How about those gold cowgirl go-go boots? I thought that costume was the cat’s pajamas. We shook our sequins to the 1974 hit song “I’ve Got the Music In Me” by the Kiki Dee Band. I still remember some of the choreography. What a blast! But even after all the fun I was having dancing the night away, there came a time when I lost my groove (read below). What rocked your world as a kid? Does it have anything to do with your life today? It’s so easy to get stressed-out and busy with serious, grown-up stuff. Before you know it, your sizzle has started to fizzle. Maybe it’s time to put on your go-go boots and get your boogie back.

Enjoy this excerpt from

Long Legs and Tall Tales: A Showgirl’s Wacky, Sexy Journey to the Playboy Mansion & the Radio City Rockettes

by Kristi Lynn Davis

Although truly devastated about quitting Hattie’s, I couldn’t bear to stop dancing, so I moved to her rival studio, Priscilla Prescott’s School of Dance. You couldn’t be more of a traitor than to leave Hattie’s for Priscilla’s, but Priscilla was the only other good teacher in town. I felt I had no choice. Still, the decision was difficult to make, as changing studios is like denouncing your citizenship to your native country. The instant you register for lessons somewhere, you swear an automatic allegiance to that place. You know not to become too friendly with a kid from another dance facility, and if one were to corner you at school, to reveal only your name, rank, and serial number. “They tortured me, and I told them about pliés and shuffle-off-to-Buffalos! Dear, God! I told them about Buffalos!” There was no telling the dance secrets you might spill if bullied, so it was best to just avoid dancers from other studios, if at all possible.

It was common knowledge that Hattie and Priscilla were arch enemies. The competition between them was so fierce, if the two somehow ended up in the same room they would surely pull each others’ hair out in a down-and-dirty cat-fight. Back at Hattie’s, Priscilla’s name was spoken in hushed tones if someone dared ever speak it at all. When one of you-know-who’s best students, Ninny Boil (yes, the same Ninny who won the Miss Suburbs Pageant), defected to Hattie’s, the Dallas gals were more than happy to offer her asylum. Acquiring the competition’s crème de la crème was a major coup, and there was much rejoicing. For her treason, Ninny was rewarded with the red carpet treatment and lead roles, but she could never show her face at her former studio again. So, as a deserter entering Priscilla’s for the first time, I felt like I had to look over my shoulder to make sure the Dallas clan didn’t have spies following me.

Surprisingly, Priscilla was not at all fearsome. She was classy, trustworthy, and not interested in having her students compete. She commanded respect, because she treated you respectfully. Her hair was perfectly coiffed, and her dancer’s body was thin and toned. Someone said she had danced with the Royal Ballet in London. She could have been royalty herself as posh as she was. Her students were required to have two years of ballet before being allowed to take jazz, which annoyed some people but cut out the riffraff. The atmosphere at Priscilla’s was like a library compared to the three-ring circus at Hattie’s.

It was hard changing studios and starting over after all those years at Hattie’s. I didn’t know the girls at Priscilla’s and was too shy to make many new friends. Accustomed to playing lead roles, I had to start back at the bottom and move up the ranks. On the up side, Priscilla was an extremely wonderful person, and she helped me improve my pirouettes, which had been troubling me for years. Still, I never really got into my groove there.

My momentum seemed to be fizzling out, making it all the more surprising when my mother received a phone call from out of the blue. “Mrs. Davis? This is Priscilla Prescott. I think Kristi has the potential to be a professional dancer, and I am willing to help her if she’s interested.” Mom and I were flattered and floored, knocked down and tickled pink. Nevertheless, I only considered this preposterous idea for a nanosecond. I truly didn’t believe I was that good. Although obsessed with dance throughout my childhood, the thought of doing it for a living had never occurred to me. Dancing professionally seemed like a lark, not a viable vocation. I didn’t know any professional dancers and hadn’t the slightest notion of how to go about becoming one even if I were crazy enough to want to try. Hence, Priscilla’s generous offer, while tremendously appreciated, was rebuffed.

Remember, you’ve still got the music in you. You may just need to turn up the volume so the rest of the world can hear it. Come back next week for the exciting episode in which I meet a Bohemian angel who helps me take the next big step.

Boogie on,

Kristi