Our fair lady

What a glorious Fair Day! Whoever we all pray to, I’m thinking she answered those prayers tenfold. It was my turn once again to jump on the main stage to host from noon to 2pm, and I was like a proverbial pig in shit.

I decided to go for a flowing, swishy number with my biggest hat and some of the most amazing Italian jewellery I could find (given to me, thanks to my very sexy Italian friend Matteo). Gold was my colour of the day so I would shimmer out in the crowd, hoping someone would come and find my hidden treasure. No one did. I was planning on a scorcher, and the day ended up being just that.

I was working down at Castro’s in Wollongong the night before with Candy Box, so the early morning transformation seemed to drag on forever.

I have really no idea why we showgirls try it each year, but with the highest heels we waddle around the park, hoping not to fall into a crack in the footpath or sink too deep into the grass. Usually we stagger home in the wee hours of the morning with sore feet and bum, as the day consists mostly of clenching our toes and praying for dear life not to tumble arse over tit.

During my shift on stage I had a vast spectrum of entertainers: a fabulous singer from Northern NSW, a troupe of Islander dancers (very sexy), our favourite newsreader in the whole entire world, Tracey Spicer, New Mardi Gras chair Marcus Bourget, our lord mayor Clover Moore and, to top it off, the NSW Police Band.

I tried to steal the stage at the end of the Police set with an impromptu Bananarama number but was escorted off by one of the sexiest burly policemen, Robert. As he was pushing my arm behind my back and directing me off stage, I quickly forgot our safe word and just went with the flow, hoping I was going to get a little taste of his pepper spray out the back. Once again I wasn’t that lucky and just left with a handshake and a That was great, mate. Better luck next year, I guess.

Fair Day is still one of my favourite Mardi Gras events, standing on the middle of the main stage looking out to a sea of fabulous smiling faces, all there just to have fun.

Having your voice projected over thousands of people is just crazy. To see gay boys pushing strollers, and lesbian mothers with their own little troop of kids jumping around produces a warm fuzzy feeling that just can’t be bought.

Congratulations, New Mardi Gras, once again you have given us a touchdown.