FELICIA FREESTYLE

What is the story behind your stage name?

Felicia is a nod to The Adventures of Priscilla, Queen of the Desert, a cult Australian film deeply rooted in LGBT culture and closely connected to my family story, as I grew up with two mothers. Freestyle refers to my passion for snowboarding and for freedom of movement in general.

What is your story with dance?

I come from Melbourne, Australia. One of my two mothers enrolled me in dance classes when I was three. She wanted to see her little girl in a tutu, but she could never have imagined it would take me this far! Until the age of sixteen, I trained intensively at a ballet school run by a former principal dancer, with seven hours of classes every Saturday as well as lessons during the week.

After high school, I stopped dancing completely to pursue my studies. Everyone around me worked in corporate jobs, and dance did not seem like a realistic option. I enrolled in two university programs, left both, moved to Canada, and spent time doing things that did not truly suit me. Then one day, I decided to take control of my life again. I had spent some of my best years following what other people expected of me.

At twenty-three, I joined Spectrum Global Arts in Melbourne to begin my professional dance training. After graduating, I was hired by Melbourne’s first cabaret in which the body and nudity were presented artistically. I felt deeply honored to be a pioneer in my own city. Now, I am part of the company launching a Crazy Horse Paris show in Dubai. I could never have imagined a more extraordinary journey.

What does being part of the Crazy Horse Paris company mean to you?

Crazy Horse Paris had been a dream of mine for a long time. People in the dance world often encouraged me to audition. Just as I was completing my dance studies, Melbourne’s first cabaret of this kind opened and hired me. It felt like a sign of destiny.

When I began, however, nudity on stage was not widely accepted in Australia because it was misunderstood. For me, being on stage felt completely natural and incredibly freeing. I could express all my sensuality, pride, femininity, and artistry. It was an extraordinary experience to watch the audience’s perspective change as they discovered the show.

Today, being a dancer at Crazy Horse Paris, the ultimate reference in this art form, feels magical to me. I do not regret changing my life to follow my dreams. I feel incredibly fortunate.

What kind of woman are you when you dance on the Crazy Horse Paris stage?

I feel as though I am in a film! When I step onto the stage, everything else disappears. There is nothing left but the dance and me. I feel my immense energy, ready to burst forth. I no longer notice the details around me, the changes in the music, or the murmurs in the room. I am entirely focused on my presence and on the connection I share with the audience.

What did you discover about yourself when you became a Crazy Horse Paris dancer?

I discovered that my body is exactly as it should be. Throughout my life, I felt self-conscious about certain parts of my body and tried to correct or hide them. Here, I was taught to inhabit them, enhance them, and understand why they are beautiful.

At Crazy Horse Paris, no one tries to correct a woman’s body. The aim is to celebrate and elevate it exactly as it is. That lesson changed me profoundly. It means that we can transform our insecurities into strengths. Everything depends on the way we choose to see ourselves.

What do you want to convey to the audience when you dance on the Crazy Horse Paris stage?

The importance of women in the arts. Dance, cabaret, and performance were among the first professions that allowed women to earn their own living. We are living through a time when women’s rights are being weakened, and cultural funding is increasingly under pressure.

On this stage, I want the audience to recognize everything women contribute to the arts and to leave convinced that we must continue to invest in them.

How would you define femininity?

To me, femininity also includes everything we have been taught to hide in order to conform to a particular idea of what femininity should be. Full eyebrows, greying hair, a changing body simply because it is alive. These details are real, embodied, and feminine.

Femininity is not what we are told to be. It simply is what it is. I regret that this raw authenticity has so often been excluded from it, although I feel that things are beginning to change.

Which female icons inspire you?

Cher, first of all, for her strength and individuality. Then all Old Hollywood, including Rita Hayworth, Jane Russell, and Mitzi Gaynor. One of my mothers owned large photography books devoted to these actresses. Their costumes and sets were made by hand, and hundreds of people worked together to create those spectacular worlds. This was before the digital era.

When I think about what these women represented, I feel that Crazy Horse Paris is the direct heir to that tradition.

Can you tell us about the solo But I’m a Good Girl, which you were entrusted with in The Dubai Edition?

I felt some pressure because But I’m a Good Girl is such an iconic act. I had to channel my energy to achieve the level of precision the act requires, but it is both an honor and a joy to perform a character who is so lively, free, and playful with the audience.

Good Girl is me, only amplified!