The girl on the screen didn't seem to be smiling. There were outward signs that spoke of distress. It wasn't accurate. It was clear to everyone else pictured as well as to the viewer that this carefully choreographed imagery was anything but distressing... even if the sounds emanating from the same screen were a far cry from laughter.
She was wearing an exotic outfit that mingled Orientalist fantasies of harem women with bright colors and clean lines. The dancer's soft, supple skin was being carefully pinched and compressed by ropes and straps that bit with a beautiful, bodacious tightness. Careful work had gone into creating the ela