
Photo courtesy Trevor Pritchard
Let me start by saying that I wouldn’t necessarily consider myself an exhibitionist. When I heard the Honeysuckle Strip Spelling Bee was making its debut in Ottawa on the weekend, however, I eagerly wanted to be a part of smashing the sexless sweatpant-wearing image some might equate with our fine city.
Still, I was hoping I could smash that image from the comfort of my sweatpants, simply by previewing the event. Alas, it was not to be. One of my “respected” colleagues here at Apartment613 suggested, with an impish winky-face emoticon, that I participate in the event. And not being one to shrink from a dare, I accepted.
But before we get to the good bits, let’s backtrack.The Honeysuckle Strip Spelling Bee is the bootylicious baby of Montreal-based artist Sherwin Tjia. The rules of the game are simple: one by one, participants are asked to spell a word. If they get it right, they sit down. If they get it wrong, they must striptease a THIRD of their clothing off. When they misspell a second word, they must striptease off ANOTHER third off. A third and final strike requires that they strip down to their underwear – or NAKED, whichever they’re most comfortable with.
And so it was on Friday night that I found myself in the (very crowded) Shanghai Restaurant, waiting for the fun to begin.
Surprisingly, I was surrounded by average-looking folk — some practicing their spelling, some playing peek-a-boo with their outfits — while lewdness and longing hung from the walls like red velvet. Tija got stuff going by explaining that, for the safety of the contestants, there was a “no photos” policy in effect. This deal was sweetened, he explained, with a snitch policy: “If you see a photo being taken, report it, and you’ll get a free drink.” Another policy? No heckling. “Oh, and shut the f*ck up when I’m talking” he added, to the roar of the raucous crowd.
With that, the first round was underway. Impossible words like “cromlech,” “ornithischnean,” and “schurening” were flung, one by one, at men and women standing alone on a small spotlit platform, surrounded by the eager eyes of the crowd. Official orator and co-host Luna Allison raised the temperature by delivering the words and their definitions with orgasmic orality, while Tjia gladly used the word in a dirty sentence if required.
Gloves, shoes, belts, all the beginning layers slowly came off at the ding of the bell, the immediate signal for the misspelling of a word. Hips, hats and hair were tossed. The crowd was already wild.
In the second round words were just as hard, and sure enough another layer of clothing was peeled away by each contestant. Shoulders, belly-buttons, bum cheeks were revealed, as were lilac-coloured corsets, thigh-high stockings, panties and bras. Shirts were spun overhead, while skirts were thrown in high arcs into the crowd. By the end, there wasn’t much left to work with for the final round.
But round three followed (birthday) suit all the same. Deplorable words, dirty definitions, the dinging bell: the crowd hooted and hollered from the very bottom of their beings. T&A quickly made appearances, as did some sneaky glimpses of V&P. Booby-tassles reigned supreme and, in the end, all went home very happy.
And what about me, you ask? My words were also ridiculous. Like “oliogeneous.” What? I did my best to stall at the microphone. I used my wit as a weapon, but eventually, the bell tolled for me too. With the help of liquid courage, and a hell of a lot of layers, I forgot about my translucent February skin, as well as the extra 10 pounds put on from holiday feasts, and I just went with it. After all, the point isn’t the nudity. It’s the show. It’s letting go and watching others let go too. But just how far did I go? Well, I’d have to add a rule of my own to Tija’s list: what happens at Honeysuckle, stays at Honeysuckle.
But don’t worry: Tija said that he’s planning to make Ottawa a regular feature in the Honeysuckle tour. As he told us at the end of the night, “you put the HOT in (H)Ottawa!”