“I expelled all the liquids in my body for two weeks before going!” Milan-based performer Bettie Buio confesses, describing the nervy run-up to her Nasty Burlesque Festival debut. Two years into her burlesque career, she says it’s the best festival she’s attended. “They treat you like a Faberge egg.”
For a few days each year, Nasty Burlesque Festival in Treviso cultivates a momentary family. Judges, headliners, crew and competitors eat together, mingle and chat together, and share dressing rooms. I stay on through tech rehearsals for exactly this reason – partly to document the festival as I have for two consecutive years, but mostly to talk to the emerging performers – and listen, too. It makes the whole thing less intimidating for them, and by the time they’re on stage I’m not judging strangers, but witnessing burlesque through their eyes and ideas. And it feels important and insightful at this time to share that with the scene at large.
I asked eight competitors how they see the European burlesque scene they’re building a career in, and at the same time I reached out to some veterans to lend a longer term perspective. Canadian royalty Foxy Lexxi – a headliner at this year’s NBF – was also happy to weigh in on her impressions of the European scene and the newcomers she met.
Neo-Burlesque has grown and defined itself on both sides of the Atlantic over the last thirty years, and what’s come out of those parallel decades in Europe specifically is a genuine duality: a scene capable of real, open-handed collaboration and inclusion – and, at the same time, defensiveness around questions of tradition, aesthetics and territory. Newcomer and veteran alike can feel caught between ideals and ideology.
If you haven’t had the pleasure, let me introduce the smouldering Cocoa Amore from London – three years in and ready to take on the world; angel-faced Seraphine Sauvage in Vienna, a former competitive rhythmic gymnast; doe-eyed Shibari artist Bettie Buio, juggling a full time job in tech; charisma personified Apolo D’Vino from Zurich, a psychology student and draglesque performer; Liz Beth from Rome – crowned Miss Nasty Burlesque 2025 and making a mark Stateside; poetess and accomplished DIY costumer Ursula Rumblestone from Vicenza; Poppy Peachy from Paris with acts inspired by vintage photography; and Rome’s Argenta Luna, an architect by day, striving for structural changes in her local scene.
You may be more familiar with the veteran contributors: sumptuous Swiss star Chris Oh!, who headlined NBF last year; BHoF Most Classic winner Ginevra Joyce from Rome – my co-judge in Treviso the past two years; Fraulein Frauke, seasoned producer of the long-running Stockholm Burlesque Festival; Misty Lotus, founder of the Swiss Burlesque Academy and Burlesque Extravaganza in Lausanne, and master of the craft Foxy Lexxi Brown from Montreal.
At the outset there is positivity and enthusiasm about the European burlesque scene at large. “There is such an abundance of cultures,” says Seraphine, “with diverse artistic approaches and ways of interpreting burlesque onstage.” Apolo agrees that “every country has its own style and different influences, yet there is a strong sense of connection and mutual support.” Cocoa Amore has “found community that surpasses borders and language barriers … with so many people from different backgrounds.” Foxy Lexxi keeps coming back for the same reason: “Every time I leave Europe, I come home with new ideas, new inspiration, and a fresh perspective,” she says. “It’s always a place that challenges me creatively, and I’m grateful for that.”
The Gateway
As often happens, some of our emerging performers weren’t looking for burlesque when it found them. Apolo D’Vino was hauled up from the crowd at Zurich’s Ohh! LaLa! Cherie! for an audience striptease game: “The producer approached me afterwards to ask if I’m a performer, and offered me a guest spot at the next show. I thought, ‘why not, let’s try’.” Poppy Peachy had a similar accidental encounter: “One day we saw a show – le Cabaret Canaille, and I just felt absolutely in love. A few days later I was already obsessed.” Bettie Buio “casually ran into” a burlesque festival in Taormina on a 2018 holiday, years before she ever performed herself.
Ursula Rumblestone traces her first exposure back to Dita Von Teese, and Seraphine Sauvage was watching Crazy Horse Paris videos on loop at 17. “I was completely captivated,” she says – enough to leave home against her parents’ wishes to audition herself two years later. She didn’t get in, but it led her toward Vienna and – serendipitously – a show short on dancers.
Liz Beth was “already familiar” with burlesque at 23, having soaked up cabaret and vintage aesthetics through classic films for years. It became her true calling when she saw Lola Itsy – who later became her teacher – perform live. “That was the spark that changed everything.” A school was the catalyst for two others – Cocoa Amore at The Cheek of It! in London, and Bettie at Ella Bottom Rouge’s school in Milan.
Conversely, Argenta Luna got her start while working in Beijing, China. “I was looking for a new dance school and found Leru’s swing classes, where I auditioned for her Moonglow burlesque troupe.” She danced with the troupe for four years before moving back to Italy in 2022.
The Ones They Watch
Ask who inspires them and the same names often recur across individual conversations.
Chris Oh! is Apolo’s drag and burlesque mentor – “It’s an honor to be part of his family and legacy,” and Liz Beth lists him among her own inspirations. Ursula cites his “showgirl routine” as something formative.
Ginevra Joyce shows up repeatedly as well: Bettie says she’s “absolutely my favorite for classical movement and prop handling,” and Ursula praises her “facial expressions.”
Miss Exotic World 2025, Jessabelle Thunder is a heroine for Cocoa Amore, and Bettie Bombshell – the Australian powerhouse sitting at No. 2 on the Burlesque TOP 50 behind Jessabelle at No.1 – draws praise as well, with Argenta Luna “in awe of her stage presence, irony, and energy,” hoping to meet her in person one day. Ursula’s standout icon is Dirty Martini, “because she is a legend, and since the 90s she brings the most powerful and natural concept of body positivity onstage.”
Beyond burlesque, Liz Beth loves Liza Minnelli – “sophisticated, melancholic, and at the same time grotesque,” and Seraphine attributes aesthetic influence to Alexander McQueen for his “’Enfant terrible’ fierce energy, drama and avant-garde soul.”
Paying to Play
The tension starts to creep in, as it usually does, around money – and the limitations it can pose.
“It’s really, really hard to live from your burlesque career,” says Poppy in Paris, who pays her bills as a photo assistant in luxury fashion. “It’s really not well paid, but the ticket prices are really high. I’ve had more great and well paid shows around the world than in Paris.”
Liz Beth has watched the Roman venues around her close one by one. “What I find most disappointing is seeing so many venues close because audiences are getting smaller,” she says, “and realising how difficult it is to make a living through art, especially in Italy where it’s often still not considered a ‘real’ profession.”
Argenta isn’t waiting around for that to change, tired of the “spoiled market” that’s got comfortable underpaying artists. “Last year I started to organise burlesque shows in new venues and restaurants in Rome, casting other performers in my network. I take care of the negotiation and organisation.”
In Milan, Bettie Buio says “it’s really difficult to depart from the community circuit of events and festivals, and work for actual productions or connect with venues by yourself, especially if you don’t want to step on another producer’s toes.”
Stockholm’s Fraulein Frauke – a producer since 2009, says: “If you are new and ready to put the effort in, I would say it is fairly easy to get started. What is much more difficult is for established performers to ‘take the next step’. There are fewer and fewer bigger shows, where performers are being paid fairly and towards travel and accommodation.” This means performers must “pay to play,” fronting their own costs if they want an international career.
Ginevra Joyce concurs that “the scene felt much smaller and more closed” when she started out in 2012. “The same established performers were booked for most of the big shows across Europe, and it was much harder for newcomers to be seen,” she says. “[But] thanks to the growth of burlesque schools, workshops, competitions, festivals, and especially social media, performers have so many more opportunities to show their work and connect with producers.”
Chris Oh!, who arrived on the European scene in 2017, raises the issue of entitlement. “In the younger generations I see this entitlement coming through,” he says. “‘Because I’ve done this or I spent this much money, I’m automatically entitled to shows or being featured’ – without knowing that there are hard yards to be paid.”
Community, Conflict and the Big Picture
Following on the heels of security and career progression is that perpetual hot potato: community.
“Every person I’ve met through burlesque has left me with something valuable,” says Liz Beth. “I’ve felt welcomed and supported by so many people whom I admire both as artists and as human beings.” That said, she’s also watched how tight the circle can get: “The same artists are often booked repeatedly.”
Seraphine laments that “although you’re surrounded by people, you’re often completely alone when it comes to carrying the responsibility of your career … [not only] a performer but choreographer, costume maker, dance teacher, web designer, administrator – the reality behind all the sparkles.” It’s taught her “to value kindness, professionalism, and mutual respect above everything else.”
Bettie Buio goes furthest. “There is no real ‘codified’ way to settle problems as a community, from disagreements about festival names to actual call-outs for alleged abuse,” she says, “and any situation is now handled as a series of Instagram stories and opinions based on personal perception.” She’s watched the BDSM community build something burlesque hasn’t: “studies and resources that would be beneficial for burlesque community leaders to better handle these situations – Conflict Resolution, Trauma-Informed Care, and Psychological First Aid.” Her worry is what happens without it: “It’s not good to have groups hating each other and go on a Cold War when we are about ten people doing something that society doesn’t even approve of.”
Misty Lotus, performing since 2014 and a staunch advocate for diversity, agrees that while the scene has always had its cliques, “we are such a small group, and instead of infighting we should be thinking collectively about what we want our future to look like.”
Ursula encounters different experiences at home and over the border. “I would really love to be more [involved in] the Italian scene, but I feel I belong more to the European scene,” she says, “not only for the values but also the sense of community. As a Neo-burlesque performer and history lover, I feel more seen and appreciated abroad.”
Fellow Italian Argenta Luna’s experience in Beijing makes for a sharp contrast, too. “In China I was part of a close knit troupe – I was used to sisterhood,” she says. “In Europe I can’t find quite the same, yet.” She’s encountered “some shady dynamics that didn’t make me feel comfortable.”
Antisocial Media?
How does this generation of European burlesque feel about social media, and utilise it?
“I discover a lot day by day about new performers, shows and festivals,” says Ursula. “I believe that social media is fundamental to keep communicating with audiences and other artists.”
For others, the cost outweighs the use. “It’s super hard to not compare yourself in a bad way,” says Poppy. “You think it’s never enough, you have to post more, about you, your fake private life, doing some videos, TikTok as well … this race for followers makes me super stressed.” Argenta has “experienced on a very practical level how your social presence can impact your possibility to be booked or even paid … Only a couple of years ago I was paid less for a gig because my followers were considered low at that time.”
“I’ve always had a difficult relationship with technology and social media,” Liz Beth explains. “Before burlesque, I didn’t use social media at all [but] I realised it was the only real way to make my work visible. I felt forced to use it, and there are periods when I can’t bring myself to post anything.” Cocoa Amore is more resigned: “Very much love-hate, but a necessity in the digital world if I want to remain prominent and in the know.”
Seraphine and Apolo agree that social media can be “inspiring” and “important,” but also “overwhelming.” Seraphine is also “increasingly concerned about AI facial recreation and how it is being used, especially when it comes to protecting artists’ identities, images, and consent.”
Misty Lotus, who came up before any of this existed, bemoans “the shift from flyers and word of mouth to Instagram as the main promotional tool,” because of “the constant fight with censorship and shadowbanning of burlesque content.”
Knowing Their History and Creating Their Own
When I ask how much attention they pay to burlesque history, and where their acts and influences originate, the answers split into three distinct camps.
Ursula builds hers directly out of the past. Her octopus number draws on Japanese erotic prints, “where the octopus is a symbol of eroticism and female pleasure” that “takes up more space than my body.” As she puts it: “If you don’t appreciate me this big, then I’ll be even bigger and monstrous.” She names Carrie Finnell, Gypsy Rose Lee, Zorita and Faith Bacon as Golden Age pioneers she looks up to.
Liz Beth’s own style draws heavily from the 1920s and 1930s, and she thinks it’s “essential” to understand the roots of the artform. Argenta believes “burlesque history should be mandatory in burlesque schools.” Her Moonglow troupe in China created tributes to past showgirls and icons.
Others are curious about the past without directly drawing on it. “It’s funny to realise that Neo-Burlesque is the same age as I am,” says Seraphine, born in 1995 – old enough to be curious about the history, but focused on “movement and atmosphere” as she creates her own work. Apolo agrees that history matters – “we should never forget the legacy of those who came before us,” but is “more interested in creating acts that feel authentic to me,” rather than “recreating past styles or eras.”
Bettie follows creators and podcasts to learn about the past – “why they did certain acts in a specific way, what makes them unique,” but for her own acts finds more in “movies, subcultures, music, and experiences.” Cocoa Amore has only recently started looking into burlesque history; her drive from the start was pin-up, rock and roll, dance, and idols entirely outside the artform – Donna Summer, Diahann Carroll, Betty Davis and Beyoncé.
As for the veterans, Misty Lotus wants history taught as standard: “It frustrates me when younger performers don’t take the time to learn about our history. I think it should be compulsory.” Ginevra laughs when she thinks back to her early years, “because my style was often described as ‘American Burlesque’. Which basically meant I was doing something as ‘wild’ as a high kick or a split!” She’s relieved that “the scene here is slowly becoming more welcoming to different artistic voices.”
Chris Oh! worries about something closer to what Bettie and Cocoa are already avoiding: not too little history, but too much imitation of whatever’s currently trending: “People are inherently taking what they see and just reproducing, as opposed to honing your persona and narrative techniques, and offering something that’s fully expressive of who you are.” With that aim, Frauke encourages looking outside of burlesque for inspiration – in “art, film, poetry, and literature.”
Foxy Lexxi, watching from outside Europe, echoes this philosophy, hoping newer performers “don’t get caught up in trying to recreate what they consume online. The magic happens when you dig deeper into your own perspective.”
Across the Pond
Only three of the eight have performed outside Europe, and they’ve compared home and away.
Liz Beth’s trip to New Orleans for Teaser Fest was a profound experience. “What struck me the most was the warmth, enthusiasm and appreciation from the audience,” she says. “You can really feel that [Neo] burlesque has a history there and that it’s deeply valued as an art form.” She also observed “much more collaboration and much less competition. Artists genuinely promote each other, support one another, and celebrate each other’s work.”
Argenta Luna’s New York stint – a stop on the way to the Hollywood Burlesque Festival, ran colder. “I had the feeling that I’m too ‘vanilla’ for the US market,” she admits. The areas she wants to sharpen are interpretation and storytelling, and she’s clear that leaning into anything more explicitly sexual on stage isn’t for her.
Poppy has toured enough to draw her own conclusions. “[In Europe] we have our roots in cabaret, storytelling and theatre. In the USA I can see the roots in striptease, the show and performance itself – always more and more. We have so many talented people around the world.”
Foxy Lexxi backs Poppy’s read almost exactly. “In the US, many newer performers seem inspired by the glamorous, polished image people traditionally associate with burlesque – showgirls, spectacle, that larger-than-life star quality,” she says. “The business side also feels a little more present too, with performers thinking about branding and building a career from early on.” Europe, to her eye, runs on something else: “Theatre, storytelling, comedy, character work … a willingness to be quirky and experimental, letting the concept lead the performance.” She maintains that “neither is better than the other. They’re simply different perspectives, and I think both have so much to learn from each other.”
Ambition, Realism and Future Plans
Some of our emerging Europeans dream in scale. Cocoa Amore wants to “take it as far as humanly possible,” touring the world as her burlesque persona. Ursula’s goal is “to live only Of and For Burlesque,” and to one day be a role model for the community. She already has a ritual for it – writing letters to the performers she shares a dressing room with – and hopes “to enter one day and see everyone giving a letter to each other.”
Bettie wants to “improve, learn more and perform more,” in Italy and beyond, and eventually produce something of her own. “Sometimes I am really drained and physically I somatise stress, but I’m keeping a decent mindset about everything for now.” Apolo wants to refine his movement and amplify his stage presence, but “I never want to lose my own artistic and personal point of view.” Seraphine’s motivation is legacy – “to create work that inspires others, to leave an artistic trace” – and she’s practising that with the students she teaches in Vienna and Salzburg. “Witnessing their personal journeys and the way they step into their power is the most beautiful gift.”
In some cases, ambition runs into pragmatism. Liz Beth would love burlesque to become her full-time profession, but wants to “build that future wisely.” She’s been through the alternative once already, becoming “so absorbed in it that I drifted away from the people I love. That’s a risk I’m no longer willing to take.” Poppy’s dream of headlining shows and touring full-time wrestles with the reality of a day job she isn’t ready to leave: “It becomes less and less realistic … you can’t do everything at the same time. We have to make choices.”
Argenta Luna’s ambition is more personal than structural, beyond the work she’s doing to raise pay in Rome. “I keep experimenting with my duality, a classic aesthetic with a neo/pop twist,” she says, “but I’d love to add my own voice.” Keeping that endeavour separate from her day job as an architect costs her: “[It’s] kind of exhausting,” she admits, “and sometimes I feel I’m not living to the fullest.”
The veterans, when asked what they want for the emerging generation, reinforce what they’re already reaching for. Ginevra’s hope is that they “continue to be bold, challenge expectations, and bring their own authentic voice to the stage” – believing that the performers who last are those who resist becoming copies of anyone else. Frauke urges them to “be professional and friendly, reliable, and kind to the technicians and crew.” Misty’s hope reaches beyond burlesque itself: “The socioeconomic circumstances of the world right now are fully against us – the only way through is to remain undivided.” And Lexxi, watching some of this new generation up close with me at Nasty this year, says meeting them “gives me a lot of hope for where the scene is going.”
Profiled by Holli Mae Johnson. With thanks to Cocoa Amore, Argenta Luna, Bettie Buio, Seraphine Sauvage, Liz Beth, Apolo D’Vino, Ursula Rumblestone, Poppy Peachy, Chris Oh!, Misty Lotus, Fraulein Frauke, Ginevra Joyce and Foxy Lexxi.