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Ep. 6: Lisa Lottie - 19 Years of Hooping

(Approx. 22-minute read · Perfect for your next tea break ☕)

When I first discovered hula hooping, I was 21 and working as a hairdresser at a festival in Ireland called Pamper Palace. It was a little pop-up salon where festival goers could come in for a wash and blow-dry to freshen up.

I’d been hairdressing since I was 16. It was my very first job — my older brother, who was like a father figure to me after my mum separated when I was young, was determined I’d start working as soon as I could. He helped me write up a CV and sent me around Blackrock handing them out.

My first interview was for Vero Moda, a clothing shop in the old shopping centre. I was so nervous that my brother even helped me rehearse what I’d say. But when I finally sat down with the manager, I completely froze — I couldn’t find the words, and I didn’t get the job. I felt a bit defeated, until my brother gently pushed me to try again.

A few days later, I walked into Toni & Guy in Blackrock — a busy, loud, slightly chaotic salon with hair flying everywhere. A woman with short hair ran up to me mid-shift, asked a few questions on the spot, and before I knew it, I was hired. I started the very next day.

I always wanted to do something creative, and at that time, hairdressing felt like the perfect outlet. That is, until one day at that festival, outside the Pamper Palace tent, I saw a young woman hula hooping. She had a sign beside her that said “Free Hula Hoop Lessons.” I was intrigued. On my break, I went over and asked if I could try.

The first time I picked up the hoop, it stayed up — she looked at me and said, “Wow, you’re a natural!” And that was it. I was hooked.

After the festival, I went home and started researching everything I could about hula hooping. I typed into Google: hula hoop dance. And that’s when I found Lisa Lottie.

She blew me away — so graceful, like a tiny blonde pixie fairy spinning hoops on the streets. Then I found her TED Talk, and that sealed it. I knew, right then, that this was what I wanted to do.

So for this episode, I caught up with Lisa Lottie — the artist who unknowingly started it all for me.

Early Days

Jess: Lisa, can you tell us a bit about where you’re from and how you first discovered circus or performing?

Lisa: I, like many other hoopers, didn’t start as a kid and wasn’t very physically inclined or confident with any sports or performance or anything like that. I lived in Brighton in the UK when I was 21 and, off the cuff, I got a role as a background extra for a music video starring Angie Mack — my personal hoop muse. I’d never seen anyone hula hoop, let alone like that. I left the set with my very own hula hoop that day and, for the first time ever, found myself really enjoying a physical skill. I just loved it — I could not put it down. I did some classes with Angie and she helped me score my first gig: a contract with a traditional circus in India — a ‘soft landing,’ if you will, into the industry. lol.

I joined the circus in 2006 thinking I would just give it a go — that’s 19 years ago now, and I’m still bloody doing it. I just really took to performing. I love being on stage. The hoops just gave me a reason to be there.

Jess: Did you grow up around performance, or was circus something you found later in life?

Lisa: So as previously mentioned, no. I’m from a bog-standard working-class family. I always loved art and theatre, but never in a million years did I think it was gonna be me doing it.

Jess: What was it about hula hooping that drew you in compared to other circus disciplines?

Lisa: At first it was really the only thing I knew, and because I was good at it I just zoned in on it so much. But I’ve tried everything over time — I did aerial for years! But hoops are just so easy logistically. You can hoop anywhere, on any-sized stage, you don’t need anyone, no rigging, it’s fairly safe — it’s the perfect skill for an introvert. The amount of times I am at a gig and I survey the situation and in my head I say, “Thank god I’m not an aerialist!”

Jess: One of the first videos I saw of you was your TED Talk — it was so inspiring to watch. How did that opportunity come about, and what was it like sharing your story on such a big stage?

Lisa: I’m still not 100% sure how it came about other than an email in my inbox one day with the offer to come to New York and do it. I’m guessing it’s all down to that video on the London South Bank that went viral back in the day. Come to think of it, that video is the backbone of my career — I should really thank the person who posted it!

I absolutely shat myself on the day of my talk. I was terrified. I’d been working on the presentation for so long, and I was in a squabble with a circus company at the time who I needed leave from to actually do the project, and they were upset that I had to go and do it because I needed four days off. I’ve always been terrible at saying no, but I did quit the company so I could do the talk, and to this day I am happy that I did.

Being surrounded by people who all did tech, education, and business at the TEDx event felt a little surreal, but they let me close the night and it was super fun. There are a lot of things I would change about that talk if I got an opportunity to do it again. But then again, you tell me next time you hear of anyone with the attention span to watch a 17-minute video.

Training & Flexibility

Jess: I remember when I was training in China, I was determined to get that beautiful standing split you always do — I managed it a few times but didn’t commit enough for it to really stick. How did you develop that level of flexibility? Was it something that came naturally, or did you really have to work for it?

Lisa: Oh heck no, I’m not naturally flexible at all — I originally was actually more flexible on my opposite leg, but that was also my best balancing leg, so I just made the choice to switch it at some point and completely managed to swap over which side was more flexible. I honestly put years and years into that trick and even then, I think I performed it for five years before I could say I actually got confident performing it.

That’s the other thing — you can train as long as you want, but how do those skills come to you on three hours of sleep, after a 12-hour flight, with jet lag and a bump-in where everything went wrong and they only gave you six minutes of tech time because you’re “just a hula hooper”? Can you do it then?

I trained backbends and back flex for fifteen years before I decided that the answer to the end of that sentence would always be a “no.” I still love training that for general health and fun, but I’ve let go of the idea of gaining those skills for work. And honestly, that feels so good!

Jess: How often do you need to train to stay in performance shape — and what does a typical training day look like for you?

Lisa: These days it’s all about rehab, rehab, rehab — unless I’m making a new act or something, then I might go back into skills mode. But if I’m honest, I barely train my hoop skills outside of warm-up anymore these days. I’m 40 now and the vast majority of my training time is focused on making sure my body doesn’t fall apart, so I actually do straight-up regular gym workouts more than any skills. I just work on weight loading all my joints so I have enough muscle to keep everything together! That, and I don’t skip Pilates for a day. Weights, Pilates, stretch — that’s it, to be honest! Oh, and handstands! I do handstands every day! Literally never enough to make any reasonable progressions, but I don’t have the patience for proper hand balance work. As long as I can do my acts, that’s good enough for me.

Jess: Now at 35, I’m feeling re-inspired and motivated to get my middle and front splits back. I’ve been using the StretchIt app — I swear I’m not getting commission for saying that! — but I love it. Do you follow any particular flexibility plan, or do you have your own go-to routine that you repeat?

Lisa: Ooo, that sounds good! I think with passive stretching specifically it can be quite dangerous to just keep stretching if you’re not working on strength at the same time. I love, love, LOVE how the internet has made intense stretching so much more accessible for everyone. I use Instagram a lot to find new active flex exercises, and I do tend to incorporate them into my daily routine. It’s alllll about active flex.

I also have the best physio in the world who keeps me on my toes and loves to point out all my weaknesses — so then my sole focus of training becomes to get her to tell me I did “good.” I guess I’m still a sucker for that old-school way of training.

Jess: I remember you trained at the National Centre for Circus Arts — back when it was still called Circus Space before it got all fancy! How did you hear about the school, and what was the audition process like for you? Do you think it’s important to attend a school like this, or is it possible to achieve your level of skill being self-taught?

Lisa: Honestly? Circus Space / National Centre for Circus Arts SUCKED. Write it in, put it in the SEO, don’t have people waste their money on that sorry excuse for an institution. Unless you have your eyes on a specific coach who works there and teaches the skills you really want to learn to a decent professional level, don’t go there.

They treated me like shit when I got there, told me I would only ever do hula hooping professionally and that I would never be good at anything else. They trashed my confidence into the ground on a daily basis and made me feel like I was so lucky to be there — despite not being able to provide me with a good hula hooping coach, and then ALSO not letting me work on a different discipline.

All they had in mind for me was to incorporate an endless amount of contemporary dance into my hoop work, which was the opposite of what I wanted to do, and no matter what I said they never, ever listened. I believe to this day they still tell artists to focus on a single discipline only, while it’s literally impossible to survive in the industry if you only have one skill.

Circus Space / NCCA / National Centre for Circus Arts London (for the SEO ;) ) gave me an eating disorder and crushed my confidence, and I’ve probably spent as much on therapy to overcome that as I have on tuition fees.

If you want professional training in a specific discipline, find a coach who can teach you and pay them directly. I coach several students around the world now and I teach them EXACTLY what my school never could. You can literally ask your favourite artists — and now we have Zoom, as long as you don’t need physical adjustments you can learn so many things just with a computer! Of course, this doesn’t work for so many disciplines, but for some (like hula hoops!!!) it does — so if that one is yours, I’d say don’t waste your money on a shitty circus school.

Performing & Touring

Jess: You’ve performed all over the world — from festivals to big stages — can you remember one of your very first shows? What was that experience like stepping out in front of an audience as a solo artist?

Lisa: My very first shows ever were with the trad circus in India. The first one ever was for the opening of their “brand new show featuring the first ever Europeans to perform in a circus in India,” in front of thousands of people and every single news outlet in Mumbai. I was so nervous I’m pretty sure I puked in my mouth, and I had a nerve in my cheek that would twitch uncontrollably. I was terrified. But we did three shows a day, seven days a week, so I ended up getting used to it all pretty quickly. That’s still my best advice to overcome nerves: get yourself out in front of people as often as you can. Focus on your audience, not yourself. ❤️

Jess: Was there a particular gig or moment in your career where you felt like, “Okay, this is it — I’ve made it”?

Lisa: I’ve thought about this a lot, because when you are younger you always have these dream gigs or goals. But over the years I’ve learnt that really, none of the dream gigs ever make you feel any better about yourself if you only value yourself by the type of gig that you do. I’ve done every gig I’ve ever dreamt of, and I’ve never woken up the next day feeling like I was now a changed person or suddenly “worthy.”

The amount of tables I’ve sat at with circus artists pushing food around their plate, asking each other which shows they’ve worked on to decide how to value their dining neighbour as a person — it’s so boring. When I look back on my whole career, I had clearly made it when I was a 21-year-old little girl who lived in a tent next to the elephants in a trad circus in India with four other white circus artists who all hated me because I was the only one who was a beginner but had somehow gotten the job anyway.

Even though I was a beginner, even though I was shit — I had made it. I was earning a living from performing my craft. What can be more “making it” than that? ❤️

If you judge yourself by the type of gigs that you get, that’s a surefire way to live in hell. And if you are not getting the type of gigs you see yourself doing, you need to start making the shows yourself. If you wait for the perfect opportunity, you will die on that hill — sad and lonely, with all your skills in your pockets. ❤️

Jess: Touring life looks so glamorous on social media, but it can also be exhausting. How do you take care of yourself physically and mentally when you’re constantly travelling and performing?

Lisa: Lol. Doesn’t everything look great on Instagram? I flew from Scotland to Australia last week, got food poisoning as soon as I got home, and then had to stay in bed for three days before I did my laundry, repacked my bags, and went back to the airport to get on another five-hour flight to stay in a shitty hotel, wake up at 7am, and get to a gig that I wanted everything but to actually do.

This life can be miserable beyond comprehension — don’t be fooled!!!! The absolute most important thing over anything else is getting enough sleep. I have to prioritise sleep over literally anything, because without it I’m dead. Sleep, as healthy as the environment allows, food-wise, and doing appropriate warm-ups next.

And making sure that whatever I am performing, I am as prepared as possible — knowing my material back to front — because the last thing I have energy for is stress about the actual performance. Then when I get home, I need three days in bed with my cat. The amount of recovery I give myself is huge. If I feel like I need to stay in bed for a full day, I don’t even bat my eyelids about it. I do what my body tells me.

Reflection & Advice

Jess: You’ve been performing for many years now — looking back, what do you think has kept you going through the highs and lows of this career?

Lisa: Good question. I think a big part of it is actually habit. I definitely got to a point where I was like, “I just can’t ever imagine not doing this anymore,” and then I just kept going. But also, I think I should note, so much of my job isn’t about just hula hooping anymore.

When I do my full show, most of it is comedy now — the hooping part is just ten minutes of it — and I spend so much time writing on the comedy material, or making new acts, or writing new skits. I think if I had kept focusing only on the skills alone, I would have died of boredom a decade ago.

So I think it’s that — constantly chipping away at new bits, new jokes, finding ways to relate to my audience. We live in a world divided, and it feels like a real privilege to bring a room together on the same page with a joke or some silliness. I definitely get a totally different rush from laughter than I do from straight-up applause. I think I’ll pick laughter every time — and I think that’s what keeps me going.

Jess: Circus and hooping can be such a rollercoaster — physically, emotionally, and financially. What advice would you give to artists who are just starting out and dream of making this their full-time path?

Lisa: I’m not gonna lie, I think it’s harder now than it was when I was young. Opportunities are rarer. It seems like all the young performers that are doing well are doing that with the help of social media, and being a content creator is legitimately another job on top of a circus career. I think it’s exhausting.

You are only going to succeed in this industry if you can get yourself onto stage frequently, so make sure that if no one gives you that gig, you create it yourself. For me that was street performing. Also, don’t feel like if you need a secondary job you are a “failure.” You do what you need to do in order to survive. I think Chappell Roan was still a barista in 2021. Think of Chappell. 💖

Jess: Do you have any future plans or projects you’re excited about? Or do you feel happy and content continuing to perform and stay in the spotlight for now?

Lisa: I’m currently really just chipping away at gigs till October 2026, which will be my 20th-year hula hooping anniversary. I’m determined to make it till then — what comes next, I don’t know yet!!

Jess: And lastly — our Bubble Bum Banter signature question — if you had to choose: Velvet or Stripes?

Lisa: STRIPES! No question about it! I love my Bubble Bum striped jogger sets!!

Outro

Wow. What an incredible conversation. Reading through Lisa’s answers, I feel like this episode really wraps up something she touched on earlier — that idea of wanting another chance at her TED Talk. But in a way, she’s already living that second chance by coming on here and sharing her story with such honesty. It’s been ten years since that talk, and she’s sharing the wisdom she’s gained since — everything she’s experienced, learned, and lived through.

She’s followed her dream, travelled the world, and seen the circus industry for what it really is — the beauty, the grit, and everything in between.

And it’s true — circus school isn’t always the answer. Like Satya Bella said in her episode, everyone finds their own path, and Lisa’s path proves that. She got into a school, she did the training, but in hindsight, she feels it was a huge waste of money — and even damaging in ways that took years to heal.

When we’re young, we look up to our teachers and mentors like they’re our superiors, believing every word they say. We don’t question it. We think, they must know what’s best for me. But sometimes those same voices can project their own insecurities onto us. Lisa spoke honestly about developing an eating disorder during her time in school, and I could completely relate.

When I trained in China, my mentor would help me stretch, pushing me deeper while poking my belly and saying, “Beautiful legs,” then again, “No, no, no,” as she pointed to my stomach. We didn’t share much language, but body comments need no translation. I remember shrinking under that kind of attention — and when I lost weight, suddenly I was too skinny. It was confusing, painful, and it took years to realise: that was never about me. It was about them.

As students or artists, we often take those comments as truth, because we don’t always realise that authority doesn’t equal wisdom. Sometimes, what gets passed down is just hurt that hasn’t healed — and this doesn’t only happen to young artists. People of any age can find themselves in environments where someone in a position of power projects their insecurities onto others.

So if anyone reading this — of any age — is going through something similar, whether in circus school or any artistic environment, I hope you reach out for support. Talk to someone outside the space. A therapist, a friend, anyone grounded. Because our thoughts can run wild under pressure, and it’s so important to remember that our thoughts are not truth. Sometimes we think or feel something so strongly that it feels like fact — but it’s not fact. Without the right coping tools or a safe place to process what’s happening, those thoughts can spiral and grow into anxiety, disordered eating, or other patterns that take years to unlearn.

Lisa’s story, to me, is a reminder of self-trust — that art isn’t just about what you perform, but about how you see your own journey. We can get so caught up in chasing the dream job, the perfect company, or that one gig we think will finally make us “enough.” We attach our worth to where we are, who we’re performing for, or how big the stage is.

But she’d already “made it” when she did her very first show — performing in a circus tent in India, living beside elephants, terrified but doing it anyway. That’s the moment that gives me goosebumps. Because that is what it really means to make it.

It’s not about arriving somewhere. It’s about recognising that you’re already living the thing you once dreamed about — and allowing yourself to feel proud of that.

Lisa also said that if she hadn’t started mixing things up by adding humour and comedy into her work, she would have died of boredom ten years ago. It’s such a great reminder that this path isn’t always about adding another trick. If you already have beautiful skills and still feel stuck, maybe it’s time to step back and see the bigger picture — to find new ways to fall in love with what you do again.

For her, that’s meant writing, comedy, and creating her own skits. Even though hula hooping will always be her main discipline, it’s now just one part of a much bigger show — one that keeps evolving because she keeps evolving with it.

Sometimes we get tunnel vision with training — chasing that one move, drilling the same sequences, trying to “perfect” something that’s already enough. But Lisa shows that art can grow in many directions — through curiosity, play, and genuine connection with the people watching. She keeps finding new ways to make them laugh, to make them feel something.

And maybe that’s the heart of it — caring as much about what your audience experiences as you do about what you’re performing.

Sending love, velvet, and stripes,
Jess <3 x