The tiny Michigan town I was raised in had 2,000 people and one traffic light. The spark for my future was my mum’s best friend’s antique shop, with all its treasures. It paved the way for everything, even my burlesque shows.
I was so quiet and shy in school that I was sent to a speech class. I was nervous and insecure. The teachers used to pronounce my birth name Heather Sweet as Heather Sweat, which didn’t help.
Confidence came later when I dyed my blonde hair red, then black, started wearing dramatic makeup and corsets, and experimenting with fetish modelling. That’s when I started building Dita Von Teese.
Growing up, my parents struggled to make ends meet and I felt like a burden. From the age of 12, I had no financial support from my family.
I always worked. A lingerie store at 15, a flower shop, then later the strip clubs. I loved making money, not being reliant on anyone, being able to support myself.
Dancing in LA strip clubs in my late teens and early 20s was empowering. No cameras and no one could touch you. It felt like a fun, frivolous space to be objectified. That’s not always such a bad thing. Someone in my family challenged me on it and I replied: “Are you putting me through college? I didn’t think so.”
On and off stage, I’m both Heather and Dita. When I’m performing, I let people see the girl from that small Michigan farming town. There is no alter ego. The only thing I modify is my appearance, but the person I am inside remains the same.
My wedding [to Marilyn Manson] felt like a show. It was a fun party, and I loved gathering family and friends, but the whole day was a performance. I felt really uncomfortable. I don’t feel the need to ever do it again.
If I’m ordering a coffee in Starbucks, I say my name is Mae West. It’s easier for all involved.
I’ve always been interested in the fetishistic – the rare and the unusual. I like corsetry, opera-length leather gloves and perilously high heels; hand-sewn, seamed stockings, girdles and garter belts. I’m drawn to things from another era, that’s what flicks my switch.
After the LA fires I’m thinking of moving to Britain. I know the weather’s not great, but I love the green space and the quiet. I can see myself living in the English countryside.
I have a stuffed tiger at home, plus a couple of peacocks and a flamingo. My whole taxidermy collection is antique, they all died of natural causes.
There’s just one white wall left in my Hollywood home, and I don’t like it. I want character, colour and drama, not modern, neutral and plain. Ripping out a beautiful tiled bathroom and replacing it with something minimalist enrages me.
Find people who share your interests, or at least be brave enough to tell your partner you’re into something that’s unusual. I love it when I meet people who are open about what they want, as long as it’s consensual, of course.
I’ll continue doing burlesque as long as I’m enjoying it and people want to see me. I’m 52, and my Las Vegas show is still sold out four nights a week, 100 shows a year. The universe will decide when I stop, whether I like it or not.
Diamonds & Dust at London’s Emerald Theatre runs into September, diamondsxdust.com
Photograph by Pal Hansen
