Frenchy and The Wiggle Room - An Icon and A Safe Space
Up a short flight of stairs, above Boulevard Saint Laurent, is one of the city’s top venues. From the outside, the only signage is plain black, but inside hides a true cabaret theatre. Small tables and booths, each with with candles and cocktail menus fill the room all facing a stage framed by a red curtain with gold fringe. A bartender with suspenders and a bowtie is mixing drinks. There is a palpable energy in the air; the anticipation of a night just beginning. Then Frenchy Jones takes the stage.
Watching Frenchy host an event is a masterclass in stagecraft. She is commanding, self aware, hilarious. The audience sits happily in the palm of her hand, and more than entertained, I am enthralled. Sure, I'd like to be a sexy burlesque girl with tassels and glitter, but more than that, I wish for the presence and ease that Frenchy displays onstage. She takes the stage in a bodycon dress of comic book panels and sneakers, and we are immediately enamoured. The packed room listens intently as Frenchy explains the boundaries, casually tells jokes, and whets our appetites for what's to come.
Photo by Coco Haus
Of course, even for Frenchy, it wasn't something that could be learned over night. She's been a vital part of The Wiggle Room, Montreal's only burlesque cabaret, for over ten years. Over a year ago now, she became the owner, making her one of only THREE female cabaret owners in North America. She's in rarefied air, but wishes it was more common.
“I think it's an accomplishment, it's really cool, but also a little bit sad sometimes because we should have more women owned businesses in this industry because it is a very strong female industry, so it should be owned by more females,” Frenchy tells me.
A peek at the staff list and you'll find that all the management positions at The Wiggle Room are held by women, and I wondered if that was a conscious choice.
“I think it was a conscious choice, but also the people that I knew in the industry, because it is such a highly femme industry, these are the people that I knew that were the most capable and valuable to me.”
Since taking ownership of The Wiggle Room, Frenchy has made some important changes. Of course, in the past decade the scene itself has morphed, so I asked her to tell me about the cabaret’s evolution.
“I think that when we opened up the idea behind it was that it was a very male gaze kind of art form, and I think that's what a lot of people thought it was, but it really isn't. It's really more of a female gaze oriented art form. And I think that in the past few years that's been very, very evident. And it's really beautiful to see. Because I think that the nature of the female gaze in that art form makes it a little bit more -- sometimes. I don't know how to explain it. Really, it just makes it nicer; it makes it safer in a way.”
Safety is a priority for Frenchy. As a neurodivergent queer woman, she has endeavoured to create a safe and joyful space for all. It feels very much like the space belongs to the performers: a place where they are stars and not commodities, and the audience is cordially invited, but cannot rule the roost. The Wiggle Room doesn't pander to the base, it showcases artistic expression that happens to be very easy in the eyes. Here, the performers call the shots and draw the boundaries, creating an environment wherein there's no need to question anything, only to enjoy. In other words, there is no moral ambiguity in looking at these sexy ladies, they are giving joyful consent. The audience is loud and excitable, but they are well behaved and grateful. If a spectator crosses a line, the audience will turn on them. Don't yuk the yum. That's all thanks to Frenchy.
Photo: Adam Lepp
“When we talk about The Wiggle Room -- and the whole scene -- people would get drunk and forget about consent and think that because you're a performer that they have access to your body. Slaps on the ass happened, and grabbing certain body parts, and things like that. So I think that for me, it was quite traumatic, and I vowed to change that. There's a lot of talk about consent when you come to The Wiggle Room, but it is done in a very light, by the way, so it's not like these are the rings of consent. No: make it part of the hosting, and the animation, and joking about it. Consent has been a very big journey that we've been on. I make big crowds yell NO TOUCHY-TOUCHY.”
For weekend shows, they take the extra care to seat people and talk to them about the space. Sat by a performer dressed to the nines, she asks “is this is your first time here?”, and if you say yes, they’ll immediately tell you where the bathrooms are. I told her I had been there before (regarding the rules), but I would've never remembered the bathrooms. This touch -- not only the customer service, but the fact that she is smiling, covered in feathers, inherently part of the experience -- feels luxurious. It’s a venue of distinction and prestige, and by some miracle, we are all VIPs. The decor is lush with velvet and sultry lights. I feel both rich and classy being here. I know classy people don't use the word classy, GTFO. This is me being classy.
“[They say] you can take pictures if you want to, no flash, and make sure that you don't touch the performers. So, they're being told when they sit down, they're being told during the show, repetitively. What I've noticed, when somebody is drunk and didn't listen, and they go up to give a tip to a performer and then slap the ass or something, after they put five dollars in their g-string…and the audience will kind of shame the person after. When they go sit back down with their friends, they're like, you're not allowed to do that! They kind of auto correct themselves. Also, when we do correct people, we do it very um, visibly. So right after let's say, if somebody calls somebody down, we grab them by the arm. Well, not grab them but standing up in front of everybody we talk to them very visibly. So, let's say someone grabs somebody's ass, we intervene right away, standing up in front of everyone, and we talk to them. People don't hear what we're saying, but they know that we're saying like, hey, you're not allowed to do that, right? Everybody sees that, and so everybody's very conscious of it. So there's a very active interaction about consent throughout the night on many levels.”
Under Frenchy’s direction, The Wiggle Room has become more welcoming in other ways too. Headphones are available so those who don't like woops and hollers can slip them on and enjoy the show at their own comfort level. Need a break cuz you just hit your introvert wall and you’re about to bail on your buddies? There's an office where you can recharge and reconsider.
How does someone grow up to be a burlesque cabaret owner? As with most artistic professions, it's less of a straight line and more of a commitment to path. When I asked Frenchy if she ever imagined growing up to be a burlesque owner, the answer was a clear no. As a self proclaimed Jill of All Trades, she followed her heart, and it's brought her here. Always an artist, she gravitated toward theatre, worked as a makeup artist, and participated on a million projects.
“At one point I said to myself, I need to have this be my job. And then a few years later, it was my job…I think I just went with the flow. I’m neurodivergent, so sometimes things have happened, and I've been like oh!, and then something pops up because of all the efforts I've done in the past,, but I didn't realize what it would amount to. So, I think it kind of just happened, but it was a lot of effort on my part, I just didn't know where I was going with it, and it kind of culminated at one point where I was like ah, there. I'm into this.”
As always, I'm curious to hear the perspective of those who've been in the local arts scene for more than a few moons. When I asked Frenchy what she thinks of the scene as a whole, and how it's changed, she qualifies by saying she might not be the one to ask, but indulges me.
*I don't necessarily think that it has changed. I think people have changed. I think the art is a little bit different, but I think that at the core, it's still the same type of people that are attracted towards the Arts -- it's like a wheel that's turning -- and it's similar people who gravitate to Montreal…And they make art together… I think that you can have a small job and still do your art compared to other bigger cities that are more expensive.”
Montreal feels that way to me too. And the venues, of course, are more than places to grab a drink. My Wiggle Room experience felt a bit like stepping into a separate world, one filled with as many smiles as sequins, and proud women calling the shots. A world where you can look, but no price will allow you to touch. There's no other place in Montreal where a talented chick can take her skills, become a star in her skivvies, and be so safe and respected. The burlesque scene is secretly as big as it is beautiful. A performer can hone their skills at The Wiggle Room and take their act to international competitions and the like. And if you have the drive and passion for that type of thing, you might even find yourself on a path to become the city's next one-name icon.
For more information, or to purchase tickets to a show, visit The Wiggle Room’s website!
