Feathers, sequins, rhinestones. Theatrical dances and big vocals. Charisma that hypnotizes. That’s a showgirl. And that’s the aesthetic Taylor Swift referenced that she would explore in her 12th album, The Life of a Showgirl. As noted by critics, the LP’s sound didn’t quite deliver on its glittering premise, leaving fans wanting the theatrical spectacle the title suggested. But while Swift theorizes about showgirl life in studios, Rita Cadillac has been living it since the 1970s. At 71, the Brazilian singer, dancer, and actress is a national icon who became one of TV personality Chacrinha’s chacretes, the dancers who defined an era of Brazilian television. And now, the showgirl is back: Cadillac, alongside artists like Karol G and Gloria Groove, is reclaiming the spotlight with the glamour, theatricality, and unapologetic sensuality that made her a legend.
The showgirl aesthetic is having a moment. Karol G has embraced the Tropicana-style spectacle in her new era. Gloria Groove, one of Brazil’s biggest drag and pop stars, channeled this legacy directly, blending the theatrical excess of drag with the sensual confidence of showgirls past, creating performances that are equal parts cabaret, pop concert, and pure entertainment. Both artists understand what Cadillac has always known: being a showgirl isn’t just about looking glamorous, it’s about owning every inch of the stage and commanding attention without apology.
The chacretes were a troupe of dancers who performed on Chacrinha, one of Brazil’s most popular variety shows from the 1960s through the 1980s. Named after host Abelardo Barbosa, aka Chacrinha, these women became cultural phenomena in their own right, embodying the vibrant, irreverent spirit of Brazilian pop culture during the military dictatorship era. With their elaborate costumes, synchronized choreography, and magnetic stage presence, the chacretes weren’t just backup dancers; they were stars who helped define what it meant to be a showgirl in Brazil, influencing generations of performers and becoming symbols of joy and resistance.
“The vedette did teatro de revista [revue theatre] in the 1950s. The chacrete came later, but on television,” Cadillac tells Remezcla. She came from a classical ballet background and planned to stay on the show for only three months. “Suddenly, I landed in this crazy, insane, but fun show that was Brazil’s joy.” Ten years later, she was still there. “Everything I know about television, I learned from Chacrinha. Today, he’d be totally canceled. But back then, his craziness was normal.”
To understand Rita Cadillac, born Rita de Cássia, you need to understand Chacrinha’s show. Airing between 1965 and 1988, the show was pure chaos: live music, a hysterical audience, and even fights between guests. At the center were the chacretes. They were more than dancers as they embodied a new kind of Brazilian showgirl: exuberant, accessible, irreverently sexy. Unlike the more distant and aristocratic vedettes of the teatro de revista, they brought sensuality into the living rooms of the average Brazilian household through open TV. They were aspirational figures for many working-class girls, representing not only beauty and desire but also a pathway to visibility, agency, and in rare cases, social mobility.
Cadillac built her career through talent, charisma, and strategy. “To stand out, I had to do something different,” she says about performing with 19 other women. When everyone made circular motions to signal commercial breaks, “I said, ‘Ok, I’ll just do it with my little finger.’ Like, ‘The hot one here is me.’” It was pure theater, she admits. “There were much prettier girls. But I had to create that character.”
The routine was brutal. She’d arrive at the set at 9 a.m. and go straight to rehearsal, running through all the acts. She barely had time to eat something, since she had to do her makeup and hair, get dressed, and hit the stage thereafter. “During commercial breaks, there wasn’t even time to pee,” she adds. But outside the studio, it didn’t stop. “Many times we’d leave the studio and do shows at steakhouses, agricultural fairs, town festivals,” she explains. She also performed in unlikely places, like the Carandiru Penitentiary Complex in São Paulo, which housed over 7,000 inmates, or Serra Pelada, a mining area in northern Brazil, where she was “the only woman among 60,000 men.”
In 1983, Cadillac left Chacrinha’s show to pursue a music career. Her debut LP, Merenguedê, featured the track “Baby Love,” marking her transition from dancer to recording artist. The following year brought her biggest hit, “É Bom para o Moral,” which cemented her status as a household name across Brazil. Though album sales were modest, her performances became legendary — particularly at Carandiru, where she won over thousands of inmates with the same fearless energy she brought to television screens.
Her music career reflected the same philosophy that guided her life as a chacrete: unapologetic self-expression. In the ’80s, when women in entertainment were expected to choose between respectability and sexuality, Cadillac refused the binary. She sang about pleasure, performed in unconventional venues, and later ventured into adult content — each move a declaration of autonomy over her own body and image. That autonomy, radical then, remains her legacy now. She learned self-preservation early. “Since childhood, I had to put up a shield. The only shield I always had is my face, my expression. Society is very hypocritical. I own my body. Nobody has authority over it. If I want to walk around naked, I will,” she says.
“Society is very hypocritical. I own my body. Nobody has authority over it. If I want to walk around naked, I will.”
What scandalized audiences in the ‘80s — a woman claiming full ownership of her sexuality and career — is what today’s artists like Karol G and Gloria Groove build entire brands around. The difference is context: Cadillac fought for that freedom when Brazil was emerging from dictatorship, when women’s bodies were still heavily policed, when a chacrete pursuing a solo career was seen as transgressive. Today’s showgirls inherit the space she helped create.
While Swift sings about empowerment to packed stadiums, Cadillac lives it. “At 71, I feel as good as I did at 30 physically. I sleep two hours a day, wake up early, go to work,” she says. When asked when she’ll stop, Cadillac is direct: “Only when I die. When I can no longer walk or speak. But otherwise, Rita will continue until 120 years old.”
