Fear of a Bedlah Planet, Part III: It Begins In Lies That Are Wrapped in Mystery.

This'll be brief. Years ago, I got a wonderful little dance mag out of Florida, that was amazingly full of excellent and well-researched articles on the dance; sort of a thinned-down and refocused ARABESQUE, for those who recall that mag. One article I recall well was on the Mata Hari costume:

Which always sort of impressed me, even though I'm not overmuch a fan of Art Deco, or that style. The book even had patterns for the author's interpretation of the hip wrap Hari wears, which was impressive.
And, of course, I've often hear the idea that the Hari outfit is the primary source for the look of bedlah. I personally don't know how true that is, but it's a thought that, to my angry "History First!" mind, makes some sense. Of course the clothing de jour of "belly dance" is swiped from someone who dealt in lies and secrecy...
But like many a dancer I know, I can't help but admire the style, while declaiming the circumstances and underlying perceptions that live with us to this day. So when I see this latest revision of the Hari outfit by Sarah Skinner:

(h/t to The ShanMonster )

I'm IMPRESSED. Active exploration of our antecedents, digging into the past of the form, bringing those ideas and styles forward -- that's amazing work, and if you're looking for a way to differentiate yourself from the crowd (and you shoudl be!), that's one ill-traveled path. It's something few are doing, and yet has so many points that can and would appeal to a modern audience.
And there's points where it could even be melded into more modern interpretations. I mean, imagine melding that outfit's structure and glamor with Tribal-style NeoRaqs's* strength and boldness of color!

There are always more ideas. :)


* I'm playing around with a new set of terms for our form, 'cause I have not having a solid, useful umbrella term. I'm leaning towards everything from Casino Opera forward being NeoRaqs, and that makes writing something like "Tribal" much less like a lead weight on my conscious, when it's got it's own context.