Alex ''Scratch'' Newman of the Boston Babydolls burlesque troupe, in the Billings Road building where the group wants to open a Quincy dance studio.
(Tom Herde for The Boston Globe)
The Boston Babydolls thought they'd found their new home when they leased an empty dance studio in North Quincy last year. But members of the quirky burlesque dance troupe say they have received a chilly reception from Quincy city officials.
Seven months have passed, and they are still waiting for the OK from City Hall to open. The studio's occupancy permit has been revoked. And their plan to set up shop has come under heavy criticism by Ward 6 City Councilor Brian F. McNamee, who accuses the group of "creating a Combat Zone in an immigrant neighborhood."
The Boston Babydolls say they just want to open a dance studio - not a red-light district nightclub - and hope to get the green light from city officials when they appear before the Zoning Board of Appeals on April 21.
"We just wanted a place where we could rehearse, and a place to store our stuff. We have lights, props - the same things any other small theater company has," said the troupe's business manager, Alex Newman, who goes by the name of Scratch.
The Boston Babydolls also wanted to offer dance classes at the studio, and not just for burlesque. They planned to bring in instructors to teach different forms of dance, including classical, tap, and belly-dancing. The lessons would be private and open only to paying customers, according to Newman, and they never planned to hold public performances there.
"It would be a benefit to the Greater Boston performing arts community, and this community," he said. "But [city officials] think we're going to open some combination of a strip club and a bordello."
The point of contention is the space at 37 Billings Road. Located in a business district off Hancock Street, an area of North Quincy known as Norfolk Downs, the studio was previously used as a dance and fitness center. The faded pastel-colored awning above the door still reads "BodyFit - Fitness Center With Women In Mind."
The neighborhood is home to many Asian immigrants, and many families.
"My constituents work long hours, many of them have language problems. . . . This is identical to how those businesses got a foothold" in Boston, McNamee said. "The Combat Zone started out with innocent burlesque, and then the next thing you know, there's striptease, prostitutes, drugs, and pimps."
The Boston Babydolls studio is "at odds with the character of that neighborhood," he said. "For me as the ward councilor, it's about preserving the character of that neighborhood."
McNamee keeps track of the businesses in this section of North Quincy. The latest additions include a check-cashing business, a tattoo parlor, a body-piercing shop, a liquor store, and a massage parlor, he said.
"You know, the next thing we need is a head shop. And then how about an S&M leather goods shop?" he asked. "Can you see the direction we're going in? I don't mean to be cynical here . . . but this is a fragile neighborhood."
The Boston Babydolls said they chose the location because the rent is affordable, there is parking, and it is accessible to public transportation. The group has been leasing it since last September, and has spent about $10,000 on renovations, permit applications, and legal fees.
In November, the Quincy Zoning Board of Appeals denied their application for a business permit. In December, they received a letter from Quincy building commissioner Jay Duca, stating that the occupancy certificate was revoked, and "it is unlawful to offer live dancing without a valid license."
The Boston Babydolls argue that they just want to operate the same kind of business that was there before: a dance studio.
"We've tried to explain a number of times what we're doing," said Miss Mina, who cofounded the group four years ago and did not want her real name published. "It's a place to rehearse and teach classes, and a place for other people to rehearse and teach classes."
"We're not sleazy," she said. "There is no nudity,"
The Boston Babydolls' members are young, professional, college-educated women in their 20s and 30s, and they all use stage names. They wear retro costumes and employ such dance as bumping, grinding, swinging, shimmying, foot stomping, and tassel twirling.
Miss Mina, for example, does a classic fan dance in the style of Sally Rand, who rose to stardom in the 1920s. The way Miss Mina moves fans around her body can give the appearance she might not be wearing anything, but it's all an illusion.
"It's good sleight of hand," said Newman, who describes the group's performances as "PG-13."
The fan base consists mainly of artists and young professionals, and the group has performed in venues ranging from Boston nightclubs to the Coolidge Corner Theatre to the Cambridge Family YMCA to the Beauty Bar in Las Vegas.
The group also has offered women-only dance classes with catchy names like "Instant Burlesque Queen" and "You and Your Boa." But they are not teaching people to become strippers, Miss Mina insisted.
"My students are looking for some fun, usually come with friends," she said. "It's good exercise, a fun afternoon out."
Quincy resident Alda Lyons, whose daughter is a Babydolls member, said she hopes the city will allow the studio to open.
"It's not going to draw a bad crowd," said the 61-year-old Lyons. "I think the neighborhood is overreacting, associating burlesque with men's drinking bars, pole-dancing, and all that. They don't understand what it is. This is totally different. It's more like vaudeville. There's more class to the dancing. There's usually a comedy skit associated with it.
"It isn't like Quincy hasn't had that in the past," she said, maintaining that the nearby Wollaston Theatre was originally a vaudeville venue. (Built in 1926 and known to locals as "The Wolly," it was turned into a single-screen movie house in the 1930s. The theater, which is listed on the National Register of Historic Places, has been closed since 2003 and is now for sale.)
Lyons's sentiments were echoed by her daughter, who goes by the stage name Miss Honey Do and also did not want her real name published.
"I find it shocking that in the midst of a recession, this councilor would rather have an empty storefront instead of a business that would bring in people from other communities to shop and eat and work . . .," she said. "We're not women of ill repute that would bring the level of the city down. We're dancers looking for rehearsal space."
Emily Sweeney can be reached at esweeney@globe.com. ![]()



