The colonial fin de siècle, Roaring 20s & 30s and wartime Swinging 40s for Katoomba and the rest of the mountains saw a honeymooner’s paradise burgeon in the beauty of the altitudes, and became, there can be little denying, the liaison destination of choice for Sydneysiders, after nuptials or before, the spa-taker’s retreat flourished into a Deco dream of style and love within a world class wilderness. It is somewhat of a tradition in the high mountains that providing it doesn’t spook the horses, or better still involve livestock at all, the love can run paganly free.
The burlesque element, desirable or otherwise, returned to the hills this winter festival for a taster, recalling the glory days of those sensual and amusing times. Sugartime’s gypsy caravan of quick change delight rolled into town in the midst of solstice celebrations. During wintermagic pagans, fairies, and frivolity walk the street. Tonight Sugartime added Snowball Burlesque to the mix.
Burlesque is about play-up, it is the agitprop of the distasteful. So baroque it resists straightening into a church service sit down. If you’re going to sit; drink absinthe or be vivacious, burlesque is no place for the glum. The burlesque resurgence in
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