Project Flying Siren

Ah, the siren. She's human, but wild in the most wonderful way, a mysterious creature of the wind and waves, a predator but the sweetest kind. I've loved this concept for years and always wanted to put it in play in an aerial or pole piece. While I'm nowhere near as experienced in the air as I am on the pole, and I didn't think there was a conceptually logical way to make a pole-dancing mermaid work, the concept was just too good to put away for good. But after about two years of (very sporadic) lyra classes, and a lot of playing around on my own, this summer I felt comfortable enough to attempt a piece where my legs wouldn't be available for emergency gripping, spin assistance, invert help or audience distraction, haha!

A friend of mine is a professional mermaid - what a brilliant job title, right!? She's incredibly talented in the water and recently got into circus herself, performing acro yoga as part of her shows for parties and corporate events - in her swimmable silicone tail! (Check out her fantastical adventures as Catalina Mermaid at Sheroes Entertainment!) That was the final push I needed - if she could mermaid it up in the circus world, I could too, and I needed to stop dreaming and make it happen. 

The original inspiration.

Once I decided I really, absolutely, must find a way to do this, I started doing research. Pinterest is of course a godsend for conceptual development these days. It's a great way to find a huge amount of visual touchstones that help you shape a nebulous concept into a good story. This photo of a mermaid on the rocks was the first image I saw that really struck me.

The tail would be the biggest challenge. Sticky silicone wouldn't work, since it would grip the lyra and prevent me from doing anything. It's also enormously expensive and not very sparkly, bad for stage performances under bright lights. What is smooth, sparkly and looks like scales? SEQUINS. Every pole dancer's favorite fabric. So I began searching far and wide for a sequin fabric that would hold up to repeated aerial scuffing, pulling and compressing under body weight. I wanted hanging sequins, not the kind sewn or glued side by side to the fabric, so that they would actually look like scales when made into a tail. And I knew I wanted gold or white - both bright, beautiful shades that would look great in performance. Fortunately, they were also colors that worked with Catalina's tails in case we wanted to join forces for performances in the future.

Perfect glittering gold scales!

When I finally found a matte gold, it looked just right. Not too shiny, just enough, and the right shade of koi fish gold. I sketched out a tail design, keeping in mind that the seams around my feet, attaching the fin to the body of the tail and keeping it on my body as I twisted and contorted in the hoop would be the critical pieces of the project. I didn't want a tail sliding off of me in the middle of a show. Initially I wanted to make a koi fish pattern too, with the gold and white patches on one tail.

When the fabric arrived I realized that the sequins were sewn in rows - every cut edge of the fabric risked a row of sequins coming unraveled from the base mesh, and leaving me with a patch of scale-less tail. So after a little testing - I cut out a pattern, and tried to think of a way to work in the patches of gold and white without risking an unraveling disaster, but pretty quickly I realized it would be way, way too much work. I only had two months before an upcoming studio showcase and I wanted the piece to be ready by then. Maybe with six months (and a better sewing machine) I could make the koi pattern work, but for the first tail I figured I would stick with a solid gold, and a white fin.

At this point in the project, I started putting together the actual aerial movement. Obviously I needed to know if there was enough material (that I could actually accomplish) for a full song. I sketched out all the leg-together moves I could think of and started some serious Youtube research. Although I really wanted lots of flips and drops, the tail would only survive multiple performances if I took it pretty easy. So most of the piece would be a show of strength and flexibility. I started putting together some combinations during open studio time, tying my legs together with a scarf to simulate the restriction of a tail.  

For the actual sewing, I did as much testing as I could before cutting the sequins. Once I made the cuts, there was no fixing it. I used a thin Neoprin fabric for the base layer, and sewed the sequins to that only along the edges. It was a real challenge, pinning the sequins onto myself while wearing the Neoprin tube - since surprise surprise, the sequin fabric was only stretchy in the vertical direction. So it had to fit nearly perfect, within an inch or so. 

Chiffon tail with plastic ribs, and Neoprin tail base completed. Below is the original full-size pattern sketch, before I realized I couldn't use the koi pattern, and glue testing on a scrap of white sequins, chiffon and the plastic I used for the tail ribs.

Getting ready to cut - the scariest part!

All the parts, ready to come together, finally.

Draped sequins over the Neoprin base. The fin is mostly finished.

The fin at the end of the tail would really make or break the illusion, and like my inspiration photo, I wanted it to flow like a butterfly koi's fins in water. So I headed out to Jo-Ann fabrics for a couple hours of fabric-inspecting, bolt-unwinding and wiggling swatches in the air. I settled on a white chiffon and found a glue that I thought would secure the chiffon to a clear plastic shelf liner that would give it a little support (like the flexible "ribs" in a fish's fin that help it spread and move the fin). And of course some gold and white paint to disguise the junction.

Every day for about a month, I did a little bit of work. Testing glue (it didn't work so well), sewing chiffon to plastic (much better), attaching sequins to Neoprin, velcro to the waistband, gluing sequins to the chiffon for an even "fade" from scales to fin.

What to do about the boobage? I considered pasties for authenticity but that immediately takes the performance to a level of eroticism that I didn't want. Sensual, yes. Overtly sexual, not so much. The traditional seashells seemed overdone and boring. Maybe a draped pearl collarpiece, big and dramatic, over a nude bra. I bought a few strings of fake pearls, combined that with some that I already had and strung them on fishing line to drape around my neck, over the bra. Then after I found a nice drape, I sewed it all down flat. Bingo, pretty mermaid top.

In the end I only had a chance to run the piece in the tail once before the show, because it took so long to finish! But all my over-prepping paid off. Besides completely tiring myself out with all the upper-body work, it came together perfectly, and this little mermaid took flight!

Bringing the flying siren to life was definitely a challenge. Normally, splitting your legs during aerial transitions helps move your weight quickly and spread the load that your arms have to lift. But this piece is all about the arms and core. I absolutely felt the difference in my pole work after performing this piece - I'm sure I put on some new muscle. But more than anything, developing this concept so thoroughly set the bar higher for the next ones. I watched a lot of mermaid scenes from various movies to get into character, and tried to move extra slinky like I had a tail, not two legs stuck together... it was wonderful to focus on one story so intensely.

And here's a shameless plug. If you'd like to see it all in living color, I'm performing a new, even richer, somewhat scary version of this piece at Girl Next Door's Boo Bash halloween show this Sunday, October 28. I can't wait to flip my fin around again and make all those sequins shine. I have to admit, it's a little addictive.