of its shiny, purple people as we stuff our faces with gooey goodness.
Yes, folks, this is the last hurrah. We all know it! This is the evening of ‘let’s eat everything we possibly can without throwing up, for tomorrow we diet.’. This is the evening that was meant to come a long time ago. The evening before the morning when we begin our body onslaught to become hot, sexy and generally utterly shaggable before we hit the Cabaret Festival circuit. The only fly in the chocolatey, sugary, pasty-filled ointment is that our first gig, the prestigious Adelaide Cabaret Festival, is next week. Ohhhh, I hear the naysayers scoffing, you can’t POSSIBLY make a difference in that time … but didn’t JLo lose 47kg in three days post-baby? Surely it’s possible!
This evening came about after a superb little show we performed on Friday night in the glorious spa town of Daylesford. It was a dream gig, given that Kanen’s family live in the town and basically half the tickets sold were to his mum’s friends, and a goodly chunk went to my mum’s entourage, who were swanning up from Ballarat to partake in our particularly piquant combo of filth and heart. In short – a gorgeous audience, a fantastic show that we poured our hearts and loins into and love performing, and an unexpectedly awesome little venue with all of the rich, red, dimly-lit ambience that we love in a cabaret venue. Plus a central spotlight that changed colour every time we made a sound, Seriously. Awesome, psychedelic stuff! We were pumped. We were excited. We were ready! And then we tried to put on our corsets. Our cossies basically consist of steampunk corsets over fishnets and hotpants (see pic). Kane wears them well, with his long legs and impossible metabolism, and I wear them in a sassy, Rebel Wilson-esque, ‘don’t look at my midriff because I have awesome boobs’ kinda way that I’d heretofore been comfortable with. We tried to put them on. We pulled, we tugged, we grunted, we groaned. We ended up squeezing the sides of our own corset together while the other hooked the front up. We narrowly avoided having bits of tummy caught in the clasps. We did NOT avoid a serious and potentially show-stopping incident involving man-boobs, vigorous dancing and leather studs. Back-fat cascaded. Lungs were crushed. But the show went on to a standing ovation and only a couple of outraged walkouts. The show went on with a jiggle and a quiver. The show went on with the promise that tomorrow we would address this rather flabby issue.
So here we are. Committed to a healthy regime of paleo-organic-gluten-free-carbo-poor-kale-enhanced-lentil-rich diet (or at least cutting out the junk). Committed to going to the gym every day (or at least walking around the block). When you see us, you’ll want to shag us. Trust us.