It saddens me to admit that I forgot how fucking amazing this movie is.
Never mind that Bette Porter is kind of my idol, and that I think all stripper movies are amazing even if Rottentomatoes.com disagrees, FLASHDANCE FUCKING ROCKS.
And here’s why:
Now it’s time for your favourite part of my sporadically-posted postings and whimsies. The part where I share how much I am JUST LIKE the protagonist.
Like Alex, I, too, like perusing French Vogue.
Only I actually speak french. Not that in compels me to actually read any of the articles.
And I would probably shit my pants if you asked me to hang out at a welding site for an afternoon that could otherwise be spent on my mom’s couch.
… and occasionally their expressions of awe are usurped by this:
Like Alex, I would absolutely pick this warehouse paradise to situate my dream home/dance studio.
Like Alex, I, too, ride a bicycle. Only there’s no fucking way I’d ride it to work because then I’d have some guy follow me home in his creepy sports car and I wouldn’t have a pit bull waiting at the door to defend me.
And, of course, there is that look of total boredom while you’re resting on your elbows, showing your ass off to some guys who wanna peek at my biscuit:
I FELL YOUR AMBIVALENCE, GIRLFRIEND.
Of course, until there’s a movie that’s about Iris Fucking Greene, there will always be moments where I’ll watch the main character and be like, I totally don’t get you, girl.
Like when Alex displays remarkable competence when using power tools.
And, when Alex NEVER locks up her bike. She just LEAVES it on the sidewalk for some hooligan to scoop up. Maybe Pittsburgh is just a bike-theft-free haven and I didn’t know about it until now.
Also, I don’t really get the 80’s athleticism that seems to have bread the tightest and tiniest asses of all time.
I’m convinced it’s just because cocaine was way cheaper back then.
Finally, the girls never get naked on stage. Because they’re not technically ‘strippers,’ but ‘dancers.’ You say to-MAY-to, I say to-MAH-to.
It’s been so long since I’ve been on a stage and remained clothed that I really don’t know what I’d do if I was instructed to do anything otherwise.
Like, OMG, you guys. I WANT THIS NECKLACE SO BAD.
AND I WANT SO BADLY TO GO ON A DATE, WEARING THIS, SUCKING BUTTER OFF MY FINGERS.