The Unmissable G Strings

December 18, 2025

The time was 9PM on a Friday. The place was the Rosewood Theater and strip club in Hudson Yards. The weather was absolutely, brutally cold…and yet the line for the G Strings show ran a solid twenty minutes out of the door. Who are the G Strings, you might ask? Well, they are a close-knit girl group wrapped up in sparkles and cheekiness. Their unmissable show last weekend put the girls’ strong dance technique and undeniable stage presence on full display. Bringing a fresh take on what it means to be a showgirl, their fan-base (consisting mostly of the girls and the gays), went feral during every number.

The group consists of members Frances Pine-Rinella, Julia Dipretoro, Charlie Sue Birznieks, Emily Eshoo, Julia Padavona, Chloe Terlingen, and Roberta Lavalle. They built themselves from the ground up, putting their sisterhood and individuality at the forefront of their work. In their own words, “Showgirls are showgirls because of their ability to make anything from nothing.” After the show, they gave office an exclusive look at the performance and all that went on behind it.

Check out the full interview below.

Interview + Words by Abby Dillingham
Photography by Austin DeWitt & Julie Benatar

Tell me about the birth of the G strings.

G-Strings was born from our sisterhood built on and off stage. G-Strings has many birthdays. It is born each time we choose to protest a system of control with humor and love. It’s embracing the randomness of where our bodies end up together. It’s rooted in 4am truck stop showers, dragging a wagon full of beachballs and dildos down Houston, climbing trees in our pumps, and falling off of the Slipper Room stage. If we made a list of every insane experience we’ve been through together, you wouldn’t believe us.

Most of us met through school at NYU, in nightlife, or in open dance classes around the city. G-Strings was officially born in October 2024 after Charlie Sue and Frances cried their hearts out on the Slipper Room stage, manifesting dreams of a showgirl band that would change the world through dance. The name was born at Shu Jiao Fu Zhou in Chinatown after Charlie and Frances were listening to the song G-String Murders by Los Mambo Jambo. Once our name was established Julia D and Charlie wrote the G-Strings Manifesto. As soon as we had words to define our messaging, shit got real.

How many members are there? Is this number constantly growing or do you see it staying constant?

There are 7 G-Strings. 7 feels lucky! The work calls for a closeness and friendship that has been growing for years. The chemistry we have as performers is truly a reflection of our trust in one another. We always say, “our show is not just a show, it’s a lifestyle.” It is a daily practice.

What’s one word to describe the energy in the dressing room?

Carny.

Throughout the show, costumes are constantly coming on (and off, of course). Who makes the clothes and how open is that collaboration?

The G-Strings do! One of our iconic pieces is the “Birthday Suit,” designed by Charlie Sue: a bra, panty, and merkin, stoned to resemble pubes and nipples. Charlie’s mom, Joie Shettler (an OG Pussycat Doll), also gave us some original pieces that are really sacred to us. One person may come up with a costuming idea, and then we all amplify it. We definitely have a shared taste. Our last show also featured designs by Miss September Rose (Miranda Ljung & Ava Trent), Skank Chic (Mary-Joyce Mcfarland), alongside our very own Emily Eshoo, as well as handmade G-String thongs by Dani Threads (Daniella Nunez).

What’s a rule you love breaking?

What rules?

What’s a misconception about burlesque that you hope the G strings are putting to rest?

We just want people to know what burlesque is. We have burlesque in our show but we’re not a burlesque troop. Burlesque and cabaret are such buzzwords right now because everyone’s obsessed with the aesthetic. Burlesque is under the umbrella of Vaudeville which is a historical variety show that included magic, contortion, comedy, sexual parody, drag, and dance.

Our understanding and appreciation of Vaudeville comes from our burlesque mother, Emily Shephard, a brilliant historian, performer, and visionary. Burlesque is a child of Vaudeville, informed by stripping. “Burlesque” is often a more digestible term than “stripping” because of classist implications. The reality is, burlesque has forever been enmeshed in sex work. The G-Strings are a matrix of so many worlds and teachers. Simultaneously, our freedom is found in disidentifying from labels and categories.

How do you want your fans to feel after a show?

We would love to leave people with an understanding of empowerment. For us, empowerment lies in two contradicting truths: you can find power through monetizing sex while also expressing nudity purely as form.

Your manifesto points to, “a refusal to sacrifice creative individualism.” How do you embody this?

“A refusal to sacrifice creative individualism" is our devotion to honor our voices beyond what makes us "bookable" or "successful," according to the industry. Within the pursuit of commercial dance, we always felt a resistance to being commodified, to becoming a voiceless vessel. There's this pressure that doesn't often make space for the multitude of artists. We are truly shapeshifters; one day we are designing lighting, the next making costumes, choreographing, and building a business. We have found so much autonomy in creating our own language and formula. There is relief in putting power into a space we have carved for one another. It is selfish and selfless.

What’s the sexiest place to dance?

In the extremes. Spotlights and Darkness.

Is there a moment in the show that feels especially sacred?

The moment when butterflies disappear, and we are able to be fully present with the audience. We love creating room for ourselves as performers to make spontaneous choices. There's this glimmer of presence when you are locked in with the audience in a moment of improvisation. That's part of why we always prioritize an immersive experience. The thinner the fourth wall, the more real everything feels.

To be specific, standout sacred moments include: spitting gum in people's mouths, knocking over drinks, unveiling the merkin, and screaming at ex-boyfriends.

If the G strings had 2 parents, who would they be?

Lady Gaga and Jo Calderone.

What’s next for you all?

Many more NYC shows and projects! 2026 world tour! Always remembering to love it!

Art

Ursula Dilley on Her NADA Debut and the Intimacy of Combat Sports

May 16, 2026

There can be a real beauty in two men beating the brakes off each other. That’s the central conceit of emerging artist Ursula Dilley’s debut exhibition, bloodlust, displayed at the NADA Art Fair through Sunday.

bloodlust focuses on capturing intimate moments between fighters at MMA matches. Dilley is also the visual director of the PRODUCE professional wrestling promotion, premiering their first show on June 29th. Dilley is partnered with Orange Crush, Adam Abdalla’s platform fusing combat sports with the art world. With aims to support the wrestling subculture as a whole, Orange Crush has staged exhibitions with Lee Moriarity and Thekla Kaischauri, the first active wrestlers to have their work displayed in the permanent collections of major museums.

bloodlust represents the latest step in Dilley and OC’s mission to not only humanize the athletes at the center of the matches, but to help legitimize them as artists in their own rights. In an industry that can view these fighters as nothing more than commercial assets, Dilley depicts them as triumphs of the human spirit, deserving of appreciation and love. While praising Dilley as profoundly honest, “critical and aware but not cynical,” Abdalla put the artistic mission in plain terms to me: “These categorial symbols of rebellion have been corporatized and sold for Slim Jim ads, and now it's time for the talent, the subculture and the streets to take them back.” I had the absolute pleasure of getting to interview Dilley after seeing her work displayed.

Words by Aidan O'Halloran

What's your relationship to combat sports? Is that a lifelong love or is it more recent?

You know, I saw UFC on TV as a kid and was immediately like, what is this? This is fascinating, exciting. I got more into watching MMA in the past 10 years. I had a friend who was already into it and told me some of the fighters’ backstories, and then I really fell in love and started watching all the fights and obsessing over my favorite fighters and their stories and the human drama of it. Then in the past couple of years, I met Adam through my friend Alice, and he took us to indie wrestling shows. And I hadn't grown up watching professional wrestling. I'd been tangentially aware of it, but had never seen it. My first experience at these live independent shows was so exciting. I’ve gone to two WrestleManias now. The [most recent] WrestleMania itself was a little disappointing, but the independent events around [WrestleMania weekend] were awesome. There are wrestlers from all over the world, like [Tokyo Joshi Pro Wrestling] and the luchadors. I've just been amazed that there's this thriving subculture that supports all these independent artists.

You teed up my next question— who's your favorite MMA fighter right now and why?

My favorite MMA fighter is one I’ve got conveniently on my shirt today! Islam Makchaev, probably the best in the world. He's just a horse girl like me, and a real silly goose. I love his sense of humor. I also love Khabib [Nurmagomedov], and I love the crazy energy that comes out of Dagestan. Obviously, they’re really good guys, too— it's been really fun to watch their careers. I’ve gone to a couple of [Makchaev’s] fights, and he’s both incredibly dominant and also silly. It’s really funny, there are these ridiculous and silly people who are also the most dangerous fighters in the world.

This is consensual violence with boundaries. It’s for its own sake, and I think it's really beautiful.

There are a lot of different perspectives on the artistic value of both MMA and wrestling. Some say it's performance art on par with ballet. Others point towards the pure athleticism required for the sport. Others pigeonhole it as light entertainment. What's your perspective? What do you see in your subject, and how do you link it to visual arts?

I think they are absolutely visual artists. They're up there with (to me) the purest form of art. It's like a celebration of human ideals, right? Human strength, human resilience. You know, I used to be a little bit ashamed. I had these liberal ideas imposed on me, ideas of violence as an inherently bad thing. But there's actually a time for everything, and this is consensual violence with boundaries. It’s for its own sake, and I think it's really beautiful— it inspires me to be more disciplined. These are the most disciplined people in the world, but they're not being appropriately taken care of and compensated, you know? There are complexities to engaging with it as a viewer, like everything under capitalism. But mixed martial artists are absolutely artists, and I really appreciate the work that they do.

So much of the MMA and wrestling space is occupied, if not monopolized, by [UFC and WWE parent company] TKO. There's been a larger discussion about them marginalizing the actual fighters, about fighter pay and exploitative contracts, like you just mentioned. They've been accused of trying to make the fighters replaceable, with the UFC brand serving as a star of the show. It sounded like an individual competitor. Would you say your art and its focal points are in conversation with that?

Absolutely. I mean, I couldn't even bring myself to draw the UFC logo in my drawings. That's why they say FUC, all over those things.

I noticed that!

Yeah, I was like, fuck them. Fuck Dana [White, CEO of UFC]. I don't even want to indirectly give any support to that organization, even though I love the fighters that are forced to work under those conditions. It's complicated. I would love to see some more competition, some better working conditions, better protection for fighters. They don't even have healthcare, you know— it's a really disgusting situation. It's complicated, but I love the sport.

Fuck them. Fuck Dana [White, CEO of UFC].

How do you find these very specific moments in a fight to depict?

These are moments that are absolutely burned in my brain from when they happened— I think about these moments all the time. They were transcendent and unforgettable. So, I have lots of screenshots! I have saved images, files, and folders of these. I'd love to get up closer and be able to take my own. I had really good seats at this last fight on Saturday in New Jersey, so we might do some drawings from my own photos of that fight. Joshua Van and [Tatsuro] Taira, that was really incredible.

The name of this exhibition is bloodlust. I'd argue that when depicting itself, MMA privileges moments of triumph. Images of champions holding up the belt, or near instant knockouts. Your work seems to gravitate more towards these moments of brutality and struggle. Is that intentional?

Yeah, maybe. It feels like moments of abandon. Like when Luke Rockhold was losing his last fight in the UFC, and then in the last 10 seconds, he’s on top of Paulo Costa. He’s smearing his broken-nose-blood all over Paulo's face, and Paulo's like laughing for a second. It was just one of the most insane, beautiful things I've ever seen. Even though he lost the fight, it was like poetry. And, yeah, that's a part of it too. It's not just winning and losing, you know? There's a performative aspect to it, and there's a poetry to it.

A recurring element in the work you have on display is the depiction of the fighters as having this kind of closeness with each other, even as they compete. There's almost a vulnerability, if not an intimacy, displayed there.

I joke, but there's an Onion post that’s, like, “girlfriend's favorite part of UFC is when the fighters hug." [Laughs.] But that's a real thing! They always cut to a commercial in the pay-per-views, because they get so pissed that these fighters would be embracing and touching each other's faces for, like, 10 minutes after the fight where they've just been trying so hard to break each other's skulls. There's no actual hate there in a lot of cases, it’s that these are people who respect each other, who are competing. And yeah, it is intimate. It's a really physical contest, but that’s not what an outsider might perceive.

You're a defiantly queer artist working in spaces that are often coded, rightly or wrongly, as conservative. For instance, the UFC is doing a show on the White House lawn soon. Does your perspective impact your approach, and do you even agree with that perception?

Yes, I heard someone referring to my stuff as MAGA-bait at the fair earlier, and I'm like, that's such an ignorant liberal take. I mean, it makes sense from an outsider who doesn't know that these are fighters from all over the world. You know, if they saw how the whole country of Myanmar is shut down next Saturday to celebrate Josh Van… no businesses are open. It's a global sport. And just because this one fascist organization has the monopoly on presenting it in the United States, that doesn’t entirely reflect the people who support the sport and the people who watch. And it certainly doesn't take away or reduce my love for it.

Art

Stone Island x Frieze by Reika Takebayashi

May 13, 2026

At large-scale art fairs, clothing usually exists to disappear. Staff uniforms are designed for functionality, neutrality, invisibility. But when Stone Island invited Reika Takebayashi to design the uniforms for Frieze, something quieter and stranger emerged instead. Takebayashi’s practice drifts somewhere between memory, geology, atmosphere, and hallucination. Her paintings and ceramics rarely depict landscapes directly; they feel more like emotional residues of places, unstable fragments suspended between reality and imagination. Translated onto clothing, those same sensibilities begin moving through space differently — no longer fixed to canvas or object, but absorbed into bodies, gestures, labor, circulation.

The collaboration also speaks to a broader collapse currently happening between fashion, art, and utility. Not the tired luxury-industrial crossover that dominates contemporary culture, but something more subtle: the idea that texture, atmosphere, and personal mythology can survive even within functional systems. That uniforms, too, can carry memory. That movement itself can become part of an artwork.

We spoke with Reika about imagined landscapes, touch, repetition, and what happens when art stops existing as an image and starts existing in motion.

Interview by Andriy Zozulya

Your work sits somewhere between real and imagined landscapes, it feels almost like memory that never actually happened. Are you trying to reconstruct something, or escape it?

I begin my work from landscapes I have experienced. Rather than simply reproducing what I see, I try to re-examine the atmosphere of a place and the layers of memory embedded within it from multiple perspectives, and to reconstruct a landscape on the canvas. I am less interested in reconstruction than in the process by which fragments of memory and landscape transform over time. By valuing the feeling of “something that seems real,” I believe this is a way of approaching reality.

You’re working with painting and ceramics, both very physical, material processes. How important is the idea of touch and texture in your practice?

It is very important. Touch and texture carry information that cannot be captured by vision alone, giving a sense of time, weight, and resistance to the work. Like clouds in the sky, ripples on water, or peeling paint on a wall, the natural world is full of abstract phenomena that never repeats itself. By finding scenes within them, I feel that our sensibilities are shaped along the way.

When worn, the work is no longer fixed, but changes along with movement and environment. I see this as a kind of extension.

Designing staff uniforms with Stone Island means your work becomes something people wear, move in, and work in. Does it lose something in that translation, or does it gain a different kind of life?

Rather than losing something, it feels like a shift into a different context. When worn, the work is no longer fixed, but changes along with movement and environment. I see this as a kind of extension.

Uniforms usually erase individuality, but your work is very personal and intuitive. Did you try to resist that, or lean into it?

Instead of being completely uniform, I hope subtle differences emerge depending on the person who wears it.

Your work often explores natural phenomena and imagined landscapes, where do these worlds originate from for you?

They originate from memories of landscapes and natural phenomena I have observed, which gradually merge and transform over time.

More broadly, how do you see the relationship between art, function, and everyday use in this kind of collaboration?

I see art, function, and everyday life not as separate, but as continuous. In this kind of collaboration, I find interest in how those boundaries gradually dissolve.

Frieze Week returns to The Shed in Hudson Yards of New York. From May 13th-17th, browse over 65 galleries spanning 26 countries and discover today's most compelling artist within New York's vibrant and irreplaceable art scene spirit.

Art

Putting the Woman Back in Womanizer

"Womanizer" - a word visually literally dominated by “woman”, yet by definition focused on a male character, defining how males manipulate multiple women for sexual gain - is an accurate notion of the patriarchy which Capozzi dismantles through her work. She takes back this word and through her redefinition, Womanizer solely focuses on what it means to be female, both challenging and leaning into societal standards. Her lawless compositions find celebrities juxtaposed against the mundane, suburbanites against the surreal. Her art clashes absurdity and elegance, naturalism and idealism. These pairings work to disrupt the legacy of the male gaze and in place establish the female point of view. Her involvement to create dreamlike, spontaneous, feminine worlds uplift the raw, fierce, and playful emotions that exist innately and uniquely underneath the structured and polite female persona.

The exhibition will include eight large scale prints and a series of eight unique polaroids featured in the book. The opening reception and book signing on May 14th will run from 5-8 p.m. at 113 Eldridge St, New York, NY 10002. Womanizer will stay open to view during the same hours until the 23rd, with the book available for purchase.