Meirav Segev

Why it says plus size at all

Because people ask, and usually with an apology attached. So let it be written: I have a fuller figure, and it is not a softened version of something else. The same programme, the same length, the same boundaries.

The only difference is body type, and there is an audience looking for exactly that and rarely finding it. You do not need to phrase it delicately in a message — just say what you want.

Burlesque, and why it is mine

My base is classic burlesque: a corset, a feather fan, a slow tempo, and an undressing that moves in layers rather than all at once.

The style is built on presence, costume and timing rather than acrobatics. It highlights exactly what I have, which is why it suits me far better than anything else. I work in a real steel-boned corset, and it changes the line completely — it also sets the pace, because in a corset like that you cannot rush.

Alongside it I do pin-up, which is the exact opposite: full light, familiar music, a lot of smiling. My pin-up works in daylight too, and it is a style that makes people laugh before it moves them.

What a set of mine looks like

For the first three minutes I barely move from where I stand. Standing, looking, letting the room settle. It sounds like very little, and in practice it decides whether the rest works.

Then the gloves, the fan and the corset come in — in that order, each taking its own time. My strongest moment is not the ending but the middle: the point where it is already clear where this is going and it has not arrived yet.

A typical set of mine runs twenty to thirty minutes solo. In the longer format I add a costume change and a move from burlesque into pin-up, which gives two completely different halves in one evening.

Who it works best for

Groups of six to twelve, and mixed evenings above all. Burlesque is one of the few styles you can watch from across the room without feeling obliged to react, which is why a room with partners and colleagues takes it well.

Excellent for a birthday of thirty-five and up, for an evening for a couple, and for occasions where people want something considered rather than loud. Less suited to a party of twenty who have been drinking for two hours — that needs different energy.

What I need from the room

Not much: two and a half metres square of clear floor, a hard surface, and a stable armless chair if there is a seated section.

What does matter to me is light. One or two lamps to the side instead of the ceiling fitting — that changes the look more than anything else you can do. And because of the corset I need a room with a door to get ready in rather than a corner of the bathroom: getting into it takes about fifteen minutes.

A question I hear often

“Do you do a comic number?” No. There is no set of mine built on how I look as a joke, and if that is the request, we are both better off skipping the evening.

What there is, is humour. In pin-up it is part of the style, and it works in the room’s favour: it takes the tension out of a situation where people are not sure how to behave. Those are two entirely different things.

What I bring, and why the corset sets the clock

I arrive with a steel-boned corset, a sequin gown, a silk robe, a feather fan, long gloves and seamed stockings. All of it is mine and there is nothing for you to arrange.

Each of those removes a layer in its own time, which is why the set is a sequence rather than one piece. In the longer format I bring a second set for pin-up as well — a different silhouette, different shoes and a wig — and that is what turns an evening into two halves instead of a repeat.

The corset also decides my timing. Getting into it takes fifteen to twenty minutes and cannot be done standing at a sink, so I arrive about half an hour before the agreed time and need a room with a door that closes. That is not waiting around; it is part of the show.

Where I work

The whole service area, from Tel Aviv to the Sharon and the Shfela. A home, a hotel or a cabin all work, provided there is somewhere to change.

The price is the same as everyone else’s in the catalogue, with no additions. Cash at the end of the evening.