Acts of Violet(9)
I’m glad my sister’s work had a positive impact on your life, but let’s not pretend you’ve got noble intentions here. You really think Strange Exits will lead to a break in Violet’s case? Let’s get real. While I appreciate your generous offer to stalk me—ahem, sorry, I mean “meet me in person,” I’d rather clean slimy hairballs out of the drain with my bare hands than take you up on it. My sister told me never to trust a man with two first names, and while a lot of what she said was nonsense, I’ll take her at her word on that one.
Regards,
Sasha
Strange Exits
Episode 0.5: “Bloody Gorgeous”
CAMERON FRANK: One thing there’s no shortage of when you start researching Violet Volk: stories. Rumors, anecdotes, legends, all of which have a way of blurring together. Before we dive into the VV rabbit hole and explore some of these stories, I’d like to share my own.
I first saw Violet Volk on Later Tonight with Jackson Cleo in 1995. I’ll link to the YouTube clip in the show notes—if you haven’t seen it, you need to.
This was when I was a junior in high school, a humbling year for me, because I came down with a bad case of mono. I didn’t even get it the fun way: my best friend got it from making out with the cute girl who worked at Hot Topic while I caught it from sharing his soda. I was out of school for a month, which quickly lost its novelty, since I was mostly bedridden and incapable of doing more than watching TV all day. It was fun to stay up late, though, and the best part of that was getting to watch Later Tonight every night. Jackson Cleo was famous for going off script, ad-libbing his opening monologues, having impromptu conversations with audience members, and steering celebrity interviews into uncharted and uncomfortable territory. For those brave enough to run his gauntlet, it elevated their fame and made for memorable water cooler moments.
At this point, Violet was still unknown, working at Marabou, a burlesque club on the Lower East Side of Manhattan. Jackson Cleo had been to the club for a bachelor party and was blown away by Violet, the only burlesque performer to incorporate magic into her routine. He went back to see her act a few times, and raved about it on the show every time, joking that she wasn’t a magician, she had to be a witch—it was the only way to explain some of her impossible tricks. His producers hadn’t been able to get her on the show, so he extended a personal invitation right on TV for her to drop by Later Tonight. A few days later, Jackson got a life-size skeleton made of candy along with a note from Violet saying she couldn’t make it because she had a meetup with her coven in Salem. Jackson showed off the skeleton on the show and had a good laugh over it. But, of course, this also got him even more worked up. It turned into a regular bit between them. He’d implore her on the air to be his guest, promising he wouldn’t drown her or stick needles in her because he had a progressive attitude toward witches. She kept turning him down: her broom was broken so she had no transportation, she was busy scrubbing her cauldron, you get the idea.
When she finally did appear, a few months after their back-and-forth, she came out in a prim white dress that covered every inch of her body from the neck down; imagine a Victorian nightgown. Quite a departure from the sexy, flashy ensembles Jackson had mentioned when describing her performances.
As soon as she sat down, Jackson teased her about her modest look, asking if she had a date with Ebenezer Scrooge later, saying he would’ve brought ingredients to make s’mores if he’d known they were having a slumber party, that sort of thing.
Violet laughed along, ever the good sport, and said she wanted to look sweet and virginal for him, which made Jackson go tongue-tied. It was rare for him to appear nervous in front of a guest—this guy kept his cool when interviewing supermodels, presidents, some of the most famous people in the world.
Did he have a crush on her? That was the real reason he’d been chasing her for months to be on his show, right? Violet stated this hypothesis playfully, but Jackson stuttered and squirmed in his chair, waving away the audience’s hoots at his flummoxed state.
Then things got more interesting.
When asked about doing burlesque, Violet said it was all about being tantalizing, hinting at what you might reveal—the best burlesque dancers could drive a man crazy just by taking off their gloves. She asked if he’d like a demonstration and Jackson just about fell out of his chair. The band started up classic old-timey stripper music and Violet stood.
What followed was arguably the world’s most erotic below-the-elbow undressing. First, she teased Jackson (and the audience) by tugging up her sleeves, revealing long white gloves with tiny satin buttons. The removal itself felt both agonizingly slow and over much too quickly, each unfastened button a delicious torment. We gradually glimpsed the bare skin of her arms, then wrists, then palms, then fingers, and there was a collective gasp when her nails were revealed. Claws might be the better term here. They were metallic and pointed, like some kind of strange, sexy love child of Wolverine and Edward Scissorhands.
When Jackson asked if her nails were as razor-sharp as they looked, Violet grinned and said, “You tell me.” Then she tossed her gloves in the air, waved her hands at warp speed, and slashed the fabric into ribbons, then the ribbons into smaller pieces, which became handfuls of confetti. Violet blew the confetti at Jackson, who now looked like he was covered in fake snow.
The good-natured host laughed while brushing the confetti off his suit jacket, then stopped abruptly.