{"id":160766,"date":"2024-10-08T16:52:05","date_gmt":"2024-10-08T15:52:05","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/centmagazine.co.uk\/?p=160766"},"modified":"2024-10-08T17:31:12","modified_gmt":"2024-10-08T16:31:12","slug":"illuminated-centre-stage-of-the-scented-cabaret","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/staging.centmagazine.co.uk\/?p=160766","title":{"rendered":"Illuminated Centre Stage of The Scented Cabaret"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

In the most louche style she sashayed into her dressing room, her work-day boudoir; lazily shrugging off her furs, letting them fall on the dusty wooden floors where sequins like fallen heroes, decorate the surface giving off star-busts sparks. The tired, but hard working illuminated vanity mirror, its bulbs alight, glow on her weary yet still beautiful face, reminding her there is work to be done; layers of magic to be created. If she is going to be centre stage, she has to be ‘show ready’. After all, life is a cabaret and should you want to enjoy her sensual pleasures, then she will entertain you for sure, she will make your stare, she will make you an addict of her Centre Stage performance<\/a>, but firstly, she must be her scented, adorned, glimmering painted self. Explore her here Illuminated Centre Stage of The Scented Cabaret<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

The image on left-hand side, Samantha Inman @rememberingtobreathe<\/a> <\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Once the chorus girl now the star, centred on the wooden smokey stage of weathered wooden boards, where lights<\/a> focus on her but also highlight the years of rising dust of every performer before her, who has had their moment under the lights. Here she slithers, glistens, entices and raptures, her audience not just in love with her; adoration is the emotion. She knows the power she holds over them. <\/p>\n\n\n

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But first, before the spell, comes the layer of seduction she must create, the preparation of these parts that turn her from beautiful star into a majestic angelic superstar.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

In her intimate room she dresses herself, sparkles dotted amidst the colours of her lavender corset with feathers of white, tips tinged with orange, and cardamom soft green. Her diamond white waistline, tightly drawn highlights her generous bosom and softened feline curves all cushioned to titillate the well-bread gentlemen<\/a> and and tease the society women. Her blooming corsage of dreamy white flowers pinned to highlight her long elegant neck. Her dainty feet enclosed in leopard print boots with wooden heels warn; she has the power of a wild animal.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Her face is next. First comes the powdery-waxy war paint of covering the skin to be flawless; in order to shine she must be perfect. She fills her eyebrows dark and strong, the lashes next, full black and as feathery as her fringed boa, her sapphire eyes rimmed in blackest kohl twinkle back at her as she edges them in golden stardust.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The boldest cheek colours, aid the curve and chisel, bringing the desired angles of drama to the face. Again, shimmer edges the bones adding the drama of ‘cliffs’ to her high-boned cheeks.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Next it has to be the bloodiest red, the red claret depth of the velvet <\/a>curtains of the stage applied to the mouth to bring that sultry sensorial yet juicy accent to her face.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Yet before she can fully be the chanteuse she truly is, she must press the golden bottle top, realising a mist of perfumed allure; now she is ready. Her scent, one that echoes back to her her very own power, she is the brightest star of all. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

However many society ladies will stand out in satins, laces, furs and diamonds, she is always the most important and beautiful in the room. As much as she is the centre of the picture she knowns, she says to herself I Am a Camera<\/a><\/em>, I will draw all these faces into me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Her face is animated and alive, ready for her performance, her wireless throws out dance tunes getting her hips twitching as she descends the stairs of her dressing room making her way towards the area of her performance , she catches in her nose, the wooden stairs, smokey and musty with years of performers passing and treading the detritus of their life into the flooring.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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