(Catherine D’lish onstage at Teaseorama, San Francisco, 2007, by Mike Albov)
I’ve spent over two decades watching burlesque happen: on stage and backstage, on tour and online, in dressing rooms, press cycles, late-night conversations, reinventions, arguments, and moments most people never see. I’ve watched acts evolve, scenes fracture and regroup, aesthetics rise and fall, and performers grow into legacies.
I believe - when I began in 2005 and especially right now - that Burlesque needs and deserves to be documented properly as a skilful, breathing, glamorous, subversive, contradictory and fiercely creative culture, not a novelty or a footnote.
On Record is where I bring a curated selection from the 20 year archives of 21st Century Burlesque Magazine: long-form profiles, essays and features I still stand by, alongside new highlights yet to be published.
I also use this space to add some editorial framing when it feels useful: a note on context, a shift in perspective, a reminder of what was happening around the work at the time. Not to over-explain, but to situate the writing properly and let it breathe outside the churn of social media.
I hope to share my passion for Burlesque here with you, whether you’re part of the scene, adjacent to it, or encountering this world seriously for the first time.
What you’ll find here
Selected long-form profiles and essays from 21st Century Burlesque
Writing that looks closely at performers, acts, aesthetics, and careers
Editorial context around why certain pieces still matter
Cultural and historical perspective on how Neo Burlesque has evolved
Occasional standalone writing that belongs on record, not in a feed
Most posts here are free to read. I publish selectively when something feels worth placing publicly, rather than to meet a schedule.
Alongside this open layer, I’ve launched a paid tier, The Editor’s Desk
21st Century Burlesque: The Editor’s Desk is where I write more openly about burlesque - how outstanding acts and repertoires are built, why some ideas and personas really land and others don’t, and what actually happens once work is out in the world.
It’s shaped by twenty years of reviewing shows, judging competitions, consulting, and working closely with performers and producers. I share act analysis, marketing and positioning insight, and the kinds of observations you pick up after seeing how performances move through the scene: who gets booked, who gets written about, what sticks, and what quietly disappears.
Alongside practical thinking, I share stories, context, and material that doesn’t quite fit in the magazine: personal memories, unseen material and memorabilia, personal anecdotes, bits of archive, and behind-the-scenes detail that help show how Neo Burlesque has changed over time, and how today’s work connects to what came before.
You’ll find curated Q&As, ideas I use in my own consulting work, and writing that moves between critique and documentation. It isn’t coaching or a private help desk, but it’s practical, effective insight I share with my successful clients and colleagues day to day, shared to help people see the bigger picture more clearly.
Most writing remains free. This paid space is for readers who enjoy thoughtful critique, long memories, discussion and practical guidance.
Introducing me…
I’m Holli Mae Johnson*, based by the sea in Kent, UK in a vintage pad full of shells, paintings, memorabilia and antique furniture. I’ve been a journalist, theatre critic, competition judge, and marketing/brand consultant for the past twenty years.
Before that I spent a decade training and performing as a young singer and actor, obsessed with writing, opera and fine art. Cue record scratch. After a life-changing personal tragedy in my late teens I found myself at 20 - via a bizarre chain of events - in a San Francisco club at the core of the Neo Burlesque revival. Eager for purpose and a loving community, I founded an online magazine to document the global scene and revel in showgirl subculture.
My accidental career has seen me backstage at the Moulin Rouge and Crazy Horse Paris, chatting with entertainment legends at West End premieres, and nursing a chipped front tooth courtesy of an on-stage collision with a magnum of Dom Perignon at The Box. Most rewarding by far, though, has been the intimate conversations with creatives from every rung of the ladder, on Vegas rooftops, in bathroom stalls, dressing rooms, backseats of cabs, hammocks, hair salons, and endless late night phone calls. When I couldn’t bear to be me, I made my life about them, and over two decades they showed me how to curate my own life instead of just letting it happen to me.
* The Mae was added during a stint as a pinup model in the noughties and it stuck. Surrey girl frequently assumed to be an American to this day.
Why subscribe?
I know how pesky it is swiping away rando emails, but I won’t do you dirty; that’s a promise. If you’re subscribed you won’t have to worry about missing anything. Every new addition goes directly to your inbox, or - my fave option - you can download the Substack app as well and read it there if you prefer - makes Sunday lie-ins even nicer!
