photo by Sal Romano
This morning I looked at some of the latest designs of my favorite bellydance costume designers and then I looked at my own collection to see if there was anything I felt ready to sell. There wasn’t. This got me thinking about a line I heard in the documentary, The Bellydancers of Cairo. One of the dancers commented on how much money needs to be re-invested back into the dance and this is something most non-dancers don’t consider. Having just done my taxes and nearly choked upon seeing the total I spent on music, accessories, my own dance training, photo shoots, props, costumes, etc… it is, indeed, a very expensive job to be a bellydancer.
Back when I worked in an office environment, like most people, I had a different outfit every day of the week. I could probably go two weeks without recycling too many of the same clothes. With a good selection of slacks and blouses, sweater sets, and skirts, I could mix and match them to create different looks. It would have felt strange to wear the exact same outfit more than once in the same week, and on those occasions when I needed to do public speaking, having the right outfit helped me feel confident in front of large groups of people.
Well, it’s the same for my bellydance life. I don’t like to put on the same costume over and over because it will start to affect my performance. As a natural introvert, it helps to feel spectacular to face a large crowd. It’s worth mentioning that I might perform 3 or 4 shows in a week-end so by the time Monday rolls around, I’ve worn nearly half of my collection. When a new (or pre-owned and, therefore, new to me), costume arrives – it elevates my performance value because I can’t wait to dance in it. After perfroming in it 20 or more times, a sentimental attachment begins to take the place of a thrill to dance in it. That is the other drawback of owning costumes. I have so many fond memories attached to each one that it is hard to let some of them go.
This particular dancer in the documentary said she invests about 70% of her dance income back into her shows. Is there another profession on the planet that has this kind of ratio? Are we all nuts? This past year, I invested about 35% of my dance income back into my career but I sometimes long for the days when a quick trip to the Banana Republic sale rack afforded me 3 days worth of clothing. As happy as I am to fill my days with dance, it sure comes with a price tag.
As for the sentimental attachment to costumes, I’ve had the good fortune to sell to my students which is a nice way to part with them. One student just purchased the set I wore the first time I performed a solo with live music (and she made her live music debut in it). Another student bought the beautiful white costume I wore to dance at my wedding. A third student is about to make her solo debut in a lovely Pharonics bra/belt set that I enjoyed for years. It does help to “keep them in the family.” I must admit, I didn’t have a problem donating my business casual attire to Good Will. There is something about sparkles and flowing fabric that pulls on the heart strings more than houndstooth and gingham.
These are photos of two of my new(ish) costumes. Photographer Sal Romano did a beautiful job capturing the joy I felt debuting my latest costume. I was thrilled to break in this beauty at Grisly Pear a couple of months ago. I wonder which lucky student will call it their own some day. Photographer Hector Pachas gave me some beautiful photos in the teal Bella from my Bi-Annual Evening of Bellydance.
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photo by Hector Pachas
Tava's Bellydance Blog 
one time i bought something from Serena’s closet. I mentioned that I had to hide it from my husband because he complained about the amount of money i spent on bellydance gear. Serena replied, “Tell your husband this is the least expensive hobby anyone could have”. That was true until i went pro, and like you spend a fortune. but….so do musicians and photographers. art cost a lot to make. that is why we are “starving”. Regular job=regular cost, fantasy job=fantasmical cost.
I completely agree, and I love that story about hiding purchases from your husband (which I can relate to…ssshhhh). And you’re right, the arts still place value on that “starving” aspect. I think there is often some kind of disdain for artists and musicans who become succesful, as if they’ve sold out and traded passion for a paycheck. In order to pay those “fantasmical costs,” we just keep on working because we love it and we can’t stop until our bodies make us stop. Thanks for your comment!
That’s one thing in favor for tribal. Those outfits are way cheaper than those Bellas and Eman Zaki outfits. A few cholis, a few skirts, a turban, etc. and you’re pretty much done. This is my only hobby at this point and it’s a harmless hobby. I get to meet nice ladies, listen and dance to cool music, learn discipline, get exercise, all at the same time.
Right you are Kathy! Tribal is a beautiful dance without all the high end sparkles ; ) I would go that route myself if I weren’t so terminally cabaret!