It started with a crab.

Specifically, it started with Clawdette the Autophagic Crab — a burlesque character so weird and so beloved that she needed a two-and-a-half-foot stick of butter as a prop. That butter’s name is Large Marge. She has appeared in more acts than I can count. She is, genuinely, one of the most important objects in my life.

I’m Juni Beurre Amie. I used to be Juniper Sprinkles — a perfectly good name — until COVID happened and I became someone slightly different on the other side of it. The butter stuck. The name followed. And somewhere in the process, a brand was born.

Here’s the honest version of how House of Beurre happened: last year I burned out hard. I’d spent years as a transaction processor — good at it, well-compensated, completely hollowed out by it. This is actually my fourth career. Before transactions there was food service (pastry chef, line cook, middle school kitchen manager — yes, really). Before that, customer service. Before that, I managed and trained horses. I’ve always been good at the work in front of me. I’ve also always been a maker — crocheting, embroidering, crafting things into existence since before I can remember.

And I’ve always been performing. I took my first burlesque class in 2017 with zero experience acting, dancing, or stripping, and created an act about BDSM, President Trump, and Sean Spicer for my student showcase debut. (It was 2017. We were all coping.) Since then I’ve built a repertoire that spans foodlesque, draglesque, nerdlesque, queerlesque, Indigelesque, and at least six other genres I probably invented. I’ve competed at festivals across the Southwest, won awards I’m genuinely proud of, and founded The Freudian Slips Experience — a burlesque collective I produce with some of the most talented weirdos in Albuquerque.

The marketing piece? That’s been mine since the beginning too. My first real marketing job was at 21 — I built and ran the first Instagram and Facebook accounts for a feed, western wear, and tack store I was working at. I’ve been doing my own ever since.

So when burnout finally won and I needed to reframe everything, I looked at what I actually had: a performing career people responded to, handmade work people wanted, marketing skills that were genuinely useful, and a butter prop with her own fan club.

House of Beurre is the umbrella I built to hold all of it.

The Ami Stage is where Juni Beurre Amie and drag king Edam Ami perform, teach, and take bookings. Beurre-fection Arts is where the handmade work lives — crochet, upcycled wearables, theatrical props, and limited drops. Bread n’ Butter is the marketing and branding studio, built specifically for artists and small businesses who need to look as good as their work actually is.

The goal — and I’m just going to say it plainly — is a life full of hobbies, some of which pay the bills.

Welcome to the House. Large Marge is already here. She’s been waiting.

— Juni 🧈