Crazy Horse experience

Back when I was a teenager I remember having a long discussion with one of my best friends about why I would refuse to join him to watch a cabaret show even if he paid my trip to Paris to see the Lido girls. Well, my dear friend, my thoughts were with you last night, when I marched down the dark red-carpeted stairs adorned with spot-lights, holding on to the gilt railing, stopping to take a photo of my reflection in the huge mirror embedded in velvet-covered walls.

Hubby and I had been invited to the Crazy Horse, Paris' cabaret known for its stage shows performed by nude female dancers. The expectations were non-exsistant. I had not managed to get a straight answer out of any of my friends who had seen the show, therefore I thought: just bring it on, baby!

Photography was banned in the black and red decorated theatre but I can disclose that the decoration was done just the right side of seedy. The show opened with all ten dancers identically dressed in remnants of The Queens Guard uniform, and I mean remnants!

Honestly, I found the show to be neither glamorous nor erotic, not even captivating. Then again maybe it was that exorbitantly expensive glass of champagne that had me dozing after the first half?

Frankly, the whole thing was underwhelming with so-called photographers running around all the time trying to squeeze more money out of you (50 Euros for 2 pictures on a CD!!!).

Therefore, I can happily check the cabaret show off my list and conclude that it's more about the experience of going than the show itself. I just wished my friend had been with me. He would have enjoyed it for what it is: entertainment performed by some stunning dancers!