Back to pulling down my knickers and typing up words

After the damb squib which were the Olympics - business was slow, slow, slow - my skin itched with the frustrating affair which saw hundreds of thousands of people with bulging wallets visit London for the sporting event of the year, but failed to walk through the doors of the West End.
It was painful.
I'd planned my whole year around the Olympics.  I had big BIG plans.  Visit a few festivals and enjoy the beginning of summer, then earn pots of Olympic gold, save up some for my tax bill and still have pennies for holidaying in September.
I was going to use the unusual situation to interview lots of other dancers, bar staff and perhaps even some club operators - how they had coped with the busy influx, the funny stories, the lessons they had learnt.  How it all differed from the usual frustration of a long, hot and slow summer period, where any dancer worth her salt goes away or works on the coast or abroad.  Perhaps put together some sort of e-book, pamphlet affair, so that we could stand proudly on the rooftops and shout

"Look! LOOK! Look what us working girls did for London, did for the image of Britain - how we kept all those people who would otherwise be sitting around in hotel rooms happy and jubilant and celebrating all the beauty that this great city has to offer, deep into the night.  Night after night.  WE are superhuman! WE deserve a medal."

But nah.  The fun and fizz and fanfare exploded in a damp squib.  Everyone partied somewhere else, or didn't party at all.  Blame it on the scaremongering of London transport, blame it on the press's empty fears of a deluge of sex-workers invading our streets, blame it on pay-per-view TV.

So I've been really, really quiet.  Stopped writing, either here or on my stripping website http://www.londonlapdancer.com/ 

I'm super sorry to everyone who sent me emails with fantastic comments, guest-posting submissions, or requests for interviews.  

Like the tourists, I couldn't be asked and went on holiday instead.  A whole month of it.  HA! Damn fine time I had too, with no writing, no pulling off my panties and NO SHAVING!!!!

But I'm back, plucked, waxed, tanned - and a little bit fatter.  Ready to rock the pole by night and keyboard by day.

Thanks for sticking around folks......

xxx Sassy

http://www.londonlapdancer.com/

An English Strippers guide to Lapdancing Clubs to visit during the 2012 London Olympics

After a day of watching gorgeous honed athletic bodies in lycra why quit?

London is hosting the Olympics this year and has sold 10.8 million tickets to the various Olympic and Paralympic events.

That's a lot of people in London who want to be entertained!

Luckily the city of London has a rich seam of entertainment for tourists to mine, including lap dancing clubs.  The first stripclub in London was the Windmill which opened in the 1930s, although nude girls had to stand completely still in tableau form.  Luckily attitudes have changed since then and gentleman's establishments are now fully nude, with alcohol, and are available to the discerning male or female viewer.  Many also offer food, live stage shows, and the option to buy dance tokens discreetly using your credit or debit cards.  The average price of a dance is £20 per song, the price of VIP varies from £100 to £500 an hour, and some clubs are free, others charge an entrance of up to £20 per person.  If you click on my links below you will be directed to the club's own site and many offer the option to print discount entry vouchers.

If you are visting London for the Olympics I would definitely recommend putting a stripclub visit on your Olympic itinerary.  Here are my top 10 stripclubs to visit during the Olympics 2012.

West End

In the heart of bustling Leicester Square, famous for film premieres and casinos, is the relatively new-comer, Platinum Lace.  Run by the former boss of Spearmint Rhino, it has quickly established a reputation for being able to host glitzy parties and has won serveral industry awards.  It is open from 3pm till 6am every day of the week, (although it shuts at 3am on Sundays)  It has several stages, more women than you could shake a stick at and a separate VIP lounge for large parties.  They will probably be showing some Olympic athletic sport on a big screen for special heats.

The most famous gentleman's club in the West End is undoubtedly Stringfellows - it is run by Peter Stringfellow who has become a celebrity in his own right and is famous for having both a high calibre of girls and clientèle.  It is based in historic Covent Garden, is open till 4:30, although rumour has it that they have an extended licence till 6am for the Olympic summer season, and has a top notch restaurant serving an excellent steak.  However, it is a classy and sophsticated club based on VIP dance packages so smart dress and money to burn are essential.

The original striptease establishment, the Windmill, is based in Soho.  It has a fantastic double height pole on its stage and is open till 5:30am.

Up the road is the infamous Spearmint Rhino, a global chain of decadence which has outposts in the USA and Australia.  It is packed to the rafters with hot women and throws some excellent shows on the weekend, with fire and burlesque dancers adding some excitement.  It seems to be the club which keeps on giving, as it has special drink offers throughout the week and long opening hours from midday till 4am, although on the weekends it opens at 6pm.

With several branches across London, Secrets is definitely good to know.  They even have a branch opposite Euston, so if your train at Euston or nearby Kings Cross/St Pancras is delayed, you know where to wait.  I wager that the transport and traffic in London will not be running 100% smoothly during the London Olympics, so a few dances in the company of beautiful women from all over the world should help ease the annoyance.

East London

The Olympic village itself is based in Stratford, East London, and there are plenty of establishments to choose from.

The biggest is For Your Eyes Only, which has a whopping 40 VIP and champagne lounges, so no matter how many people come to visit, there will always be room for you.  Like Secrets, they are based in the city - London's equivalent of Wall Street.

Can't be bothered to go far? Majingo's - no, I don't know what the name stands for either - is based in the Dockland's, so is a mere mile as the crow flies from the stadium itself.  It's open from 6 till 3.

For those that prefer the traditional route, the East End has a long and fine tradition of 'pound in the pint glass' strip pubs - YES PUBS!  Try Brown's or The Griffin Here you simply sit down on a bar stool, nursing some brown ale in nice cold glass, and watch the excellent stage shows, before tipping the dancer a minimum of a pound afterwards (more if she's rocking the pole).  The dancer's will circulate around the club with a pint glass collecting coins and notes after their stage set, and may also offer private dances for the customary score (£20).  Also in Shoreditch is The White Horse which is open till midnight, 1am on weekends, and has free entry. All three strip pubs mentioned also have big TV screens so you won't miss any sporting highlights.....

Last but certainly not least, Metropolis has three floors with some really unique dance areas including a beach, a car wash and a sultan's harem.  I'm not kidding.

I hope that you find my guide to lapdancing bars and stripclubs to visit during the Olympics useful, although remember I am more used to being a lapdancer than a punter! I'd really love to hear from anybody who visits/works at these clubs whilst visiting London for the Olympics, so please leave your thoughts in the comments box.  Let's get it going for gold!

This article was originally published on my new site http://www.londonlapdancer.com/

Please visit for even more resources on lapdancing in London and all over the world!

Casting Call for Mummy Strippers!

I get bunches of promo emails, but this one sounds interesting, as regular readers will know I am truly inspired by mummy strippers.  A TV Documentary crew is looking for exotic dancers who are also trying to bring up a family.  I've passed it on to a few friends but why not get in touch with them yourself if you want your fifteen minutes and to show the world what a great mother and strong woman you are?

CASTING:

EXOTIC DANCERS WHO ARE RAISING A FAMILY

A major TV production company is searching for women who raise kids during the day while exotic dancing at night. We are in search of solo women as well as groups of friends/ co-workers who deal with the shared stress of being a “mom” while holding down an evening job in adult entertainment. Married, as well as single moms, are of interest.

To learn more about the show, please email us a current photo of yourself, a current contact telephone number and a brief blurb detailing your story and family/ work life. You can contact Sean De Simone  (http://seandesimonecasting.com/) at exoticdancermoms@gmail.com

After two years plus of writing my thoughts down I have realised that it's time to move onto bigger and better things - a magazine style site with multiple articles and pages.
Don't worry, I will still be blogging except now I will be moving to a lush new site.


http://www.londonlapdancer.com/


I will be posting my nightly thoughts, reviews of dancing related shenanigans and paraphernalia and obviously be keeping you guys up to date with how the stripclub industry is evolving, represented and commented on.
I will also be moving a lot of the content onto my new site as well as posting fresh new material.


Come check it out as I build a new stripping empire....


http://www.londonlapdancer.com/

New and old stripper forums

This summary is not available. Please click here to view the post.

Glass Geishas by Susanna Quinn; My Review

Glass Geishas - what a fantastic title.
Geisha are of course the traditional Japanese entertainers, all thick black laquered hair, ivory skin and brightly coloured kimono's, that are a symbol of Japan - and Japanese beauty. But the Glass Geisha in the title are not the precise and careful beauties with many years of training pouring cups of tea.  The Glass Geisha are the wild and crazy hostesses who pour the whisky and keep the salarymen 'genki' (happy) whilst downing glasses full of spirits and mixers that they earn £3.50 comms each on.
How do I know?
Because I was a Roppongi girl once.
I went on dohans, got kickbacks from champagne bars, survived on a diet of booze, strong charcoal cigarettes, sushi and drugs supplied by the club's shadiest customers for a few months in Roppongi, Tokyo's infamous entertainment district.  Like so many other Western girls, we bought a one way ticket and worked through our tourist visa, six days a week, living in cramped accommodation that the locals dubbed 'Pussy Plaza'.
It was awful yet fantastic, but I wouldn't do it again, so I pushed the experience to the back of my mind, not wanting to relive memories which are at times painful and leave me disgusted by the life my naive young self fell into.
Forgotten - until Glass Geishas came along.

I loved reading this book.  The pages flowed like the drinks in the book - page after page just turning through my fingers.  I got it from the book launch, where I was lucky enough to meet the lovely author Susanna Quinn herself, and that was on a Thursday before I went to work at my club nearby.  I started Glass Geishas on my journey home at 5am, and was still reading it in bed as the sun came up.  The images of rain soaked narrow streets and neon lights were too much for me, so I poured myself a gin. And then another. And I laughed and cried and drank more gin until I passed out.
(I'm not recommending that you attempt to read it in this fashion, but it is fun.  Especially if you drink every time they say 'champagne', 'knocked back', 'little glasses of vodka tonic' etc.)
Now for the average reader - girls, you are going to love this book.  It's got a cracking storyline and fantastically detailed description of the strange happenings and secretive world of Tokyo.  Everyone is half-crazy, the industry has turned them into complete alcoholics, and no-one tells the whole story, if they get past lying through their teeth in the first place.
It's written from three points of view - a new girl called Stephanie who is desperate for what she has been told is 'quick and easy' money by her old schoolfriends who are living it up there already - but Julia is distant and weird whilst the other, Annabel, has plum disappeared off the face of the earth, leaving only a diary behind.
The second narrative is based on a cranky Japanese House Mum 'Mama San' who is telling her life story to a Western journo.  She comes out with some real filth on Japanese perversions (actually, the book opens with a shady Rophynol scene, and that's tame compared to what happen's later.)
The third is a string of emails from a hostess who has been there for some time.  I must admit I didn't get this - I thought it clunky and unnecessary, as it was mainly some girl being insecure and moaning about how it was all going downhill.  I suppose that it was included to serve as a reminder of how the hostess industry could really mess with some girls psyches, but then I was half a bottle of gin down at the time and certainly didn't need any reminder of how within a few months I was a shaking alcoholic letting myself get felt up for fifty bucks a song.
Cleverly, this book is not a memoir.  It's a novel.  It has a proper story , with an intriguing beginning, an exciting middle, and a slightly rushed and very neat ending where everything falls into place - hurrah!  In short, the perfect summertime read.  Out of all the books on the entertainment and sex industries that I have read and reviewed, this is one of the freshest and original, and I hope it marks a turn in the tide of the neverending stream of memoirs and now-I've-left-the-industry biographies which is the normal publishing format.
Go buy it.  Glass Geishas ; 356 pages with a gin chaser.  Lovely.

Worst Lapdance of the Week; The Swiss One

He looked kindly and sweet when I saw him at the bar.  A little man in a suit, with a round face and fluffy balding hair - a cuddly Donald Trump.  He offered to buy me a gin and tonic, and as I sat on the bar stool he pulled his closer, so that our knees were touching.  

"I'm Swiss," he replied in answer to my question, grabbing my hand in his own chubby fingers.  

"We should go drink these somewhere else... somewhere more private."

He nodded like a keen St. Bernard doggie, and hurried with a waddling gait to the booth. With his fluffy hair and careful placing of fat paws on the ground, I wouldn't have been surprised if he had been an Alpine rescue dog with a barrel of whisky round his neck.  My hustling heart soared - after a bad night this man was definitely going to book me in for a VIP - there was only just over an hour left and my money wrap lay limp and thin even after six hours hustling.

with thanks to the State Library of New South Wales at Flickr

We sat down and discussed spending the rest of the night together - stripclub terminology for 'pay me till the club closes, then it's Sayonara sweetheart'.  But as his fingers crept up my thigh like fat caterpillars he insisted that he just wanted a dance to start.  

"Fine, let's do that then," I agreed grudgingly, figuring that I could at least get the horny little bugger for a multiple hit of £60, £100, even if a full hour was out of the question. 

I manoeuvred around him carefully, being careful of his hands.  They were slipping and sliding everywhere - stroking the edge of my thigh, trying to crawl towards my knickers, quivering inches from my bottom as I shook and span it around.

"No touching - naughty." I giggled playfully.  Not my rules, it's the law - and they are strictly enforcing it in London at the moment what with a vice and regulations round-up in advance of the Olympics.

"No touching!" Once again, more insistent this time, and I backed away to the opposite end of the booth so that he would get the idea.

"Yes, sorry, so sorry." He looked at me pleadingly, his eyes large in the folds of his puffy face. He place his hands back at his sides. 

I moved closer.

And closer.

Looking straight at him, watching where his fingers were about to move.  But he didn't move an iota, they barely twitched.

Feeling confident now, I asked winkingly if he wanted another.

He nodded. Of course.

I moved closer, almost on top of him now, my hips snaking from side to side, my hands rubbing my neck, hair tossed to the beat of the sultry house music.  I closed my eyes - I could almost be on a beach in Ibiza, on a sunlit terrace, dancing in my own little world, totally alone.

Till a long soggy feeling erupted over my bottom.

Opening my eyes, and spinning around quicksharp, I almost hurled.

My little Swiss man was licking my bottom, with a pink outstretched tongue like an overexcited Spaniel's penis.  Raspberry pink, wet, throbbing and refusing to go back inside where it belongs.  Leaving trails of slobber all over my beautiful, toned, tanned, moisturised and perfumed derrière.

He looked up sheepishly like a little kid who has been caught licking the icing off a chocolate gateaux, and I couldn't find it in my heart to berate the sleazebag.  Even if it did mean I would have to disinfect the area later.  

Who realised that a country famed for it's neutrality could hold such perverts?

Partying through the Jubilee weekend

London erupted in a flurry of street parties this weekend and I danced in every single one of them.

I wore a red and white outfit with matching red and white underwear and a glittery tiara on top.
I gobbled down BBQ sticky chicken and licked my fingers clean afterwards.
I took huge bites from fancy cupcakes, icing sticking to my chin.
I danced in the streets as ghettoblasters pumped out tunes - funky house, soulful reggae, singalong favourites.
I flashed smiles and talked to men and introduced myself by my real name to everyone of them.

It felt great, and whilst I'm nursing bruises and a battered bank balance, I'm sat at this computer with a dopey grin on my face, patting myself on the back for ensuring that I had this weekend off.  When I stared at my calender last week, and realised that I was rota'd to spin around a pole and flash my privates to tourists and stag parties on what was the biggest weekend my fair city had hosted in my living memory, I blanched.
I felt scared and worried - I'd been in that position before, when I worked shifts and didn't know any of the girls, felt the pull of celebrations happening elsewhere, and had to make friends for the night with the friendliest looking faces in the club - if there were any that is.
So I bit my lip, took a deep breath, and walked into the manager's office to discuss my schedule.
And promptly got out of it - by hook and by crook.

When I first started dancing, I used to pick the world's worst schedules.

I'd work a tuesday and wednesday night, get really drunk, wake up with a hangover and then drink red wine in front of the telly for a few days.

Then I'd panic as I realised it was the weekend already and I had no money and I'd be forced to work the Saturday night.  I'd stare longingly at my phone as it beeped away with text messages full of the great times my friends were having, as I pounded round the club like an animal in a cage, servicing stag party after stag party with their grabby hands and reeking beer breath.

Every Sunday I would swear to myself that I would work weekdays only and not let my little moments of laziness ruin my weekend.  What's the point in having friends if you can never get to see them?

But my problem was that I had too many friends, and there were always invites to this club night, a birthday house party, drinks after work... I really used to beat myself up over it - was I a perpetual student? How could I ruin my chance at saving the pennies and building a decent future if I couldn't even go earn the pounds?

I can't say that's changed much, but at least now I put myself first.
Most of the time...

Best lapdance of the week

Hello jolly readers!

After a spate of 'How to....'s" last month, as I explored the dating scene and lapdancing, I feel it's time to dish the dirt again on what has been happening in my booths this week.  I've decided that it would be fun to highlight my best - and potentially the worst - lapdances I take part in as a weekly series.  Hell, why not?

So look out for the label's; 'best lapdance' and 'worst lapdance', which should begin to appear on my label cloud on the sidebar.  Unfortunately I don't seem to have a search feature on my blogger, and can't be asked to install one right now, if one even exists, as I'm too tired and hungover after a hard night's graft.
And you'll never guess what happened....

"Best Lapdance of the week! Award" goes to Josh, an American suit that chose to celebrate his last night in London with me and a Czech girl.  He win's hands down because he had such a good body.
You could just about make out the thick muscles in his biceps that strained ever so slightly against the fabric of his well cut designer suit, but I gave him a squeeze just to make sure. Yep, those were some muscles alright, I smiled as he flexed them for the benefit of the cooing strippers around him.
He was HOT, and RICH, and HE KNEW IT!!!
I jumped for joy when he picked me to dance for him as it was a) a total confidence boost and b) made all the other girls jealous.
Actually he picked two of us girls to play with him as he was a greedy, fun loving sod - but I love threesomes and the three of us practically skipped towards the lapdance area.
He drawled oodles of compliments about the Czech girls flat stomach and my jiggling bottom in a sensual American accent for a couple of songs, but it was when some American Rock came on that he really came into his element.

As Def Leppard called for some sugar to be poured on him, Josh leapt up and began to thrust his crotch with a rocker's rhythm.
Whilst Def began to get hot, sticky and sweet, Josh began to under the buttons on his shirt, one by one, in time to the pounding drum beat.
Us two girls screamed like schoolgirls, ostensibly to make Josh feel like a real life rockstar, but there was passion behind my screams, because Josh revealed something very, very tasty under his suit.
A tanned and rippling six pack with just about the right amount of soft chest hair that called out for me to sink my fingers into.
So I did.
Well, we had to check out his chest didn't we?
"No touching the dancers allowed!" Josh joked, and we giggled right back.

First date's reveal some upsetting home truths

So I've recently been on my second date with a gorgeous and driven city type, and whilst it was in many ways a success - he's been texting me since, he looked me in the eye and said he liked me (!), and we had a kiss or two - the experience has left me confused and wanting.
Firstly, a bit of backstory.  I'm fairly inexperienced in the world of dating.  I tend to meet guys when drunk or high at one of the myriad of house parties and club nights that I find myself at, then take them home with me that night.  I have no time to fanny around (excuse the pun) with the first-dates-lets-meet-for-coffee-malarky, as my free evenings are sacred to me as a lapdancer who works nights.  On top of this, as a hustler, if I see a man I want, I get him, right there, right then.  It's in my DNA now.
And when I have a man I like, I've always embarked on an intense relationship, where we are practically joined at the hip, our two souls and bodies deeply intertwined, our dreams shared.
However, a couple of months ago I got my heart broken, in one of those unexpected moments that life throws at you - one day we were planning Valentine's, the next he'd come round to tell me that it was over.
Just like that.
The feelings of depth and abandonment overwhelmed me so completely I felt like I had just stepped into the pages of a Twilight novel - suddenly I was Bella Swan, alone, abandoned, and utterly rejected, staring into space and all food and pleasure turning to ashes in my mouth.  I drank, I cried, then I drank some more, until eventually my friends and family pulled me  out of it and I returned to normalcy.


Several months have passed now, and so I've begun to look at men again, feel the familiar stirring in my loins, flutters in my stomach - my capacity for love has returned.  So I've been on a couple of dates with the one guy in London I currently find even a little bit cute - with unexpected results.

• Age and Experience has made me picky;  I don't seem to fancy anyone.  At all. Even though I meet lots of guys at the club, many of them hot, rich and successful, and we have brief erotic experiences together.  I get chatted up everyday too - by the guys working in my local cafes, people in the pub - I even got chatted up in Waterstone's bookshop the other day.  But whilst I'm flattered by the attention, nobody excites me - whereas before many of them would of.
• I'm horny, but want it on my own terms.  I've been reading the Fifty Shades of Grey
  trilogy, and totally empathise with one of the main characters.  No,  not the lily-livered Anastasia Steele virginial type, but the dark and tortured Christian Grey.  He doesn't like to be touched - a boundary I have to keep to every night I stride into a booth to give a lapdance.  He wants to fit his sexual experiences into alloted time slots - as a busy working girl myself, I would love to slot 'sex time' into my diary.  He wants to control and manipulate the situation so that he doesn't get hurt or abandoned again - feelings which mirror my own so exactly, so perfectly, yet still push the spine-tingling sex scenes to excess.
• I'm a bit of a nut that try's too hard.  My work personality is only so many shades of grey, if you will, from my normal persona.  The thing is, I do try hard to make sure the person, or people I am with, are happy - I'm a naturally generous and sociable young lady.  However, put me in a situation that I feel uncomfortable in, and I will start over-compensating in order to hide my nerves.  Imagine you are at a dinner party, and the conversation moves out of your depth by a person you are trying to impress.  Your voice might rise a few octaves, you start slavishly insisting on a moot point - you generally become a loud, crazy bore.  That's basically me.  On our first date, I chatted about wine with the waiter, thinking that my few grains of vinery knowledge would impress the guy - who simply smiled, as he casually mentioned that he liked wine too - his family owed some vineyards....  
• I drink way more than the average person.  It's very hard to match your drinking to the other, especially when you are nervous. Especially when they are on beer and you are on Martini's. Either I need to switch drink preferences or I just accept that at heart I am a Geordie Shore lass on the lash.  
  
•  I must be careful not to fall under the 'damaged stripper' stereotype.  Yes, I'm currently damaged goods, and yes, I'm an exotic dancer, but I must be careful that I do not come across as the embodiment of that old Hollywood favourite - the damaged stripper. See the Spearmint Rhino chapter in How To Be a Woman by Caitlan Moran, a brilliant modern feminist writer who documents a visit to the megalithic temple  of nudity; Spearmint Rhino on Tottenham Court Road, and whilst she has a good time, leaves feeling that many dancers come from abusive backgrounds. I certainly don't, but I've just had my heart broken, so until it mends itself or new-found love heals the tear with a warm and fuzzy sticking plaster, I have to keep in mind that my real inner feelings may be taken out of context.

Well, that was fairly cathartic just writing that post - a spot of self analysis can be good sometimes. This is is obviously one of the perks of being me - I can blog and write about my experiences and life under the veil of anonymity, and use the process so that both I and current and future readers can perhaps get a better grasp on what's going through that lapdancer's head.  I've dedicated the past month to posts about dating a lapdancer,  chatting up a lapdancer, and our love lives - please explore and comment.

It's a fairly difficult time for me at the moment, with a sense of my myriad identities being in a state of flux.  I sometimes fear that I have too many faces that are simultaneously on show; my dancer self, my blogging self, my real self. 

But that doesn't mean that I am not happy, and in many ways I am doing well at the moment - work is steady, I have lots of friends at the club, more readers on my blog, and another date on the cards......

.

How to choose the perfect 'long dress' for gentleman's club auditions

Last week I received an email from a lovely girl who wanted to get into lapdancing, but was confused by what the club meant by 'long dress'.

"What about the clubs, where they say you need to wear an evening dress? What does it mean? Is it so posh? Do I really have to wear long dress?"

I remember back in the day when I first rang up a gentleman's club and asked about their auditioning process.  They insisted on 'long dresses', which my newbie brain found thoroughly confusing.  Surely an exotic dancer wore as little as possible, with easily removable teeny-weeny string binkini's and thongs that disappeared up their jiggling bottoms? 

My entire back-catalogue of lapdancing experience came from watching 'Showgirls' which isn't even about stripping per se but is set in Vegas; "I'm a dancer!" cries Naomi Malone.
If you have never seen this cult classic buy it immediately it's the purest example of something so awful, so bad, that it's good. Here's an Amazon link Showgirls [BLU-RAY] [UNCUT VERSION] [DUTCH IMPORT]  
For now, here's a clip because I can't help this guilty pleasure....

But if you are ready to follow in Showgirl's footsteps, what does a girl wear?

A long dress when you are a lapdancer is basically a dress that has all or part of it falling below your knee.  The rest of it can look like a spider-web of tiny gossamer thin strands that leaves little to the imagination, but it must have one tiny strand falling down one leg till it hovers just above your ankle.  Strange but true.

A decent 'long stripping outfit' is a key part of any dancers wardrobe. With this a girl will be able  to audition at any club in the country, and will be able to start work immediately or continue working if the club changes the rules overnight.  I have lost count of the number of times a gentleman's club has relaxed the rules on dress-code, only to tighten them up again 6 months later as the girls look too sleazy or the management changes.  Many girl's initially scream with glee when the rules get relaxed as we prefer miniskirts to ballgowns,  but woe betide the dancer who throws away her long dresses as 'she doesn't need them anymore.' WRONG!

So what makes a great lapdancer outfit? It must be very flattering on the girl, comply with the club's dress code and be easy to take off in a graceful and sexy manner.

  

This lapdancer dress is from a British company "SassyAss" specialising in pole dancing outfits with a fantastically Sassy sounding name just like me! Either my blog name wasn't as original as I thought it was or there's something about stripping and sassiness that just goes together like a horse and carriage and love and marriage.
Anyway, this is your standard dancer's dress. It's a nice bright colour so you stand out amongst all the other girls, you can get away with no bra or stick a nice padded cleavage enhancing bra underneath if you want. I've had this dress style several times before in red and purple and they were great to dance in.
For true sassiness, I'd suggest a bra in a contrasting colour - hot pink perhaps, or black.  Most lapdancer's only match their outfits to their lingerie when it's black and more black, or it's fantasy night. Taste goes out of the window the rest of the time as we like to stand out from the crowd.

If a bright dress like this seems a bit daunting, a good long dress would be something like this one.  I really like wearing dresses with well-positioned cut-outs and a thigh high slash - they move really well and feel a bit  S & M dominatrix-ish.

This 'Tiger' dress comes in black as well, and would look great with some sheer black stockings and some bling jewellery.  I've had a similar one before, and it fell really nicely whether I was posing on the stage or sat down talking to a customer - it's revealing, but not overly so.

If you are a girl lucky enough to be blessed with a really fabulous pair of tits, or perhaps you have just had a boob-job and want to show those beauties off to the world, then you need a dress that drapes around your cleavage but won't let your tits flop out all over the place when you move.

If you want to cover up a little, but still want to show off your gorgeous curves, wear a well cut number like the red one below which comes in a slinky fabric - very tactile for those guys who have itchy fingers and like to stroke a girl.

Finally, if you are tall and gorgeous, with great collarbones and face, and especially if you have very long hair or a short pixie crop, then trust me - wear a body-stocking style dress in a sheer or lace fabric.  It's a lot of fabric, so it can be a bit restricting, so not good if you want to really rock the pole tricks, but I've seen men go ga-ga for girls who wear a bodystocking tube dress like the ones below;

I hope that this post solves the enigma which is the 'long dress'.  Remember that this is a uniform, and will be crucial to how customers - and the management & girls - perceive you.
As a general rule of thumb; Black =classy, colours=fun, fishnet or cutouts=slutty


A good dress will last a girl for many, many shifts - I've got dresses that are over five years old, other's that have been handed down to me by dancer's leaving the business.  They are worth the money and investment, even if the initial outlay seems a little pricey at first - you will make it back.  Try looking in local markets or the high street, but if you really want to look like a dancer, and have a dress that looks good when you are moving about  on stage, in a booth, or VIP, I suggest that you buy from a proper stripping supplier (the ones above, bar Blue Banana, are all lapdancer-orientated companies).

Of course dancer's also wear short dresses, but I will address that in a future post.

Happy Shopping and Dancing; Good Luck with the Auditions Girls!!!

How to pick up a lapdancer

It must be on every man's bucket list to pick up a lapdancer. Hell, I've even met students of The Game and Rules of the Game who bring in their classes to use us girls as target practice.

But how does a guy chat up a stripper? And I don't mean swap numbers and business cards so that she calls you up and gets you to become one of her regulars, or puts you on the club mailing list.

I'm talking about a real life, meet-out-of-the-club scenario, which perhaps progresses to second or third base … or the kind of magical night where you hit a home run and you and the deliciously hot and horny exotic dancer have wild freaky sex all night long...

I've thought about this and have come up with my top ten points and advice on courting a lady of the night...

Firstly, a disclaimer. It is against club policy to date customers, and many clubs don't even like you telling guys your real name or any personal details. So when a lapdancer is 'lying' to you, she is probably just doing it to toe the club line and keep her job.

As a Stripper PUA (Pick.Up.Artist), you should make understanding the dancers situation your bottom line. Would you risk your job to get laid?

Well would you????

So picking up a lapdancer is breaking every rule in the book – so whilst Miss Sassy Lapdancer here does not condone this kind of illicit and exciting scenario, I will offer a few pointers...

• Be NICE Buy the girl a drink. Give her a few compliments, just casually dropped into the conversation. Look her in the eyes, not stare directly at her tits.
• Compliments; Here you have to be clever. Some girls have real hang-ups about bits of their bodies, whereas other girls are so used to getting complimented on certain areas that they find it a turn-off. These bodily bits are generally the men's favourite erogenous zones, such as tits, legs and bottoms. On top of this, we fuss about our hair and eyes so much in the changing room that whilst we like getting compliments about our hair and eyes, we may also be expecting it. A clever guy will compliment a girl on a more unusual feature. Personally, I go gooey a la' Fifty Shades of Grey when a man tells me “Don't bite your bottom lip – It's very distracting”.

Try saying that;

a girl's hands look beautiful with her bracelets and rings, that her eyebrows frame her face perfectly, her shoes look great on her legs, her luscious brunette locks remind you of Cheryl Cole/ Kate Middleton. She just blushed a little and it was really sweet, you like the faraway look in her eyes when she discusses holidays, she has a beautiful back. (don't massage it if you are heavy handed though... or drunk. That will just cause me pain and I need my body to work!)

• Compliment No-No's; Reader's of The Game and Rules of the Game will know all about 'negative' hits – backhanded compliments such as 'your hair is cute, it reminds me of a mullet'. A few of these can be a great way to break the ice and make the conversation funny, but too many and you will seem like a dick. Be nice (see above)
• Raise your Standards; You are trying to successfully pull a hot, sexy, cool woman who gets chatted up every night, so make sure you fit the bill yourself. Dancer's like hot guys, cool musician types, guys with a decent job and salary, - but the key thing is not to smell, please shave off any extraneous body hair, don't wear dorky clothes, and just exude an air of cool confidence. Most guys I date are people who work late shifts like me – so if you are a bouncer, bartender, or drug dealer reading this, I am sure that you have already dated several strippers. Freelancers, chefs, and people in creative industries are great for dating – if you are a 9-5er, understand that if I go on a date, I may be taking a night off work for you, so make it special.
• Choose your time carefully Come when it's slow, like a Sunday, Monday or Tuesday shift. Note when the girls change from daytime to evening shift – a hungry day girl may take you up on your offer of dinner when her shift ends. Or have an after-hours party lined up (NOT in your hotel room). Or even better than a party - have an all-night breakfast place lined up.  Any lapdancer worth her salt will be ravenously hungry after dancing for 8 hours for a pack of drooling zombies baying round a stage.
• Bring a friend If you go to a stripclub on your own, the dancer will see you as a proper perverted punter, or a sad and lonely bugger. I'd bring a friend or two – a wingman, or even better, a wingman AND a wingwoman. Then they can both big you up, and say what a nice guy you are.
• Can I bring a friend? Look, I'm sure you are not an axe-wielding rapist, but it's still scary meeting up with a guy, especially at 3am in the morning when you have been staring at my naked form all night. So if you invite me on somewhere, expect me to bring company – well at least it will be hot company, as I'll bring one of my fellow dancers. However, if you are inviting me to a club or houseparty, and I bring a waiter or bartender along as part of my entourage, don't moan – just graciously accept it & buy him a beer. If I wanted to sleep with the staff, I would have done it already, capiche?
• Shooting fish in a barrel It's very hard to chat me up at work. It's hard to chat me up period, because if I like you, I've probably already started initiating a future hook-up before you even know that Cupid's love bolt is heading your way. So if you are the kind of douchebag who wants to chat up a dancer for kicks, stick to the new girls and amateurs, as they will prove less resistant to your charms. If you want to spot a new girl, ask the barstaff, DJ or just watch them on stage – you can spot a new girl from a mile off as their stage-sets are less polished even though you can see she is really trying to appear sexy whilst twiddling round the pole. The old-timers are usually the girls who look really really good, or really, really bored.
• Have a pen in your pocket. Well, I'm not going to ask a manager or waitress for a biro if I want to give you my number am I, and running off to the changing room isn't an option when another dancer will just swoop into my place as soon as I vacate my seat.
• Remember this is my JOB and my WORKPLACE I'm not even going to delve into detail on this startling obvious fact, but if I swung by your office and took up all your time chasing your digits, you would find me very annoying....

So there is my advice on successfully chatting up a lapdancer. Memorise and learn from my pearls of exotic dancer wisdom, or cut out and keep this how to ten point plan on pulling a lapdancer.

In my own life, my #dateadancer week has obviously taken longer than a week, but I hope you have been enjoying my posts. I'm finishing off my date a dancer series with 'How to date a dancer' followed by 'How to dump a dancer' – advice there on the full spectrum and love lives of us exotic young ladies. Please look around my blog and check out these posts.

Personally, I have got several dates lined up this week with cute guys, one who is a friend of a friend but two are guys I met in the club (on different nights – I'm not a slag!) I've kissed two of them but haven't seen any sparks fly yet, and haven't had sex for three weeks now, which means I am rule-breakingly horny at work :)

See you in the VIP booth xoxo Sassy

The difficulties behind chatting up a punter

Our eyes locked.  I was unable to look away.  The music melted away, a soft murmur in the background.  I felt naked. I was naked.
I realised that I hadn't taken a breath for a while. Air came into my lungs, I blinked, suddenly self-concious.
"I...." My lips parted.
His hand softly grabbed mine, and a thrill of electricity ran through me.  I could feel butterflies in my stomach, and I leant in closer, closer, wanting to kiss him.  This man, sat right in front of me.  Why did I find him so attractive, so alluring?
I remembered where I was.
I stopped myself, pulled my wits back around me like a protective security blanket, laughed nervously, and pulled myself back up. As if to break the spell, I tossed my head back and strode seductively to the other side of the booth before finishing the lapdance.

Yes, that really can happen.  I've fallen in love with customers in an instant, felt an erotic thrill whilst dancing for some of the most beautiful men I've ever met, fallen for the charms of men chatting me up over a glass of champagne, the alcohol clouding me till time rushes past in a blur.

All too often though, it doesn't work out.  Say you'd like to meet, and the guy, sensing ulterior motives, invariably asks; "How much?"
For me, this is a total passion killer.  It kills dead my schoolgirl crush.  How can I be infatuated with a man who wants to pay for my feelings - how can he not realise that my feeling are genuine?
I know I'm really, really good at making a man feel special, because that's my job - to propagate a fantasy.  I'm an exotic dancer on paper, but I am an illusionist by trade.
Then there are the times when, naturally, they don't want what I want - a date.  They want me that night - in a hotel room, back at my house (awkward journey that, as I always say I live in a totally different part of London) - back at his place, perhaps his city bolthole where his wife and kids won't see us.
This makes me feel grubby.  Sure, I've had plenty of one night stands - but they are usually after a house party, a chance meeting in a club, when I'm high, drunk and free.
So maybe you meet up and go on a date - then you have to explain all the fantasies that you span on your initial encounter at the stripclub.  No, I'd add 5 years to that age; I'm sorry, I've never really been to teh same ski resort as you; actually, I don't really live in Chelsea - haven't been there in months, but I do love the TV show....
Of course there is the presumption that you do this all the time, you must be such a slut, taking full advantage of the conveyor belt of eligible bachelors that walk into your life night after night.  You are a guarenteed shag, tons of notches on your bedpost.  You get chatted up all the time, right? (Actually, this is true - most times I leave the house I'll get admiring glasses, but that doesn't mean I follow them all through.)

So, dear readers, next time you are in a club, and that curvy beauty with chocolate eyes to die in holds your hand and whispers that she hopes you don't leave her side for a moment that evening, that she wished the night could last forever - who knows, it may be true!
Or she might just want another hour in the VIP......

The Love Life of a Lapdancer

She stares into your eyes after you've asked the question, before shyly playing with a strand of her hair.
"Do I have a boyfriend? With this job? Are you kidding?"

So how many lapdancer's really are single and available?

If you walk into a club as a punter and ask all the girls this question, most of the dancer's will say that they are single, with a few lovers on the side.  Some may even say that they are lesbian - and do you want to see her dancing with their girlfriend, who is just over there?

Luckily for you, I have behind the scenes access, and can tell you the truth of what really goes on in the love lives of lapdancer's today.  Here is what I have learnt.... some stereotypical, much of it is very surprising.

Lets base it on your average stripclub in a big English city, such as London, Birmingham or Bournemouth.  

There will be 70 girls working on a busy Thursday night.

• 40 girls will be from Eastern European countries.  The Romanians will probably have a husband or baby back at home - they will also be devoutly Catholic and only return home for a huge celebration of religious holidays ie: Easter, Christmas.  
• The Polish, Latvian, Bulgarian and  Russian girls are more of a mixed bunch.  They will probably have boyfriends who are living in the UK, that they met here. 
• 3 girls will be Asian.  They will probably be dating an English man - there is something about 'yellow fever' which will grip a man and make him an incredibly enamoured boyfriend, many Asian girls will get spoilt rotten by their boyfriends, lucky things!
• 5 girls will be from Brazil, and will be single or casually dating either a fellow Latino they met here on one of their many nights out.  Brazilians like to party!!
• There will be two Australian girls, who are single and ready to mingle, if they get a chance in-between jetting off on weekend breaks all over Europe.
• There will be 2 girls from the Caribbean, they will have some funny stories about the dodgy guys they have dated back home but will generally be wary of spreading the love around too much.
• There will be 2 girls from Africa, they will be single but are waiting for someone special...
• As will the single Indian girl. Stripclubs never seem to have more than one Indian girl, I guess they don't see it as a viable career choice...
• There will be 5 English girls who are dating muscly men - a security doorman or a boxer. 
• There will be 3 English girls who have adorable kids at home.
• There will be 5 English girls who have really messed up and twisted relationships with psychotic guys, and they will spend half the night screaming down the phone at the good for nothing, who they suspect is seeing another girl behind their back.  Think TOWIE.
• There will be 3 girls, of any nationality, who are obsessed with footballers.
• Of the Eastern Europeans, 10 of the 40 will not have had sex for at least 3 months. 
• In fact, out of the 70 girls, I'd say 25 would not have had sex for at least 3 months.  I frequently meet dancers who have not had sex for a year or more....
• Oh, and there will be 2 lesbians.  Usually with a butch girl waiting at home, as a lapdancer is quite femme, dontcha think?

So there you have it - observed, as if I was David Attenborough himself in a G-string, the dating habits and mating rituals of the lesser spotted lapus dancerus as observed in an intense and lengthy study in their natural habitat.

10 things you never knew about dating a lapdancer

So you want to date an exotic dancer? Or perhaps you've been luckily enough to successfully chat up a stripper - well here are my top ten strange but true facts that you should expect as a lapdancer's plus one.
How did I compile my list of things you never knew about being in a relationship with a beautiful and alluring lady of the night? Well firstly, I've had boyfriends whilst working as a lapdancer, and secondly - I'm a girl working with lots of other girls. What do you think we gossip about on a slow night? Men, sex & shopping. Of course.  Seeing as I've designated this week 'date a dancer' week, I called up a few colleagues and quizzed them on their love lives. It was certainly a fun way to spend my rainy Saturday!!!

So here is my "TOP TEN THINGS YOU NEVER KNEW ABOUT DATING A LAPDANCER"

1. We'll always be late.  Especially on date  nights. If you are waiting for us to get ready, I suggest grabbing another beer and settling down on the sofa, as we will faff for at least another half hour.
2. After sex we look like Worzel Gummidge - less bed head hair, more complete tangled mop a foot high.  This is because we pile so much hairspray into our curls and backcomb the hell out of our crown that the moment it experiences some serious bedroom friction, it turns our Rapunzel locks into fuzzy felt.  On that note, don't pull on our hair during sex either.  You will damage my £700 hair extensions and risk a sex ban for eternity (or till I'm next horny).
3. Just because we are super sexy and horny at work, doesn't mean that we take that attitude home to you every night.  The last thing a lapdancer wants to do when she gets home at 4am is a porn show. She wants a cup of tea and a spliff with a slice of leftover pizza and a nice cuddle please....
4. ....Unless she has had a really good night. You see her stagger in clutching a garter full of crumpled notes then you are guaranteed to get laid - she's probably kept her stockings on under that Juicy Couture tracksuit.  And being asleep/having an early start/snoring won't stop her... you're going to get raped by a drunken young lady high on tequila and hard cash, you lucky boy.
5. The saucy striptease I give you at home is not the same as the lapdances I give at work.  There is no pole, no touching and besides the sofa at home is too low to really give the same bump and grind effect.  Which one is better? Errrr.... probably the ones with you, unless I'm day-dreaming about being spoilt rotten by a dirty pervert. BUT!  Just because I have fantasies about work does not mean that I actually live them out. I fantasise about firemen too but I'm not about to burn the house down, am I?
6. We have really, really hot friends who are way louder and energetic than your average girl.  It can be intimidating when in public en masse so contrary to your first thoughhts, you may decide not to introduce all of your uni chums to these girls - yes that Brazilian beauty I've taken under my wing is definitately a train wreck waiting to happen that you should not inflict on poor Jeff.  And no, you are not going to fulfil your college fantasy of a stripper threesome. Just because I work in the sex industry does not mean that it's OK to shag my friends!
7. You're bathroom will look like it's been infested by an invasion of hairy spiders.  No, not my shaved body hair - a decent dancer would never let it grow that long! It's a million pairs of fake lashes, and you're not allowed to squish them or flush them away, as they cost £5 a pop and I can reuse them - if I ever remember to take them home that is....
8. If you want to get in a stripper's good books then rub her feet or give her a nice oily massage right across those shoulders or tight butt cheeks.  Not only will it be fun massaging her derriere but it's also the spot where a lot of tension caused by high heels is stored.  Her aching body will be so grateful that  she'll probably roll over and let you take the pic of any hole you please.  Probably.
9. She'll look so hot when she comes back after a shift that your cock may spontaneously combust - but during the day she'll live in Ugg boots and tracksuits, like she's pernamently going to a gym class. That's if she get's out of her pajama's, which really isn't  necessary till she goes to work at 7pm in the evening.  Expect to come home from work and find her still in her PJ's. He'', I even go to the shop in mine somedays!!!
10. Finally, we may be beautiful but we are probably insecure, so need daily compliments and please tell us how sexy/funny/brilliant we are - whether we are stepping out of the shower or comatose on a sofa.   A few sweet deeds and presents won't go awry either - I'll be talking about you with the girls in the changing room anyway, so why not encourage a bit of boasting instead of the usual moans?

So that's my top ten unusual home truths about dating some of the hottest, funniest, craziest and most openly passionate women on the planet.  You've got no excuse now boys.....

How to date a stripper

What's it like dating a dancer like me?

Amazeballs! Totes Fabulous Sweedie...... Ok, so I'm biased.

So when I wanted to find out what it's like to date a lapdancer, I went and asked a guy who's been there/done that, and can provide some perspective from a man's point of view.

One of my readers obliged, thank god, although I may bite the bullet and interview one of my ex-boyfriends (one day, when I grow some balls).

'Rob' has been with his partner for 4 years. She has been dancing in UK for 2 years.  They live together in London, where he has a normal job whilst his girlfriend dances.

She works at various clubs in London and surrounds. Rob explained "Employment wise they are quite good but before they were terrible. As she is from the developing world, employment rights arent high on her list of needs. That part is my imput.


Best Bit About being with a stripper

1 Shes obviously hot

2 She stays hot as her job is physical

3 The peace and quiet / independence of free weekends

4 That she earns very good money, in cash



Worst Parts about being with a Lapdancer

1 Constantly hearing "xxx made twice as much, am I ugly"

2 Being alone going to bed every night

3 Lying to your family / friends about what she does. (Im a good liar though so its not that big an issue)

4 The employment rights, which are appaling



Do you go to Lapdancing Clubs?

In the UK, on stag dos only. Its too expensive in the UK and I know too much. Overseas, yes.

I believe Im more lapdancing experienced than most men (i would be a wallet watcher in your terminology)



Was your girlfriend a lapdancer when you met her?

Yes



Would you describe yourself as jealous?

No. If you are jealous then I dont think a stripper is the best choice of girlfriend



Does she have sex with customers?

No, but she constantly moans that men ask her all the time.

She also tells me about colleagues who are "dirty", or girls "who must be dirty as they are so ugly/ fat"



How do you know she isnt lying to you?

I trust her, and shes rubbish at lying.
Sassy's note; I'm unbelievably crap at lying to boyfriends, friends and family, although ironically I am way above average when it comes to lying to strangers and punters. When I am in the club, I could lie for Britain!!!

What do you think about when she is at work?

Whatever I'm doing. I genuinely don't think about what she is doing.
Are you worried about safety?

Clubs seem very safe, she isn't worried. Security is strong, she has a regular taxi driver and never says anything about danger at work
You're with a lapdancer, your sex life must be amazing?

erm no, when you work in the sex industry you dont bring it home. I understand that and make concessions.

I'm not with her for the sex.


Do you get to meet her friends?

Sometimes, I give them lifts and maybe meet for a coffee to ask things.

She does have hot friends, but when I see them they are tired and in normal clothes. Most strippers dont walk down the street in fur coats, stockings and high heels.

What does she say about her work?

Mostly its busy / quiet, or moaning about wankers / being happy about customers who have lots of dances, or telling me something funny that happened, or what other girls have said. She is constantly surprised by things the Brazilian or East European girls say
Does she ever tell you about good looking customers?

Occasionally, if a young lad comes in who fits her type. She will tell me he was hot, and how much money he gave her, if he smelled nice and ask me why he goes lapdancing. Shes not with me for my looks btw.

Has she ever danced for girls?

Yes, but she didnt tell me as much detail about that as I hoped
What do you think about her regular customers?

I am happy for them that they like my girlfriend, they have good taste. I'm also happy that they give her lots of money for not doing very much other than talk to them. Most of them seem to treat her as a surrogate girlfriend / wife and just like the company of a pretty young girl. If I was them I would find a more rewarding solution to my problem, but each to their own.
I have texted them for her, or helped her with answers when they text. I wasn't happy about them giving her her number at the start, but its in my name so I'm not worried.

How could your life as a lapdancer boyfriend be improved?

More daytime dancing and less nights

Always that my gf would be the prettiest & highest earning girl in every club

A semblance of employment rights for strippers

That all customers would be generous when sober

Free dances from her friends reciprocated amongst all boyfriends


What advice would you give punters who want to go out with a lapdancer?

Treat the girls as normal girls, not charity cases or reprobates in need of reform

Be normal and 2 of these 4 things - good looking, smart, nice smelling, generous / and or nice

Never be drunk, boring, lecherous or obnoxious

Remember that money is only wages to the girls. If your going to try to impress by being rich, you had better be filthy rich.

How would you pull a lapdancer?

If you really like a girl, note when the girls are busy and not busy. She might like you, but if theres money to be made and you're not giving it her then she needs to get on with her job. If its quiet, there's no dances to be had, and you're good company and a little bit generous then who knows?

Dont assume she will sleep with you just because of her job.

Always pay for dances.

And finally, if she asks you for money for anything other than a dances, she isn't interested.
What advice would you give a stripper boyfriend?

Always be open and ask as many question as you need to trust your partner

Never go and watch her dance, just as you wouldn't expect your partner to come and watch you work

Be understanding that its a dirty job, and that she needs support about her looks / personality.

Learn to sleep with earplugs so she doesnt wake you up when she comes in at daft oclock

Pick 1 lie and stick to it regards her employment.

Even the most confident lapdancer gets nervous on a first date

I've got first date nerves. I don't know when I last went on a date after simply swapping numbers. My modus operandi is usually drink,pull,shagfest and get to know each other after whilst nursing a killer hangover. But I met this guy whilst sober, I haven't kissed him,shagged him - barely even a touch. We did flirt a lot though. Oh yeah, & he's seen me in my birthday suit. Yep, you guessed it - I met him at the club. I get chatted up frequently but this is the first time I've texted them the next day - and I ASKED HIM OUT!!! See guys, all you dreamers out there who have fuck/date/snog/marry a hot stripper on your bucket list - dreams can come true... In honor of this momentous and very scary occasion - I'm literally so nervous I may have to start biting my manicured talons - I'm going to make the next seven days 'Date a Dancer' week on my blog. I'll be posting dating related posts on this blog on a daily basis. As well as reminiscing about my own dating disasters and triumphs as a lapdancer, I'm also going to provide some tips on how to cope in the dating meat market, pulling a stripper, and top tips on how to keep a happy & fulfilling dancer/non-industry duo alive. Plus I've also interviewed some guys - friends and exes of my own as well as a reader of this sassy lapdancer diary who has several years experience. Now doesn't that sound awesome! I'm going to go stare at my wardrobe now. Over 60 dresses in my collection but none of them seem right what with the torrential rain outside that's been battering London all bloody day. Wear jeans & risk a muffin top (yeah even girls with a 25" waist get em). I guess wellies and a Mac.... Joking!! Fingers crossed that my nerves subside and I pick the right outfit for a snog later...

How to choose the perfect stripper shoe

A girl always needs the perfect shoes to go with her outfit, right?  And if that girl is a lapdancer, the right shoes to strip in are even more crucial. 
A lapdancer wears heels so that she can;

1. Look men standing by the bar right in the eye when they are hustling for dances.
2. Command presence on stage & use the shoe as an aid to climb the pole.
3. Feel sexy! These are high, HIGH heels!!! Shiny, glittery, flashing....

A typical shift can be around 8 to 9 hours long, with maybe 4 to 7 shows on stage, each lasting 2 or 3 songs, plus running around from punter to punter, plus all those lapdances that a girl will be doing for them.  If I look at my stripper diaries there have been nights when I come home and my feet are swollen, raw, and in severe pain and blood from sores have dripped onto my garter, staining the folded twenty pound notes with drops of red blood and sweat.
I thought I would write this post so that other dancers or women who are curious about stripping would get some advice and not repeat my painful mistakes.
In this blog post I will be recommending some great high heeled shoes you can wear as a lapdancer and discusss the pro's and con's of each shoe style.
***IMPORTANT; when buying stripper shoe sizes, it's best to buy a 1/2 size UP as they are very tight fitting.  Remember that many Stripper Shoe companies are American; with USA Sizes, add 2 to the UK Size. I am a UK Size 4, but buy a Size 6/6.5 Pleaser shoe and get them shipped over if necessary***** 

A pair of black,shiny patent heels can be perfect for elongating your legs and coming across all sexy. 

These shoes have the added advantage of going with most outfits, they have a concealed platform so give you height without looking too clunky.  Because they have a closed toe, it doesn't matter if you forgot to top up your pedicure, however, be careful that the shoe does not crush your toes!
These are the regulation 6 inch heel, which is the standard size for lapdancing shoes.  Brave and experienced dancers often wear an 8 inch heel, whilst taller dancers can get away with a four inch, lower heel.  The different heel sizes really do make a difference - a four inch heel is about the same height as a pack of cigarettes, whilst an eight inch heel is the same height as a paperback book!

Compare these two shoes with the black 6" heels above.
Here is a sexy 4" shoe, with a nice zipper detail running up the back of the ankle, that would mostly be worn by a lapdancer above 5"7 in height. Remember dancers need height so that they can look men in the eye and command presence on stage shows.

These are some lovely 8" heels which I bought last year.  I found them very good for stamping around the stage, and they made a great THUMP when I slid down the pole and landed with my feet squarely on the stage.  This is a good trick for a dancer to get everyone's attention, and look at her whilst she is doing her stage show.
However, a word of warning - they have no ankle support and are very, very high, so probably not the best pair to buy if you are a newbie.
If you are a girl who wants to get into lapdancing, and want an entry-level stripping shoe, this is what I would recommend - a pair of 6" heels by Pleaser, who are a very good dancer brand.  They build their shoes to last, and have a strong metal support running through the heel so that the heel doesn't break even if you are battering them whilst doing pole tricks, dancing on a marble floored stage, dancing on beer-soaked carpets, spilling drinks all over them, kicking them into corners of the changing room - basically a lapdancer's shoes will get damaged and abused, so it's best to buy pairs and brands that last, unless you have spotted a paticular style to go with a new fantasy outfit.
Just as Kate Middleton loves nude court shoes by LK Bennett, a lapdancer loves clear perspex from Pleaser with a 6 inch heel;

A clear shoe will go with EVERY outfit, but remember to clean them with wet wipes as they will build up dirt and crud which is a pain to wipe off once the smears are dried. 

Here is a fantastic pair in black that I have bought and worn reguarly before - they provide plenty of support and the openess of the shoe style means that there is lots of room for my feet to breathe and swell after a busy shift.

Finally, these are my dream lapdancing shoes.  Covered in shiny diamante that glints under the stage lights, elegant straps and heel, and super clear perspex to make my faketanned legs look a mile long....

 I bought an identical pair for the opening of a new stripclub that I worked at and they made me feel like a princess and were super-comfortable and easy to dance in, even for new shoes.  I also had a really good couple of nights, so I now consider them my 'lucky' pair!!

Why not click on the links and buy a pair for yourself today???

Enjoy Stripping..... xxoxo Sassy & her battered tootsies