Dainty Smith - carving her own life

… I always say, all art-making is an exercise in trust. You’re just trying to have faith that someone out there likes what you do … I sometimes feel like I’m shouting into the abyss. And I very often make the joke ‘Are you there God? Hey it’s me!’

And this is Dainty Smith! I am deliberately not going to write an introduction, because this interview deserves more of a conclusion - so read till the end.

Tell me about your art-making…

I call myself a storyteller because I feel that that encapsulates everything, being: a burlesque performer, a curator, a producer, an actor, writer of plays. 

I am fascinated by burlesque, how did you start?

It was a bit of a stumble, to be honest.

I grew up in a very religious household, in a very small neighborhood that wasn’t very diverse. My parents were very strict and religious, and I discovered Josephine Baker almost accidentally. I was a weird kid who hang out in libraries a lot and read books a lot… so I accidentally found one of her books, a biography of her life. It was a lightbulb moment. It just blew my mind open!

It never occurred to me up until that point, as a young woman - a teenager - I hadn’t considered the possibility that you could be a woman and misbehave on purpose, that you could be unruly on purpose. I certainly didn’t think that a woman could do that! 

Discovering her was a life-changing moment, I didn’t know what burlesque was, nor that you could dance naked on a stage. She was so shocking to me and, when I discovered that, I held onto it like a gold nugget all through my teenage hood and

I tried to dream up what my life could look like if I was brave enough to say no to my parents… If I was brave enough to leave the small town that I grew up in… If I was brave enough to go to the big city… If I was brave enough to leave the church… Then I could be a writer, an actor, a burlesque performer like Josephine Baker.

Eventually, that’s what I did! And it was terrifying and really scary and a really big leap of faith. But you know, I’m also a survivor of sexual violence and sexual trauma - and they say there are no coincidences - so discovering her also gave me permission to reclaim my body and sexuality, to feel empowered in my body and sexuality, and then offer it to women and femmes. It saved my life in a lot of ways, so I’m really thankful that that’s what I accidentally stumbled upon at the library that day.

What was the first step that you took in that new direction of your life?

I went to George Brown College for an introduction to “Performing Arts” when I came to Toronto, and in a way that was the first step because it taught me about theatre: up until then I knew nothing! So learning about Shakespeare and theatre taught me first of all what it means to be vulnerable on stage.

The early 2000s were a very weird and wonderful time, a lot of independent shows were produced back then. I was in my twenties and it was truly a special time when I was also figuring out how to be a working creative: I wanted to be a writer, I wanted to act and I knew I wanted to dance and be a performer. A lot of my friends were doing drag shows, sometimes I would be asked to be the “sexy girl” in the drag king act. I found that to be really offensive! I didn’t want to be a prop to someone else’s masculinity, even if it was a performance of masculinity. Because Toni Morrison, Eartha Kitt, and Josephine Baker were all idols of mine, that I grew up admiring so much, it kind of gave me the strength to say no to other people and then to say yes to myself. “I’m just gonna try and figure out what it means to be a showgirl on stage”, I said to myself. 

You know, I did a lot of mistakes, a lot of shimming and shaking to say, but I really was learning as I was doing it. I read books, I went to the library, I watched a lot of youtube clips, and I just learned how to be a showgirl… it was a very slow process, during which I asked a lot of questions - most of them dumb. So I started performing on my own, then also with other people, until I started my own burlesque troupe in 2010. 

I really wanted a burlesque where women and femmes were empowered in their bodies and where we weren’t creating for the male gaze. I mean, we weren’t even performing for a women’s gaze - rather we were performing for ourselves and it was the audience’s privilege that they got to watch us. I thought this would be really important for black women, women of color, trans and non-binary to know that we’re powerful with clothes on or off.

I’m really obsessed with what it means for a woman to misbehave on purpose. What does it mean to go against the grain? 

Since being very young I remember reading a book by Erica Jong - I don’t know if you know who she is. Erica Jong was an interesting writer back in the 80s, a Jewish woman in New York who wrote all these scandalous sexy books (FYI: Fear of Flying, her most famous). The idea stayed with me: to be a sexual and free woman. 

So much of burlesque, and the performing arts in general, is about henning it up for the audience. Therefore, it was important for me as a survivor of sexual violence, for all black women and women of color, for allies, and for trans women that we winked at ourselves and each other first. You’ve got to give yourself a kind of freedom and liberation to have fun! 

And so the gaze goes inward… 

Yes, what if we were in on the joke? Because there’s this whole idea that a woman who’s half naked on stage isn’t very smart, or perhaps she didn’t have other options to consider. I don’t believe that for a second!

I think Josephine Baker knew what she was doing. Likewise, I think Marilyn Monroe knew what she was doing. Women can be their full selves unapologetically. A big part of our lives is spent explaining ourselves, apologising for ourselves to our partners, to our parents, to our family, and to our community. I want different for us. I think a woman who is in pasties is actually smart because you need to win over the audience before you take anything off - which takes a lot of strength, cunning, self-confidence, self-belief, and manipulation. It takes glamor, guts, and grit and I love that for us!

I love that for women and I want that to keep happening for us because that soft-stubbornness, soft-strength, makes you go to that employee review with your boss and say, ‘I do deserve a raise, actually.’ That sort of self-belief helps you to walk away from relationships that are bad and partners that tell you you’re not pretty or that you’re not very good. I think burlesque does that because it gets a lot of strength to get up on that stage, you’ve got to really believe in yourself and what you’re doing because those people are usually drunk - as it’s on a Friday night - most of them are couples on a date-night if you can win over the wife before you win over the husband… you are golden. Sometimes it’s about looking at her, sharing a wink or a joke, saying we both understand that feminine rage, we both know what it means to survive under white supremacy or under patriarchy for women. So let’s be in this together and then your husband is invited in. 

I’m interested in knowing more about what you mean when you say, going against the grain or being a bad girl on purpose… I wonder whether those adjectives are but someone else’s idea of what a good woman is or should be that has been positioned onto our heads. What if being “bad” in the eyes of society means being our most “gooddest” selves? How many women must go against the grain - unbeknownst to the world - until the grain is straightened? 

Yes, those are descriptors and adjectives placed on women’s bodies because I really think people want women to behave. Nobody wants women to misbehave. Every time that women misbehave, historically something happens culturally and societally: like women get the vote! 

If we’re free, things will happen. So people prefer when we’re not free. 

This is why I always think of feminine rage as a divine thing. I consider our rage holy, rather than a shameful thing. When people talk about feminine rage, people talk about women who are hysterical and crazy… I say, what if she’s not? OR what if she is and it’s absolutely fine. Maybe she’s crazy for a reason. When you read the story of Medusa in Greek Mythology, she had every right to be a monster and turn all those heroes into stone because her story is quite tragic. 

Societally speaking, when women misbehave a lot of things happen and people are quite uncomfortable around that. And that’s because nobody likes being uncomfortable! Nobody likes change. A group of women who misbehave will make things very uncomfortable.

So I encourage women to misbehave or, at the very least, ask questions. I was always that annoying kid in class who had so many questions, but “why” is one of my favorite words. I want to keep asking why. Why of ourselves and why of the world around us. I’m not sure it’s a good thing to accept the world in which we’re given, especially if we live in a world that doesn’t really like us we need to keep questioning it at the very least if not pushing back and resisting it. 

There is something about the unconventional woman that really upsets people as well. Burlesque is part of that as it’s not a path that a good woman takes, and I’m interested in questioning what makes a good woman.

Yes, tell me….

Who gets to define that? Who makes that definition? In a judeo-christian way, a good woman isn’t a burlesque performer, she’s not a performer, she does not take her clothes off on stage. What I find interesting is that so many women found freedom and liberation by going against the grain, or by breaking the rules, or being not the traditionally/conventionally good woman. You don’t get your freedom by following the rules, and you don’t get your freedom by not asking questions. 

I never would’ve found more freedom in my body and in my selfhood if I hadn’t started performing burlesque, or if I hadn’t started my burlesque troupe. I found those things because I dared to imagine that I was beautiful in the body that I live in. You know, whenever I host a burlesque show I always, at some point on stage, say ‘You know if you’re there somewhere, and you’re about to have that second or third slice of pizza, or second slice of cake, and someone says something to you, I encourage you to eat that cake and then eat that person!’

One of the things I love about what I do is that I keep finding new versions of myself in this art form. Our journey into ourselves is one of the most holy and righteous things we can do. Keep on loving yourself and keep on getting free, because I don’t think you get free just once. You get free over and over again. And most of the time it’s because you keep saying no to other people and keep saying yes to yourself. For me, burlesque is a tool to be able to do that.

How did your family take your decisions?

They did not take it very well, my dad is a pastor. The religion I was raised on was quite religious: Hebrew-pentecostal. I think my parents were shocked. They also had no idea where I came up with that because the world I grew up with was so sheltered. But I sort of came out like “The girls up & lipstick on, I’m here and I’m gonna be a performer.” 

I think in a way I kind of had no mercy on them because I understood they would not have mercy on me, in terms of the traditions and the conventions and being a good black woman: all the things they were going to place on me out of love and out of fear and wanting me to be safe in the world. I had to be really bold and unafraid, and say I’m gonna do this thing. 

My mom slowly came around, she even came to one of my shows. My sister brought her, and she stayed for the entire show too, and surprisingly really enjoyed it. But the most surprising thing was finding out I wasn’t even her favorite showgirl. She told me she didn’t realise I was so funny and I could dance. Occasionally she would buy me a costume piece, ‘I found this bra I think you would like.’ It’s her cute way of supporting me, yet I’m sure she still wants me to get married.

This is not what she would’ve chosen for me but she still says, “You’re good, you’re doing something very different and you seem to be doing it well.”

My dad on the other hand is just like, “Let’s not ever talk about this!” He knows I’m a performer but he never mentions it, if he asks about it he refers to it as “the other things”, how’s the other thing going? 

In no way I was encouraged by my parents to be a performer, they were shocked when I decided to be an artist at all - much less a performer.

… Ah, the power and danger of ideas … once seeded in a fertile mind …

Yes, it is the power and danger of ideas. It’s reading a book and deciding I can do that too. I watched Eartha Kitt as Catwoman, in the old Batman, and I thought, OK so there are possibilities of how I can exist in this world because others have done it before me. I want us to have more audacity in the dreams for ourselves and sometimes it just takes a spark, a seed, or an idea for you to say, What if I can do this thing that no one is encouraging me to do? What if I tried it anyway? What if I didn’t fail? And what if I was actually good? 

You obviously have so much inner strength and courage, or else you wouldn’t have followed your own path going against your family. I’ve interviewed other women who took decisions their parents didn’t support… until the day they eventually recognized that their daughter is making it and she’s not a monster, she’s not wasting her life… Still, I think it’s hard, between the time you leave and the time your parents come around (if they ever do, not all are lucky).
I’m sure there are moments of doubt and questioning all the decisions you’ve made, so I’d like to know… how do you live through and overcome those tough moments when you may miss the nest?

Definitely. I had plenty of doubts, I still have doubts. I had so much fear. Sometimes it felt like a mountain I could never climb. The fear was like this ocean rising in my throat, at times. I really had no blueprint for how I was gonna live this life that I was dreaming up for myself. I knew that other women had done it before me but I had no mentor or someone holding my hand cheering me on, You can do it! You can make this thing happen!

I’ve spent a lot of time in fear and doubt. I’ve cried myself to sleep many nights, thinking ‘This is ridiculous, what was I thinking? This is crazy!’ I’ve wondered what a safe life looks like, if I had taken the “safe path”, what does that look like? Is it 2.5 kids? Is it a dog and a white picket fence? Would I be safer? … Probably. I probably would’ve been safer had I married a nice person and settled down, there would be no leaps of faith though, right? But I would be much safer in my life than in my journey. 

I think choosing your own life requires you to bet on yourself. And sometimes you gotta bet on yourself more than once.

Sometimes the plan falls apart and things fall through: you don’t get that booking or that gig, or that writing contract ends. You have no idea how you gonna pay rent and I’ve had so many nights when I had to wrestle with my own fear and my own worry, Can I carve out this life for myself that I dreamed on? 

Faith, in those moments, becomes a muscle that gets stronger remembering to have faith in yourself and in your life. It means becoming your own cheerleader. I definitely had to breathe through a panic attack before going on stage and say, ‘OK Dainty you’re really scared, remember the choreography. This is gonna be a nightmare, a complete disaster. There’s a room full of people that are gonna watch you fail, or that are not gonna get the idea in your head.’ And at that moment, all that I can do is dig deeper. Whenever fear keeps me up at night, ‘ How am I gonna pay rent? Am I really gonna be ok? Why didn’t I marry a nice man like my mother told me to?’, I dig deeper. Or that moment of anxiety before I go on stage, where I can’t even remember my own name, I can’t do this, I should’ve been a dentist… I dig deeper. I have all this panic and fear so I take a breath and say, OK let’s try it anyway. Sometimes I’m taking that breath through tears, sometimes I need to reapply my lipstick. I think it’s ok.

So much of this journey has been about me betting on myself. Me finding faith in moments of great fear and great doubt. So much has been me learning how to trust myself. And I’m really thankful for that in spite of everything. 

I definitely had people second-guess me to my face, and what I learned is, if I have the strength in myself to believe in myself then I don’t have to prove it to anyone else. So in those moments what I say is, I think I can do it, and if you don’t believe in it that’s ok. I do.

I’m very thankful for this path that I’ve carved out for myself. I definitely think it would’ve been easier. It would’ve been nice to be born into a rich family, anyway can be an artist when you’re rich! Nonetheless, I’m still thankful for taking that leap of faith and choosing to be a storyteller and a burlesque performer. I’m thankful for what it gave me because it really gave me myself. It gave me the willingness to do and try and that might be more important than if it’s perfect. What’s important is believing in myself; believing in the kind of work I wanna see in the world; believing in the kind of representation I wanna see for women and femmes. 

I believe in my willingness to do and I believe in my willingness to try. 

Thank you for your candor. I definitely can relate, and still wonder if it will get easy and if will I get to a point when I feel safe… 

I want safety for myself. I want safety for women and for femmes and for vulnerable people. I want safety for us so much it makes me angry that we have to have a conversation about how we’re not safe. 

How do you perceive safety? What is to be safe for you?

That is something I think about often, how does a woman feel safe in this world? How does she feel safe in her family and relationships? I want us to have financial stability, financial independence, and richness. I want us to know that yes and no are the two most powerful words in our vocabulary. I want us to know that saying yes to ourselves means more than saying yes to other people. I want us to have the homes and the apartments that we dream of. I think all of those things are versions of safety. 

I want us to walk home late at night and not think that anything is gonna happen to us. That means us taking care of each other, and it also means that the world needs to change. The world needs to become safer for women to live in it, even if we need to be the ones actively changing it. If those in power don’t want to change how the system works, then we have to do it. 

I want us to be safe in our jobs and workplaces. To know that if we speak up about something, there won’t be any punishment. So much of that means that means intersectional feminism; so much of that means community; so much of that means that we keep questioning ourselves and each other even when it’s uncomfortable; so much of that means we protect and take care of each other.

And those things are important when we don’t get along. Because people think community matters when everything is fine, and feminism matters when everything is fine… I think community and feminism matter when things are not fine. How do you respect or take care of another woman that you can’t stand?? When another woman betrayed you or harmed you, how do you still hold on to the beliefs and the values that you have where you believe that another woman should be safe in the world? That she should be able to pay her rent, be well, and go on vacation, even if you never talk to each other again. 

Safety means women standing up and speaking up for each other. It means me standing up for transwomen, and for women who are sex workers, and for women I don’t like. It means asking myself uncomfortable questions, Why is this woman bothering me? Why don’t I like her? 

Yes! Even if you don’t like that woman, she still deserves everything that you’re asking for yourself. 

Exactly. Freedom and safety, to me, involve a lot of those things. And also it’s constant work. You’re not going to change a system that has been perfectly set in place for hundreds of years overnight. But you can still make radical changes, significant changes. 

And the way to do that good and hard lovely work is first with yourself and then within your community and then in your small corner of the world. And just by doing that, the ripple effect can be a tidal wave of joyful rebellion that ripple outwards, much further than you can imagine.

SOME CONCLUSIVE THOUGHTS….
The conversation with Dainty filled me with so much strength. In the weeks that followed bits of this conversation came back to me. Especially the part about misbehaving on purpose… I feel we’re all conditioned to “behave”, that is to follow someone else’s rules of conduct. So I felt cheeky choosing to misbehave in one particular aspect of my life last week, and choosing it made all the difference as my whole being was already in revolt. I gained peace.

Something else came up to me as I re-read the interview regards freedom. I wonder if through her, through buying a bra for her daughter… Dainty’s mom is, in some way, allowing herself some thoughts of liberation. As if, with the act of buying a bra for her daughter’s performances, she acknowledges to like something maybe a little over the top, that she cannot wear, yet she - her daughter - can, and if she wears it … it’s like the two share a secret wink. And perhaps that’s enough, we don’t need to go on a crusade to try to change the lives of the people we love… I believe in trusting that if it is for them, a window may open and a new relationship dynamic may be formed. And maybe, however small, almost imperceptible, it is enough. And by millions of those imperceptible changes…. in 50 years we can wake up in a different world.