The dames of Burlesquefest 2003 had pitched their tent in my town for one night - and one night only - so a friend and I put our glad rags on and took the tin can on the road to have a look-see.

The show promised to be a real hum-dinger and it didn't disappoint.

Inspired by the burlesque/vaudeville days of yore, this touring company is just one of a growing number making tracks nowadays, livening up joints in pure sockdollager fashion.

Burlesque is back, guys and dolls, and it's dripping with irony and sex appeal.

At the show, the audience was a variety of hipsters (both straight & lesbian couples), with a smattering of much older (65+) couples that, perhaps, were nostalgic for the tease.

Yesiree, Bob, it was fun for all ages.

Then there were the single guys who just wanted to see some bodacious bubs and curvy cans. Woof! Woof!

The show began with the Oracle Dance trio, kicking up their heels chorus-line style, before stripping down to their skivvies. These skirts were regular Oliver Twists. And not a bug-eyed betty among them!

The crowd hooped and hollered and, as the lights went down at the conclusion of this opening number, some palooka in the audience shouted, "Bring on the whores!"

What a dindy pill he was. Some fellas have no manners whatever, being so full of booshwash as they are.

The rest of the evening - over two hours long - alternated between bump and grind set-pieces (sometimes backed by pre-recorded musical standards circa the first half of the 20th century, others featuring a live band) all teased out by the gaggle of janes of Burlesquefest.

When the vampy dolls did a costume change (or, more accurately, went backstage to redress), the hall was filled by the tight sound of DeVotchKa - with an eastern European/punk hybrid vibe - that was nothing short of hot socks.

Highlights included a scantily clad Catherine D'Lish twirling on the catbird's seat in a giant birdcage, while water from a showerhead splashed down over her.

Suffering succotash, puddy tat! That broad has a gorgeous set of gams, believe you me. Betty Grable had nothing on her.