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I seem to recall a lot of criticism of the 'difference between cute and sexy' sort. For a staged production, we actually did have jazz hands. It involved a lineup (alternately, all women, then all men, and one night only, men and women, because it was gent's night at a lesbian-heavy club) in spangly sparkly things swapping clothes, undressing and dressing each other while making like Ethel Merman to unlicensed Kay Starr tracks. I blame Jess Franco.
I learned you have to be really picky to be on the controlling side of porn. And not care about how great the cut of a blouse is or the historical accuracy of nylons. |
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