Hairy Experience


What a glorious few days! A delightful evening at the last night of All My Sons at the Lyric, Shaftesbury Avenue, thanks to Nica Burns, a woman who is such a boon to the West End theatre scene that she could only be bettered by Westminster Council behaving like civilised human beings over parking restrictions. But that isn’t going to happen, is it? Rhetorical question.

Appropriately for this, our Hairy Issue, for me, David Suchet’s astoundingly compelling performance began with his hair. His entire body language, his rumpled cardi, his guarded eyes and smile that never reached them and his soft-kneed gait spoke volumes about Joe Keller (I could explain but really, you should have gone to see the play!), but so, it seemed to me, did his hair. Balding on top but sprouting unkempt little wisps of thatch as if they were making to escape the inevitable fate of his crown hair, and perfectly imperfect at the sides, the language of trichology spoke loud and clear. As it so often does, indeed – the nervous tuck, the come-on flick, the peek-a-boo curtain, the fuck-me platinum. The acceptance of grey and what it says – distinguished or just old? Confident or just can’t be bothered? However, I digress from my glorious days.

I absolutely adore the basement theatre at the Leicester Square Theatre. Now it is even more wonderful – a sexy little black box (a little like my own…) with scarlet upholstered chairs and its own tiny bar (marvellous New Zealand white, I vaguely remember). I went with a lady friend to see the opening night of Sideshow. Freakery and madness is much, much more entertaining close up and theatre doesn’t get much closer up than this. My review is inside the mag, but take it from me, this is a gloriously appalling way to spend a couple of hours on a Friday night. I fell asleep to torrid dreams of a threesome with two of the acts…I shall offer a prize of a used wax strip full of my pubic hair to the person who goes along to the show and guesses which two…

Talking of appalling, had an evening between the legs of something of a now attached, blast from my past the other night. No idea how it happened…a lot of red wine was involved, I do remember, then it became a little like Erica Jong’s ‘zipless fuck’…but it was marvellous. I shall undoubtedly go straight to Hell. Gosh, I hope they have red wine and oral sex there…

Look out for Erotic Review – The Hair Issue on October 16.

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