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It’s a scene out of Botticelli’s Birth of Venus—if the goddess in the shell were supplanted by a 1940s screen star as interpreted by a present-day burlesque queen. That is how Dita Von Teese first takes the stage in Night of the Teese, her immersive filmed showcase that streams for three days beginning October 1. As a mist rises slowly over an enormous bronze clamshell, the striptease artist holds court in a two-piece armature of Swarovski crystals, languidly swaying to a tune called “Sleepy Lagoon.” The camera swoops low near the bivalve’s bottom edge, taking in a balletic leg extension bathed in amber light. Off comes a capelet, followed by a jeweled bra, revealing a daintier number underneath. Von Teese moves like satin through air, giving the impression of a time warp to another era—while also raising the question about her own mortal coil. (With a birthday this week, she is now an ageless 49.) Her physique invites wonder. Is this God? Is this man? Should I someday make an appointment with this man? All the while, as she tosses a wingspan-size, pearly white balloon in the air, Von Teese remains coolly in control: aware of, but not catering to, the audience on the other side of the screen. Then, as if to signal the curtain: Pop! goes the balloon.
“What does it feel like if you get to walk around the stage? What does it feel like to be so close you can see all the details?” Von Teese says by phone from Paris, explaining how she and director Quinn Wilson, together with production by Driift, approached the unconventional filming for this multi-performer event. This is hardly a static, dropped-camera recording of a theater show. Because there are no spectators—save for Von Teese herself with opera glasses, seen watching her friends’ acts from a house seat, in between her own stylized stripteases in a birdcage and champagne coupe—the camera has free rein. Everything is possible, from unobstructed wide-angle views to mesmerizing close-ups to a voyeuristic tour through backstage.
Wilson, who began her career as Lizzo’s makeup artist before overseeing the musician’s creative direction, has become a singular voice in the music-video space, with projects for the likes of Ziwe and King Princess. The world of glittering pasties was a new avenue for the director, but “I loved Quinn’s enthusiasm for burlesque,” says Von Teese, who recognized Wilson’s sense of humor and palpable respect for the artists in her work. “She has the fantasy feeling, and I love that she loves all the same performers”—a mix here that includes the tassel-twirling Dirty Martini, Marawa with her many hula hoops, Frankie Fictitious, Vontourage, Jett Adore, and Perle Noire with her homage to predecessors like Josephine Baker. (The constraints of production and travel during the pandemic inherently narrowed the scope, so “we couldn’t have all the performers, all the representation that I wanted to have,” adds Von Teese. “I just keep hoping we can do a series together like this because there are so many stones left unturned.”)
For Von Teese, a woman whose self-presentation is so immaculately executed, it makes sense that she waited until such a moment to make her onscreen debut. (It’s not the only one: She is in Paris for the upcoming French version of Dancing with the Stars, with Jean-Paul Gaultier among the judges; as we talk, Christian Louboutin gives her a ring. “I’ll call him back. We’re fretting over my ballroom dance shoes because they’re so ugly!”) The three-day runtime for Night of the Teese carries with it the sense of a happening, though Von Teese has to correct herself when she calls it a livestream. ”It’s a streaming event,” she says of the 45-minute film. (There’s also a bonus Dita beauty tutorial, along with a tassel-twirling lesson by Dirty Martini.) But there’s truth in the slip, in how convincingly in-the-moment it all feels, how visceral and true to life. The same goes for Von Teese in conversation, below, talking about her dressed-down pandemic mode, a revelatory beauty find, and the taboos—about aging and aesthetic tweaks—she’s happy to leave behind.
Vanity Fair: With this special and Dancing with the Stars in mind*,* what is your background in dance?
Dita Von Teese: My dance background is that of a very mediocre ballet dancer. I danced ballet since I was five years old—always loved it. I dreamed of being a ballerina, but I was always the flower in The Nutcracker in the back because I can’t remember choreography. I have really good carriage and all these things that are hallmarks of being a good dancer, but I just wasn’t cut out for it. But if I had been a successful ballet dancer, I wouldn’t have thought about doing striptease. So it’s a total lemons into lemonade.
When was the first time you got back onstage after the pandemic set in?
This special is exactly that! Actually, that’s not true: I made an appearance in the upcoming Harry Styles and Olivia Wilde movie, Don’t Worry Darling. I filmed that last November.
That’s fun. How did you get hooked into that project?
Well, [costume designer] Arianne Phillips is involved with that film and—I don’t want to say too much about what I’m doing in it—but it just fit in so perfectly. They said they had to have me. It couldn’t be somebody else. So it was really fun and exciting, but also daunting after not performing. In a lot of ways, every time I don’t perform for very long, I’m sure that I can never do it again. It’s a strange thing: The only time I ever get any kind of version of stage fright is feeling rusty—like, “I don't remember what to do.” And then, of course, the lights come on and the curtains open and it’s like being on a roller coaster. There’s that excitement, and at the end I go, “Was that okay?” I was okay. I’m not overly confident.
That’s entirely relatable, but also interesting to hear it come from you—because you’ve created this whole world that feels so self-empowered.
I like having a good dose of self-doubt, or “I can probably do better than that. That wasn’t my best.” I’m sure you’ve talked to a lot of artists of all types; I’ve sat next to a huge movie star that’s like, “I can’t watch my movies. I think I’m terrible.” I’m the same way. I have to force myself to watch myself on video, to critique myself. I do not have that thing in me that’s like, “I’m going to watch how amazing I am.” I just don’t. It’s brutal for me.
I have confidence; I do sit there sometimes and I go, “Okay, yeah. You’re the best in the world at doing this thing that you do, so you can do this.” It’s more of those pep talks, if that makes sense. I’ve just never been one of those people that things come naturally to, and the things that look like they come naturally to me, they don’t—they’re just well practiced. I’ve never been good at any sports, I can’t really sing, I’m very mediocre across the board. I’m even a mediocre-looking person without the drama of glamour and hair and makeup and eyelashes. It’s just true! But that’s okay. It makes me actually feel more proud of what I’ve created, rather than what was given to me by God or whatever. Because I accomplished something by not being naturally gifted at anything, really, except for having good taste. But maybe that’s learned too.
It's more interesting as an observer too—because the people that things come to naturally sometimes come across as just too shiny, too slick.
Honestly, I was trying to explain this to somebody. One time Spotify analyzed my music listening, and they were like, “[Why do you] only listen to three female vocalists?” And I was like, “You know what? I really hate vocal gymnastics.” I really can't listen to it. I loved Amy Winehouse, and also I knew Amy Winehouse, and she definitely had that fragile quality. It just comes out in her. I feel like I have these invisible heartstrings attached to other people like that. I love people that are individuals, and it’s not just a glossy, sexy, pretty [person] singing, “Look at me, I’m pretty and singing.”
I sense that you, more than most people, didn’t settle into the sweatpants lifestyle of the past year and a half. What was your version of lower-key living?
I did really let go! I remember having a call with my friend who just passed away, Ilona Royce Smithkin. She was one of those Advanced Style ladies. We would always talk on the phone from time to time. I will take advice from older ladies any time they’ll give it to me. She said to me right at the beginning of the pandemic, “You’ve worked your whole life; you’ve been traveling. Why don’t you give yourself a rest?" All these people were talking about doing online shows and shows from Instagram, and I just felt like, I’m just going to rest and take care of my mental health. Because there were a lot of things I wanted to do, like get better at mediation, and stuff that is not fun in show business, like taxes and paperwork and insurance—all that stuff that’s not covered in rhinestones. So I had my little jumpsuit onesies. I let my roots grow out, which are dishwater blonde with quite a bit of white, which I’m excited about having at one point. I didn't wear makeup. I discovered this lash system called Lashify, which I became obsessed with—being my own lash-extension tech. My skin was glowing, and I just started learning how to do my own lashes, so that kind of gave me some confidence around the house.
Did you have reservations about taking your show to a streaming platform?
I don’t know about you, but I watched people that I admire, that are very talented, do their show from home on television—and, wow, without all the right show business and lights and audience energy, it kind of falls flat. I was watching world-famous people doing that, and I thought, “I don’t want to dim my luster in this moment.” I was just afraid of making any missteps. That was the great thing about this, and what Quinn’s vision was: What it would feel like to be onstage with each of the performers?
I also like that we see you watching the show, when the voyeurism usually happens in the other direction.
That is the reality of it too. When I’m backstage on a real tour, I almost always have a monitor where I can watch, and it’s one of the things I love. I get goosebumps when I can feel the whole building rumble because Dirty Martini’s onstage or Perle Noir is killing it. At this stage in my life, I’m so happy that I get to be able to produce shows that present other kinds of performers.
That’s my real mission now. I’m not trying to feel like the star. I love being in the room, but I love changing people’s minds about what a burlesque show is and doing that with performers that maybe people don't see as the pinup girl. And people are always surprised that it’s not a girly show. In my tour I have just as many men taking their clothes off as women.
I’m so grateful that I’ve been able to have my career evolve in this way that I’ve experienced the arc of what it’s like to be a burlesque star in the ’90s, when I was doing all these big Playboy parties and it was mostly beneath the male gaze, to watching how things shifted so much in the last 15 to 20 years as it became this aspirational place for inclusivity and diversity.
And, of course, I’m 49 years old this month, and it would have been unheard of during the ’40s or ’50s to [still be performing]. I really feel lucky that it’s different now.
Tell me about the video extras.
My favorite part was when Dirty Martini gave me a tassel-twirling lesson. I don't twirl tassels, but Dirty Martini is the expert world-famous tassel twirler. One of the last shows that I did was in January 2020, when I produced a small burlesque show on a rave cruise. I'm like, “Okay, what am I going to do to completely blow the minds of these ravers on this cruise who have never seen anything like this?” I brought Dirty Martini with me, and, I was watching from backstage and could see only her silhouette in front of 5,000 partygoers—to be honest, probably most of them on psychedelics. And she was twirling the tassels and I could just see her silhouette running back and forth in front of the stage to techno music, and the crowd went bonkers. The rest of the trip she never had to pay for another drink, ever. She was just legendary. If one more person asks me why I don't retire because I'm getting older, that’s why.
There’s such a history of performers with real longevity: Baryshnikov, Pina Bausch. As we're talking about inclusivity, it should be age-inclusive as well.
I think we’re finally getting over that thing, right? But still not. [In interviews] they all ask me what I’m going to do, and I say, “Listen, if I played the piano, am I going to quit the piano because I’m [older]?” I could get arthritis—but I don’t want to hear anymore what are you going to do. There will come a time where I can’t do that job anymore, but I don’t know why they have to scare women about age.
People told me to worry about being 30 when I was 22. It’s exhausting, and it’s especially something in the burlesque world. But I’ve actually been looking for the quintessential really hot silver fox guy to do a striptease. I know there has got to be somebody out there that hasn’t done striptease that is the perfect person to create the show of my dreams.
What are the pared-down beauty essentials you’ve brought to Paris? I imagine you're always finding a better version of the things that you use.
It’s always the same thing—like red lipstick. I’m always thinking, “Maybe there’s going to be one that will change my life.” I don't want to sound like an ad campaign, but literally these lash things changed my life. That was the first beauty innovation where I went, whoa. I’ve been wearing strip lashes or lash extensions for my whole life, and suddenly this invention came along. I was so enthusiastic, I reached out to the company and was like, “Can I just work for you guys however? I don’t care.”
What do you love about it?
Especially during the pandemic, I didn't want to always draw my quintessential cat eye. I love how I look with a heavy, dark lid and long lashes, but I didn't want to wear makeup. [But with the lashes] I was able to learn how to create my cat eye without eyeliner, and I wear them for like three or four days. I can do my video calls, and all I have to do is put a little bit of lipstick on and I have the look people know me for. I don’t have to sit there and draw my eyeliner, put on mascara, put on strip lashes, and then, boom, there she is. Now I just wake up like that! And I love it.
Are there any other things that you are drawn to?
I'm pretty devoted to this base makeup, which is not easy to find, apparently. It's called Suqqu. Have you heard of it? It's Japanese, and I discovered that from Danilo, the hairdresser. It looks like skin but it has great coverage, and that's my can’t-live-without base makeup.
Retrouvé skin care has changed my life. Super luxury. Sometimes I even feel bad talking about it! Ultra, ultra luxury, but wow. As someone who has dry skin, I love having that dewy, moist feeling. Nothing is a miracle in a jar, but when I run out of the eye cream, I’m like, “SOS.”
I feel like you also must have a really great sunscreen.
It's funny that you say that because I don’t feel like I have one right now that I’m really that into. The thing about sunscreen is if it’s not pleasurable, you’re not going to do it, right? If it doesn’t smell good or feel good, if the texture’s not right, are you really going to want to put it on every day? My friend Catherine D’Lish, she was like, “Try that La Mer one.” So I've been on the hunt for it. It’s been sold out, so that must be a good sign.
I like Eminence cleansers—they have a Stone Crop cleansing wash that feels very silky and smooth. And just so no one thinks I’m just fancy, I’m looking here at a new lipstick I’ve become a little bit obsessed with, which I got at the drugstore by accident because I forgot my red lipstick one day. It’s Maybelline Superstay Matte Ink, and that's been pretty good for wearing under a mask too. I’m very surprised at what you can get for $6.99!
Timelessness seems to be integral to your aesthetic. Are you open to talking about aesthetic tweaks? Honestly, you're a marvel to look at.
That's nice of you. Yeah, I get Botox and that's really all so far. I've tried a couple of these—what's the word?—microcurrent facials, which seems to be nice, but I'm still on the fence. Every time I see someone who looks amazing, I try to get as much information as I can, and the general consensus is people are like, “Maybe around 52, 53 you can try something a little more aggressive,” and I will. I really hope the time comes when we can liberate people from being ashamed of doing things. We're all afraid to talk about it because it becomes clickbait.
I had my breasts done when I was 22, so that's a long time ago now. I actually kind of wanted to get them redone, but I went to a few doctors and they were like, “If it ain’t broke, don't fix it.” I was like, “But I want to have fancy gummy-bear boobs too—shouldn’t I get something new?” I have spoken about that in the past. Usually when people say, “Is your fill-in-the-blank real?” the answer is, “They’re real good.”
We do have Marc Jacobs, who has been very public about his facelift.
Oh, I love that he's doing that, by the way. That was such a great move. Why not? We interviewed Carmen Dell'Orefice for my beauty book, and I love reading what she wrote. She said, “Listen, if your house falls in, do you fix it?” She’s been having work done to her face since her nose job, when she broke her nose high diving or something. She talks about it openly, and I just thought, “God, that’s what we need more of.”
We all have friends that you’re like, “You know, you might want to reel it in a little bit on the lip injections.” We try to be a good friend about it. You have to have a friend that’s willing to tell you what is too much.
It’s strange that there's this demarcation. Yes, you paint your house. You cut your hair. You tailor your clothes to fit your body. I don’t want to be off-putting to even ask because there are people who don’t want to talk about it. But at the same time, as a woman—
We want to share secrets, right? That should be one of the great things about growing older is that we can share our secrets because we’re not afraid to share and we want to give.
What is your current fitness rhythm like? I know you've had stretches of Pilates and other things.
I think, for me, it’s kind of cause and effect. I don’t exercise just because I want to look good because being thin has never been my problem. I want to feel strong, I want to keep my immune system up, I want to feel flexible. When I'm working out I feel good, and when I'm eating junk I feel bad. I’ve done shows before where I didn’t feel strong enough to carry the weight of the costume, and that makes me go, “Okay, go back to some weight training.” I have friends who have been very sick and can't work out, and I just think, “I am so lucky that I have the choice of doing this.” And I get up and do it.
It’s even to the point where, when I think about wanting to shame my own body in the mirror, I’m going to try to turn that into something positive. Instead of saying I don’t like how my body looks, think about what your body does for you every day. It’s not easy. I’m not any model of super confidence. I think confidence is like the weather. It comes and it goes, and you do your best to try to prepare for it.
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