Stripclub Stereotypes #10 ; The Bored Stripper

Every lapdancer can be categorised as a 'bored stripper' at some point in their life - or even a shift.
You've all seen them - groups of bored looking girls grouped around the bar, the dark corners, the edges of the club - waiting patiently for customers to come along.  The bored stripper will be staring into space, playing with her hair, twiddling with the straw in her glass, staring with glassy eyes at the stage where, perhaps, another bored stripper stands slowly  swinging her hips.
Watching a bored stripper on stage is depressingly painful to watch.  If she looks like she is waiting for a bus, occasionally pulling off an item of clothing - just tugging it down if she can get away with it - the bare minimum to get her tits out - then she's bored.  A bored stripper on stage will also move with the least effort possible - akin to a stripper sloth, perhaps with a half-hearted twirl thrown in to stop her dying of boredom.
The bored stripper watching is in a state of half-sleep.  She's hibernating, one eye on the door, like a snake in it's hole.  She's all coiled up, waiting to pounce, but there is no-one there, just an empty club with booming music reverberating round the empty seats.
Bored strippers have been known to wait for two, three hours a night, especially right now, the slow, slloooooww evenings of August, as everyone is either a) on holiday or b) don't want to sit in the dark looking at girls when they can ogle at them for free in the park.  This is the month when there may be more girls than customers for the majority of the evening - or worse, the whole night.  This is the month when the doors get cobwebs, tumbleweed rolls across the empty floor, and the glasses get polished over and over by the equally bored barman.  All the conversations have been had twice this week already, and the gossip only lasts till nine, ten o'clock, so the dancers fall mute and stare into space, daydreaming of VIP.
It's easy to spot a bored stripper - the problem is that as soon as she spots you, she isn't bored anymore.  She turns into the predatory stripper, and you my friend, are her prey as soon as you step through the door.

Coastal Lapdancing - A Weekend in Bournemouth

Whenever summer comes, London clubs are seriously empty, so it can seem like a good idea to pack up and head down the coast to where all the stag parties are.
I spent last weekend in Bournemouth, the stag and hen capital of Britain, hoping to make some juicy cash from the inebreaited masses.
It was a complete and utter ball ache from start to finish.
The club required you to be on the floor at 9 and finished at 6am, so it was going to be a long shift, in a strange club, with different rules, policy and layout.  Eeek...
After a 4 hour drive from London in a car filled with 4 fellow strippers, I was hot, sweaty and late.  We didn't even have time to go to the hotel, so I did my makeup in the car and did the rest in the club.
It was a real labyrinth, with more staircases than you can shake a stick at. The main floor was three flights away from the changing room, and the dance booths were a double flight of stairs from the main floor and bar.  By the end of the night, my feet were swollen and bleeding from dragging guys up and down the stairs.  Even worse, as it was stag party central, the dances were generally one at a time - few guys stayed for more than one or two, as they wanted to try lots of different girls, or were too cheap, or were too scared of the letters 'VIP'.

Arriving at the hotel at 7am, we were shown to a dingy room that stank of mould. I was sharing with another girl, and we quickly passed out, only to be woken up a few hours later by the concierge.
They had double booked the room, and we had to move ASAP - but the next room wouldn't be ready till 1pm, so we had to keep ourselves busy somewhere else for a few hours.
I packed my stuff and moved into an even crappier room, before passing out for another 2 hours.
The girls and I got to the club for our 2nd night, and it was super busy.  Unfortunately they take such a HUGE commission, I had to march up and down those fucking stairs with a steady succession of drunk stags and their pals for the next 9 hours straight to be in hope of earning anything back.

As I said, it was bachelor party central.  Some were dressed as penguins, with black leggings and colouful jock straps.  One was an ex-Olympic rower who was only interested in sex.  Another stag was dressed as a giant baby, with oversized nappy, bib, cap and a huge dummy swinging awkwardly from his neck.  Several groups had matching T-shrts, caps - one lot were all wearing antlers, which kept on turning up in strange places like the DJ booth, stage and at tip-out time, I swear I saw a pair in the managers office.  Dancer's are like magpies sometimes.

After working a Friday and Saturday night shift, it was time to drive home.  Sunday turned out, helpfully, to be the hottest day of the English year so far, a sweltering 30 degrees, but at least there was no traffic.  As I massaged my swollen feet and burning thighs and swore never to work in a club with stairs again, I counted my crumpled notes.  I'd checked the tip-out list, and I'd actually been in the top 5 of earners on Saturday, but with the commission, I'd lost well over a third of my earnings.  Take out the hotel and petrol money, stress and lack of sleep, and I don't think I will be going down there again for a while.
Unless, of course, the London stripclub scene comes to a standstill..... Then stripping in Bournemouth will suddenly seem an attractive prospect again.....

Stripper Stereotypes #8; The Glamazon AKA the Brazilian Lapdancer

The Glamazon's AKA The Brazilian Stripper - lean, sleek, glam.  As a stripper stereotype, they have been on the rise in the last few years as the sexy women of Brazil have been put on the map as more than just a girl from Ipanema.  Nowadays, you will find several girls from Brazil in any stripclub you care to visit, and boy were they born to do it.

The average Brazilian lapdancer has several things going for her.  Firstly, she can move.  Brazilians can shake their arse like no-one else, having practised since birth doing the salsa, meringue and rumba at carnivals up and down the country.  Their booty shaking is an art form, as it doesn't just wobble and spill - it undulates rhythmically, matched by a beautifully still, curved S-shape back.  It's mesmerising to watch, especially when said bottom is draped around a pole with brightly coloured strobes playing across her curves.

Ah, those curves!  Curves of some shape or form are pretty much a pre-requisite for a stripper, and the Brazilians have beautifully pronounced bodies.  The arse is big, the tits are big, the lips are big.  Brazil is one of the world's top countries in the world for plastic surgery, and it's de-rigeur for a woman to have several enhancement op's. I know one Glamazon who has had 4 or 5 plastic surgery procedures already, and she is only 19 years old.  Even better, many of the operations seem to have been designed with taking your clothes off in mind.  Take the bottom enhancement, or 'bum-job'.  Basically a boob-job for your arse, silicon implants are inserted into your cheeks to give it a nice, rounded look.  Your bottom will forever be perky and will look great in jeans.  However, many Brazilian girls have had this procedure whilst cultivating a tiny waist and super lean body, which means that their bottom looks a little boxy - less curvy, more like a shelf to rest your beer on. Or perhaps they double-up as a great cocktail shaker?

Brazilian Glamazons always have amazing manes of hair, like a superhero.  It's thick, glossy and black, and in fantastic condition because Brazil invented the Brazilian blowdry and statistically has more beauty and hair products than Imelda Marcos had shoes.  Naturally, this is hair on the head, as the rest of them are hairless and waxed as smooth as a baby's bum save a tiny landing strip nestling above their (surgically enhanced) designer vagina.

Brazilian lapdances are a trend that is set to rise as it's a funny trueism of lapdancer immigration that where one girl goes, her sister's follow (literally in many cases).   Like the Eastern European stripper demographic, they travel in packs, work in packs, and can magically break off from loud, incessant chatter in their native tongues to swoop on the nearest approaching customer.  Still, I do love the Glamazon's - the Brazilians are such a friendly, uplifting bunch and can really get a stripclub going with that carnival party atmosphere.  Now where's my mojito?

Seductive Stringfellow Strippers

The Stringfellow Angel's have been a part of London nightlife for eons. Peter Stringfellow is famed for having the hottest women working as sexy strippers, night in, night out.  His Covent Garden club has been going for years, and has had its fair share of controversy and tabloid moments.

I got a chance to pop in as a customer recently, which made a nice change from being a dancer, as I had the girls dancing for me for a change.  I chose a brunette as my champion, very French looking - like a curvy Latietia Casta, with a delicious looking arse.  It was set off by an expensive looking black girdle and stockings, and waited under a little black dress, daring to spill out at any moment.  She had a remarkable way of taking off and playing with her panties, kicking her legs up and pulling them off like a saucy burlesque queen.  Those knickers were a focal point for the whole dance, as she nibbled on them, her pearly white teeth biting them as she pulled them all over the place.  It's a trick which, sadly, I don't do as much as I used too, but my smalls are going to get played with a lot more now that I've had a reminder!

When you walk into Stringfellows, it's all dark, plush velvet drapes falling onto an even plusher carpet.  It has two floors - one is baroque, but the downstairs is like a circus - it's crazy, and thats where all the action is.  I was really impressed by the standard of girls - most were fairly pretty, and there were a good dozen absolute stunners - real beautiful faces and bodies.  As a lapdancer myself, I appreciate the hard work that goes into looking good - and some girls looked really good.  The outfits for me were a bit same-y, little black/white dresses abounded, all in the same cut - but then in the Stripping world, Peter is renowned for having a strict dress code (and weight code - if a dancer gets too big she is suspended).  I like a bit more personality and zanieness in my outfits, but he goes for the classic ladylike seductress look I suppose).
There are lots of stripclubs in London - Stringfellows, Secrets, Spearmint Rhino, Windmill, For your eyes only, and of course the new Platinum Lace and the famous dives of the East End.  I'm going to try going in as a customer and review a few of them - or indeed just do a few shifts working at each - after talking to a girlfriend of mine who wanted some recommendations.  Poor lesbian, they know there are plenty of hot women dancing in these places but are too scared/not allowed to go in.  I might even bring her with me next time - there are a couple of lesbian stripper nights but no full-on, dedicated club that's women only in London.  But I'm glad I started the tour at Stringfellows - it's the most renowned club, earnings and looks wise, and the seductive strippers at stringfellows carry a lot of prestige on their sexy shoulders.

The Standout Slut Outfit

Why look like a slut when you're a dancer? Well, the major problem for a girl trying to attract a guy when standing in a room full of beautiful women is that she is standing in a room full of beautiful women.  Like a peacock with it’s brilliant plumed tail, strippers must find ways to stand out. For times of emergency, break the glass – and pull on your STANDOUT SLUT OUTFIT!!!

A standout slut outfit needs to be composed of two main elements;

It must make a girl stand out from the others

It must scream slutty

The standout slut outfit works a charm if used properly.  You have to be feeling fairly confident and good about yourself or else it can backfire and you will be back to square one in hustling terms. (You don't want to look like a slut if you are feeling crappy - it will screw with your mojo and you will go home feeling cheap and deflated.) It should be used like a little black dress (LBD) – they are both easy choices, with little thought/effort or forward preparation required.  You literally pull it on, and voila! You are ready to go hustle.

For an outfit to stand out, you have to think bright.  A stripper will never be a standout slut if she wears a black lingerie set – that’s the LBD category, and half the girls in the club will be wearing their LBD failsafe on any given night.

White, flouros and glittery numbers work well here.

Lace and fishnet details are great, and helps show a lot of skin.

 An ideal standout slut outfit would be an all white lingerie twopiece with stockings set off against a dirty caramel tan and plenty of bling jewellery

 Or a racy red number covered in Swarvoski crystals, with shiny slick patent shoes or boots, and set off with a feather boa – just totally outrageously slutty, like a street hooker.  

But you have to not only channel the standout slut in your outfit, you have to channel the right kind of attitude to go with it.  Less abused and battered victim, more a ball-breaking, go-getting slut who is reclaiming the word slut and would march at the front of a Toronto Slut Walk.

Strippers stranded by snow

There's a good thick 8" of snow across London at the mo, the city looks beautiful. My club has taken the winter weather and upcoming Christmas on board and all the girlsare trusses up in Santa outfits. As a blonde, I am loving the red and White, and may even be incorporating some ermine trim to match my spangle snowflake thong.
Still, the snow doesn't just give us dancers inspiration.
It also means that dancers can't get in, or, as happened last night, can't get home.
Imagine the scene - it was a fairly slow night, the guys weren't spending yet, when someone finds out that the trains are stopping. So many of the girls catch the train in from the suburbs or Brighton - it's about an hours journey, do their makeup and have a drink, and they catch the first train back at 5am.
Last night was hilarious though as at about midnight the rumour went round that the trains wouldn't be running in the morning. All theselittle Santa Helpers began panicking, frantically checking their iPhones and blackberries - banned on the floor of course but they are always hiding in our handbags. The DJ tannoyed for the manager who was immediately surrounded by women clamouring to be let go, that instant, to catch the last train at half past midnight. You have never seen so many agitated pert bottomed santas quaking in their boots.(high heeled ones of course)
Luckily the manager let them all go early, without even asking for a tip!!!
With theclub empty of girls, I soon found a customer and made a killing in VIP. Happy days!!!!

Stripper migration

This past week has been hell on earth. I have friends in all the major clubs in London - spearmint rhino, stringfellows, platinum lace, for your eyes only, secrets, hustler, Mayfair,browns, parkers, even the small seedy dives in soho and the east end. If I have a couple of slow nights in a row, I call up my friends and see what the crack is. Now I'm not the type of gypsy dancer who roams around all the clubs - I've been fairly faithful to mine for a few years now. No, I just like to get a feel for how the scene is, that's all, and it's a great excuse to gossip......

Well the word on the street?

IT'S CRAP EVERYWHEREGIRLS!!!!

Yep, there were long faces and tears in quite a few changing rooms last week, with unusual consequences. A few cat fights on and off the floor, another girl blamed her new brunette look and hit the (bleach) bottle, the bouncers got heavy in asking for tips, and of course there was a stripper migration.
The stripper migration was pretty major this time too, with even a few top earners changing allegiance - stringfellows angels moonlighting as platinum lace lovelies or spearmint hustlers.... Will they stay??? Watch this space

i spin around a pole and break my nose

I love my job, i really do......

but there are certain things, and certain nights, that really really get on my tits

like customers with haliotosis
like the security guys that become managers
like the skinnier girls
like the commission for just breathing, let alone taking my clothes off
like the ones that don't spend money on my hard - yes hrad - put the hours in work
like the ones that argue about the money like it should be a gift
like the times i can't have pudding because i have to watch my weight
or my skin
or my hair
or whatever piece of crap people fancy today

Today I span around the pole about a million times, then just when i was leaving for the changing room, some dumb idiot of a girl didn't hold the door open and it slammed into mine and our managers face. Yes. Very dumb.
But she didn't even say sorry, she just walked.
And it didn't hit the manager, just me. Right in the bridge. Big red lump.

Great, thats another few days of sitting at home unpaid for me then.....

and no, I don't have savings, I don't earn more than you, and I'm not blessed...
I get it when I can, I spend it when I can, and it infringes on every physical and emotional part of my being....

why do I do it?
Hell I dunno, why do you do your job, huh?