Belly dancing becomes a career

Some people ask her if she's a goddess. Others want to know if she works at Caesars Palace. Little girls are sure she is Disney's Jasmine come to life.

Whenever Beneen Millner, 28, dons one of her belly dancing outfits, she is approached by lots of people. For her performances, Millner assumes the identity of "Farasha." Her stage name means "butterfly" in Arabic.

Though Millner has long dark hair and almond-shaped eyes, she is not Arabic. Nor has she ever been to the Middle East. But she said she's always felt a connection with ancient cultures of that area and her dancing is an extension of that.

She began belly dancing seven years ago. Now it's her career.

Millner moved to Las Vegas about a year ago, under contract with Desert Passage as one of their street performers. She still dances there on occasion and keeps busy with convention work. She also appears as "Farasha" each Friday, Saturday and Sunday at Romy's Café, 8565 W. Sahara Ave.

Her work takes her to Los Angeles six or seven times a year where she finds work in hip hop videos or does choreography. In her spare time, she gives private lessons (www.farashavegas.com).

Millner recently won the Belly Dance Superstars Star Search contest.

"This is not a sexual dance form," she said. "Some people think its bump and grind or stripping but this is a sensual dance, a woman's dance."

A woman's dance demands a woman's costume, so Millner has 10, all custom made. Her favorite is crafted of a gold material and trimmed with Egyptian fringe. Each costume runs between $400 and $1,000.

She forgoes the belly button jewel but does wear exotic makeup, similar to Elizabeth Taylor in the film epic "Anthony and Cleopatra."

"But I don't have a head dress quite that elaborate," she said. "If I tried to wear something like that, it would probably fly off as soon as I started dancing. And I try to wear jewelry light enough so when I twirl around I don't get hit in the eye."

Flying medallions and black eyes aside, her work includes other career pitfalls, such as men, particularly those who have had a little too much to drink. Millner makes avoiding their hands just another part of the dance.

Tips are appreciated, she said, but not if someone tries to stuff it in the wrong place. Under the shoulder strap or on the side of her belt is acceptable, thank you very much.

If the music moves someone, Millner will invite them to dance with her. If a couple is dining, she'll make more eye contact with the female than the date because "hey, it's a woman's dance."

After a performance, a quick stop at the market brings her just as much attention as if she's at work, even though she wears a cover up into stores. People are just naturally curious. After all, how many belly dancers do you see each day?

One could assume that, should her car ever break down while she's in costume, at least a zillion guys would stop to help.

Teddy Daginis, owner/operator of Romy's Café, said Millner makes a great addition to his restaurant's ambience.

"She's an excellent dancer and she has a good personality," he said. "She adds something special to the dining experience."

Millner grew up in Oxnard, Calif. Her father was an insurance salesman. Her mother, a quality inspector at a factory. Mom had a free-spirited side and took Millner along for hula lessons and introduced her to other cultures. Jazz and ballet lessons were near-constant activities for the growing girl.

After high school, Millner tried to fit into mainstream careers. She worked in an office, was a waitress for a time and tried retail sales.

One day, after moving to Boston, she was watching a morning talk show which had a belly dancer as that day's guest. Millner's eyes became glued to the set.

"I thought, 'I'd love to do that,' " she said. "It was like I'd found my calling."


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