I became Carmen in Macao
There was a brief moment in time when I worked as a showgirl in Macao. I was hired as a burlesque dancer in a beautiful venue called something or other, and it was the most challenging work experience of my life. I was alone in a Chinese-Portuguese town, living and working with mainly Russian and Ukrainian beauties. who for whatever reason, aligned to make my life a living hell. They hated me and told me so ever. single. day. And they aimed to prove it too. Between not speaking the local languages and being shunned by my coworkers, the isolation was intense.
The establishment didn't tell me until after my 26-hour travel day from Toronto to China, that they were a hostess bar so the bulk of my duties (and paycheck) consisted of sitting with clientele to make sure they drank a lot and often in order to fill a quota or else the venue would forego my pay completely. (yup) There's more to their financial gouging but why go into it? Your girl made a mistake working for them and sadly, performing was just a fraction of the job. I was stuck there for the longest six weeks of my life.
I quickly learned that the clientele couldn't easily pronounce my name, they lost interest in me if I came off as educated and my pin-up esthetic didn't fly either... So I made up a new persona to see me through my contract. Carmen was ruthless. She wore simple dresses, barely used makeup, wasn't easily amused, only spoke Spanish, and only laughed facetiously at men when they flaunted bankrolls. She pulled out the Femme Fatale from within me and without her, I don't think I would have survived.
My overall ambivalence in Macao was what I brought to this photo shoot with John Ball. You'll see Rosie Mae and a sweet barber man who brought his vintage car to the shoot. I can't credit him, because I've forgotten his name. ah well. Enjoy