A Sunday Night with the G Strings
The unmissable dance group debuted their short film Dirty Cash and invited guests to consecrate the dance floor.
Photographer EM HIGGINS
It takes a special event to garner large swaths of downtowners on a chilly Sunday night in March. For the G Strings, the likelihood that hundreds of disciples wouldn’t run to Jean’s to watch their new short film was never a question.
“A revolution in pumps” is what the seven women behind the G Strings have led since meeting at different nightclubs, dance classes, and schools in the city. Frances Pine-Rinella, Julia Dipretoro, Emily Eshoo, Charlie Sue Birznieks, Chloe Terlingen, Roberta Lavalle, and Julia Padavona have created a movement of bodily autonomy and breathed new life into burlesque, all while having rapturous fun. After officially forming last summer and hosting two hit live performances at The Rosewood Theatre in the fall, the Dirty Cash screening was the latest peek into the beautifully shameless world of the G Strings.
Arriving at 7 p.m. sharp seemed like the only way not to be trampled by a swarm of stilettos and vintage minks, with doors at 8:00, the screening at 8:30, and a subsequent dance party with sets by Charlie Byrd and Aidan La Poche at 9:00. Thankfully, Bias Cut and friends were first in line. During that hour outside, we learned that one of the bouncers at Jean’s is also a family photographer. Who knew? After some small talk, he lifted the velvet rope at a crisp 8 p.m. to let the accumulated crowd file into the back of the restaurant for the screening.
The G Strings and the team at Jean’s ran the night on an exquisitely tight schedule, as Sunday nights are precious real estate when it comes to people’s time. After a brief period for the audience to settle in and the G Strings to welcome friends around the room, the lights were dimmed, and Dirty Cash was queued up. Frances and the gaggle of G Strings—dressed in bullet bras, nipple covers, and thongs made from fake cash—introduced the project. They explained that the short film was shot overnight last summer at a Bushwick laundromat, where they created a fantasy world mirroring their real lives. Standing at the front of the room, the women’s connection radiated even when they weren’t moving choreographically. They are walking fully in their truth; they are girls summoning the revolution.
Dirty Cash itself (directed by Edie Turquet) is three minutes of pure action squeezed into the length of the 1989 song “Dirty Cash (Money Talks)” by The Adventures Of Stevie V. All seven G Strings strut around the laundromat, throwing cash playfully into the dryer and at one point even launching themselves into the machines to perform a series of high kicks. Sartorially, each girl has her own flair, but when they come together to dance, their professionally trained synchronicity takes over to create a real spectacle. The video ended with clips of their voices spliced over the music as they walked out of the laundromat. The G Strings’ chemistry is magnetic, and their obvious love for each other and their social movement is what makes Dirty Cash a mesmerizing experience.
After an ecstatic round of applause, a second viewing, and a moment for the G Strings to come together and make it rain cash over the crowd, it was time for the second portion of the evening: the dance party. Though it has been a minute since I descended the cherry-lit stairs to Jean’s nightclub, as tequila soda-fueled nights brushing shoulders with finance bros to top 40 remixes haven’t been on the calendar. However, a G-Strings-hosted night of dancing will always be.
By the time the night found its full shape, the G Strings took the floor once again and delivered a performance that anyone would be a fool to miss. The crowd was filled with an eclectic mix of 2Hollis lookalikes, old Hinge dates, and even an ex from an overseas relationship. This all made for an adrenaline-filled dance floor, plenty of run-ins with acquaintances, and a surprising amount of shots taken for a Sunday. I myself gripped a goblet of red wine while navigating the scene. And the most wonderful thing about all of it? It was only 9:30 p.m. One might even say peeking into the glittery world of the G Strings was the best form of Sunday service.