Lapdancing advertising - great or disgusting?

I noticed that 2 girls were fined for 'defacing' a poster promoting Spearmint Rhino, which reminded me of a another poster incident last year, when Rhino were given a good spanking by the ASA for a 'Back to School' poster.
Even at 4am, as I sat in a smelly cab on my way home from my stripclub, it made me think - as a dancer, I want all the promotion for lapdancing clubs, their nights, prices, and how cool they are, as the industry can get.  It gets customers in through the door after all.  But is at a price of offending the general public, and is it promoting distasteful attitudes and morals?

Now, I don't know how I feel about the back 2 school poster, as I have a schoolgirl outfit myself and do very well in it, thankyou.   I also really like Spearmint Rhino - as a club, there are lots of fairly friendly girls, the bouncers and management are, well, they are never going to be friendly, as men who work in stripclubs almost always have an attitude problem, but they do have listening abilities and say hello, and don't sleep or pressurise the girls that I have heard of, so as stripclubs go, its not that bad....

But advertising a sexy schoolgirl night? It's an ad-campaign that will work, and get punters through the door, because the sexualisation of schoolgirls happens at club nights and fancy dress parties all over the country. But I agree with the ASA on this one - schoolgirls shouldn't be associated with the promotional material for mainstream stripclubs, that have massive posterboards spread all over the world.

In the other story, the poor two girls were CAUGHT MID-ACT (oh, honey, can't you be more of a street-smart feminist?) and fined £80 for scrawling 'WOMEN ARE NOT OBJECTS' on the posters advertising a new Leicester stripclub (again Spearmint Rhino).  Whilst this story was incredibly funny during my 4am journey home, I feel proud that there are still female activists out there that feel that lapdancing is a dehumanising industry, because, in sooooo many ways, it really is.  

I was a lapdancing activist last year, when a whole host of club management and strippers protested against new Government legislation that classified lapdancers as 'sex-workers'.  Waving a placard around and shouting slogans was great fun, and so my hat goes off to anyone who makes a stand - whether its for my industry or against it.

Just don't stop any punters walking through the doors, ok?  

The schoolgirl poster is one I definately recognise, and you can read about the story on my favourite Sunday paper, the Guardian's website here; http://www.guardian.co.uk/media/2010/nov/10/spearmint-rhino-poster-asa

The graffitied poster can be found on the good ol' Beeb website; http://cdnedge.bbc.co.uk/local/leicester/hi/people_and_places/newsid_9357000/9357750.stm

P.S. I always get worried when I provide direct links to websites, so if I have done an internet boo-boo please leave a comment and i will sharpen up my manners....

How to vogue whilst topless

Last night at my club was 80s night, so I got to strip off to some totally awesome tunes. In fact, I spent half my stage show singing along, albeit badly and with huge chunks of lyrics wrong or missing. Great thing is, the stage is so big no-one could hear anyway.....

I boogied to:
Madonna : en vogue, holiday, like a prayer
Katrina and the waves : walking on sunshine
Prince : raspBerry beret
And a whole load of karaoke faves that I can't remember the details off
I'm a career dancer, in that this is the profession I've dedicated all of my 20s too so far, despite my degree and various talents.

So when you've spent so much time being sexy and desirable, acting out your character to seduce punters, it's great sometimes to let your hair down and have a silly style hustle night at work.
In fact, I would go as far as to say that it takes courage to take your eye off the ball and act a bit different.
Still, there's always tomorrow night for a girl like me.....

Bankers count their pennies

This is a short post, but it doesn't need much to sum up the scene in London at the moment.

I met a really nice guy who worked for HSBC banking recruitment today. He earnt at least a grand a week plus bonus - which would have been announced around this time of year.

It was perfect - we got on like a house on fire, he thought I was gorgeous, basically my night was in the bag.

Or so I thought...

Turns out he's only been out in the west end 6 times in the past year. Seems he likes saving not spending. Wants a cottage in the country, even though he finds the suburbs boring.

I told him that he spends more on travel than going out.
I even pointed out that with rising inflation, it's best to spend not save this year - especially as he could claim back tonight on expenses.

He spent £50 on dances and drank beer all night.
Apparently he's not comfortable spending money, just making it....

Oops I did it again

Oops seems I have done it again.

What, you ask?

That's exactly the thought that was running through my mind tonight. It's barely midnight, it's a Monday, it's raining outside and both the streets ofnlobfon and my club are empty.

So i might have had a few drinks, but so what? Apparently whatever I've done is enough to piss a bouncer off. So he shouts at me, then I complain in the changing room over what a cock he us, then a manager overhears and before you know it

WHAM! A big fat £50 fine.

If you think I am being vague over what happened, it's because I don't know what happened. Specifically some lame customer complained about me - I refused to let him touch me in the dance, so he snitched to a bouncer that I had ripped him off. Usually this kind of complaint would be ignored, but he had to choose the bouncer that didn't like me....

Where are all the bankers?

Last Friday the papers had the front page news I had been waiting for.

The Banker's bonuses had been announced!!! 

Ok, so they won't get their money for the next couple of months, but they find out what was in the pot and how much they are going to receive for a years hard work (ahem!), so the theory is that last Friday should have been a night of rejoicing for the 10000 bankers at Citibank say, or the 4000 at Barclays and so on.  (My figures may be off here, but I'm trying to remember the Evening Standard article whilst hungover).

Even though I was dog tired, I dargged myself into the club on Friday night.  I keep an eye on these things, as one big night with a super rich client can be worth a whole week of normal nights.  I wore my favourite, but approachable dress - not too tarty, in a pretty white lace.  My hair was carefully waved, my eyes were dark and smoky - all in all, I was a dead ringer for the girlfriend they had always wanted, a Page 3 girl next door, a true high street honey. The banker crowd want to celebrate, I thought, not get so drunk that they go for the slappiest slapper with the biggest tits and blondest hair - thats more a Saturday night, stag do crowd.

As you can tell, I had high hopes for this evening.  I just needed to look good and stay alert to the waves of guys coming through the doors, pick carefully, and pounce!

I waited

And I waited

And I waited some more.....

Midnight came, and I had still not seen even one f**ging group of City boys!!!!  

I left the club early, at around 2am, sorely disappointed.  City boys, I don't know where the hoardes of you happy boys went to celebrate your bonuses, but it is a sad day for us strippers of London when you can't even go spend some of it on a pretty lady or two.

There are further announcements planned for the remaining banks bonuses - boys, once you get your good news, remember what Lou Mannenheim says in Wall Street;

"Kid, you're on a roll. Enjoy it whilst it lasts, 'cause it never does."

New Year, New Regular?

I love regulars, I really do.

I love regulars more than I love looking good, or learning a new trick on the pole, or stepping out in a new G-string.

Regulars are the guys who come in the club and always say hello.  Sometimes they have a couple of dancers that they like and give attention to, but others only have one favourite, and no-one else compares to her.  They come on a sliding scale - some always give you a compliment, remember your name, and perhaps buy you a drink.  Others make a point of watching me when I am on stage, and tuck a few tips into my G-string.  Some always call you over for a chat, and you know that after 10 minutes they will take you for a dance, and that the pressure is off.  Of course, the best regulars do all of the above and spend a lot of money on you, and only you.

Regulars always make you smile - they are  like a pit-stop of compliments and normality amongst the sea of strangers faces.

So when you meet a guy who you think can be a good regular, and he says he is coming back into town next month, us dancers get excited.  Last night I met a lovely guy - lets call him Al.  He would make a perfect regular - on paper, he's the real deal.  Just divorced, an accountant, and comes into town every month or so.  He dropped £400 quid on me, and we just sat at the bar, talking and drinking, for about an hour and a half.  He came in early, around 9, and left early too.  Thats perfect for me, as it set me up for a really good shift - I still have 3/4 hours left to make money, and perhaps meet another Al.

Not only that, but we had a really good chat.  He loved to listen to my sparkling conversation, and we spoke about all sorts - my writing, my uni degree, art, good sightseeing and plays in London.  And dancing? We did a run of three in the booth, which he tipped me for as well, but he really just wanted to talk and listen in the company of a lively, beautiful young woman.

Bliss - Al, I'm looking forward to seeing you again next month.

Dreams for 2011

Pay off my Uni,credit card and loans
Pay my dealer whilst I'm at it after the Christmas binge
Try to drink one bottle of red wine per day, not two
Find some sparkly stripper shoes that don't give me callouses the next day
Get some more regular customers
Get a decent VIP booking at least once a week; not once a month!!
Find the holy Grail of tooth whitening products
Find my perfect blonde...and dream hairdresser to do it
Do something big, like buy a house, or get a book published, or learn how to drive ...actually what's the point in driving? I live in London for chrissakes and drink every day

So there's my resolutions for this year. I think they sound pretty doable, hey?