Sexy Santa Stripper's outfit - good or bad this year?

Any stripper worth her salt loves dressing up and the holiday season is, for me, the really exciting time when I dust off my furs and ermine and dress as Santa's little helper for as many shifts in December as I can manage.
You might think that with the current financial climate that a lapdancer should play it safe and stick to black lingerie and the LBD.... WRONG!
Guy's love a woman in a decent santa outfit.  They are all out on their annual Christmas do.  These are guys who visit stripclubs but once or twice a year, they have been drinking all day and are  operating in a pack mentality.  Not a violent, sarcastic pack of men trying to get one up on each other, like you get with Saturday nights stag do's.  No, these guys are going to be loud, drunk, but reasonably well behaved - well their boss is with them, overseeing the proceedings after all!  So wearing something in red or white that the guys can chat and joke over is a great conversation starter and dance getter.
A stripping christmas outfit falls in two camps - the Christmas themed teeny weeny bikini versus the fun cover-up dress.  Here's a picture of a girl in Hooter's - she has found a hotpants and bikini set and stuck tinsel on it.  That still making an effort, although a real stripper wouldn't be likely to wear something so scratchy that you can't pull on or off easily.

Thanks to Stinkie Pinkie at Flickr.

Now I've got a fairly good body which is toned and trim most of the time, but I do tend to over-indulge in the winter months.  I have a few similar versions of this outfit - red and white bikini's with a fur trim, that sort of thing.  They look good with lashings of fake tan and body glitter and lots of spangly diamante jewellery.

However, if I've had too many mince pies or want to look less slutty, more glam - say for a midweek crowd, then it's good to have a proper cover-up dress. Of course I am a lapdancer so my version of a cover up would look something like this;

thanks to photognome at Flickr!

This is a cover up as....

• The stripy stockings mean that I could not shave my legs that day.
• The big belt would hide any mince pie bloating
• The little cape would keep me warm and snuggly - perfect in a nippy stripclub, or as a comfort blanket if I'm working through stripper-flu.
• I'd only need to fake tan my top half. 5 minutes till I'm on stage? no problemo...

So to summarise - get your lapdancer's body into a santa's outfit this week! It may be gloomy weather and economic prospects, but that's why there are beautiful girls on this world ready to take their clothes off and spread their festive cheer!

P.S.  Unless, like me, your co-workers are all wearing bloody Santa's little helper outfits. In which case wear the black lingerie - you will stand out more!

Get naked a lot? Catch a lot of colds too!

I'm fuming.  I'm lying in bed, snotty rags and mugs of lemsip surrounding me like a germy entourage.  I've watched everything on BBC iPlayer, and all my videos.  My nose is so sore it looks like I have a ten gram a day coke habit, and I swear that the rising of my chest is making my tits sag a little bit more with every raspy cough.

I just got over a cold.  I felt like shit last week, as twitter followers may remember.  So I recuperate, then sashay back into the club three days later, ready to take it slow and push for VIPs rather than bone shaking booty dances.  And whaddya know? It was a shit Tuesday night, and I caught another fricking cold.  Again!  I coughed for the last hour, did the last stage show as a feverish chill ran through my body as it took off the scant nylon layers to stand butt naked in a draughty stripclub.

This cold is different from last weeks.  I'm running a temperature and coughing a lot, like some sick demon is tickling my throat.  I've also got achey muscles, especially in my lower back, which is making my bum hurt. last week was a sniffle - this one is a big nasty ickiness.

I'm fuming with the bad timing of it all.  Here I am, in the run-up to Christmas, a time when I should be hustling my butt off, and all the other girls are off making money while the proverbial sun shines and I'm tucked up in bed like a fleabag broad.

Strippers catch lots of colds.  Its the all-nighters we pull, the daily drinks, the proximity to hundreds of different guys every week, and the cavernous basement clubs which are freezing until the crowds fill it up.  Oh yeah, and we get naked and filthy unwashed hands try and touch us - a lot.  Guys and girls are always lunging in to slap my butt, brush against my thighs, play with my hair, and stroke my face.  I really don't care that customers get a little excited, I just wish that it could be handled without spreading germs all over me.  It would have been nice to work the fortnight before Christmas and create a little nest egg.

Ah well, there's always next year....  sniffle...

Stripper's all over Snoop Dogg

I went to see his Dogginess himself, Snoop Dogg, yesterday for some Friday night fun at the O2 arena.  (I'm not a big fan of the huge, soulless venue which stipulates that the show ends at 11pm precisely with no encore exceptions, as I'm more into dive bars and sweaty clubs when it comes to watching live music).  But the show was a fab suprise, as I hadn't realised how many songs were his - even though I was still battling my stripper-flu, I was waggling my little bottom on the terraces for a good hour and twenty!
Snoop Dogg is synonymous with strippers, biatches, ho's, and general gyrating hotty-botty's of the female persuasion.  I hear his songs at least once a night at any stripclub I've ever worked at, whether it's his old 90's stuff or the more recent bass-thumping crowd pleasers.  He even met a bunch of my friends when he launched his new album 'Doggumentary' at Platinum Lace last May.  I loved the pictures of him surrounded by sexy dancing pals in black spandex romper suits whilst he smiled, full row of gnashers gleaming, and sat on his trademark throne.
I was planning to go to work after, but then when the concert finished at 11pm I realised that I was too late even for the late late shift, and that my stripper flu was still hanging around, like a man in a dirty mac who is nursing the last drops of beer so he can drivel at the titties on stage.  I've spoken to lots of people who have similar symptoms of exhaustion and horrible hacking coughs full of green flem, so I guess something is going around ol'London town now that the heatwave has gone and the weather is changing back to it's usual drizzly English self.
So I guess I'll just have to keep my tiny toned arse sitting on the sofa for another night till my stripper flu subsides, and if I miss the club, I'll just recreate last night with some Snoop Dogg tunage...