Sunday, 29 August 2010
I told him what I did for a living and he sort of paused. That's normal.
Then he said, "It's really good what you do because some men need to let out their sexual frustrations. Like old men who have lost their wives, or handicapped people in wheelchairs, or priests. Especially priests. Maybe if they hired women like you, they wouldn't have all that vent up sexual lust and go molesting boys."
Readers -- it takes a lot to shock me. But my mouth was hanging open. Maybe he was just trying to be nice.... but really?
First, it was insulting to me and what I do. I am not just a toy for desperate men. In fact, the majority of guys at strip joints are young, healthy, red-blooded specimens.
Secondly, this guy was even MORE insulting to the elderly and disabled. I mean, there are plenty of older men and men in wheelchair who are PERFECTLY attractive and capable of having wives, girlfriends and normal sex lives. Who is this guy to look down on them?
Isn't it a little too pitying to imply that these people are somehow inferior sexually to everyone else? Come on!
As for the Catholic priests -- boy, I didn't know what to say. Strippers prevent child sex abuse? Priests go to strip joints? What?!!!
The situation with the Catholic child abuse is seriously fucked up. I can't believe Catholic leaders preach against people like me, and then do such horrible things themselves. I feel so bad for the kids, I can't even tell you.
Anyway, I got as FAR away from this dude as I could at this party. He didn't seem drunk. He seemed sober and crazy, which is worse. So I fled. Now I am home. Venting. Phew. That makes me feel better. I hate running into people like that.
Saturday, 28 August 2010
Speaking of sugar daddies (see below post) here is the Sugar daddy of all Sugar daddies!
Anna Nicole Smith started as a flat-chested, struggling stripper.
Then she met this elderly patron who paid for her breast implants. With her rockin' new boobs, she rocketed off to become a Guess! girl and to marry the 'ol fella. So, for everyone's amusement, here's a little reminder snapshot of what that looked like.
I hope nobody thinks I'm being mean to Anna Nicole Smith. I used to really like her. She was so beautiful when she was young -- something we forget when we look at later, bloated photos of her.
I'm very sad that she died. I know that many moralists look down on her marriage to the guy. But life is complicated and everyone makes different decisions.
Friday, 27 August 2010
1. Desperate Young Boy Caught up in a "Stripper Girlfriend" Fantasy.
Google "stripper tips" and half the sites have nothing to do with how to become a stripper.
Many are from men's mags giving advice on how to DATE a stripper.
The desperate guys who try to follow these columns often have ridiculously high expectations. They think that if they can kiss up to a stripper -- be nice to her, listen to her, make her his "girlfriend," buy her a few drinks -- they will win an "ideal girlfriend."
Their "ideal" is basically just a free stripper. These silly boys think that if you start "dating", the guy will get unlimited lap dances and other perks from a totally hot woman -- for free! They can also brag to their friends that they are dating a sexy stripper.
Of course, this is not going to happen.
1. Experienced strippers can spot these guys from a mile away.
2. It's our job to charge for our services. Nobody is doing anything for free with you.
3. These guys are not looking for a real relationship with a real woman. They're just looking for some sort of fantasy.
When I was much younger, I "dated" a few boys I met at work. Never again.
These guys wanted me to perform all the time, even before and after work. What did they think? That I am a stripper 24-hours a day? No! After my shift, I put on big loose PJs and reading glasses and flop on the couch.
2. The Sugardaddy
In some clubs, getting a sugardaddy quickly turns into prostitution. I have nothing against hookers myself, but I have never gone down that line.
I have never taken money for sex.
But, when I was much younger, rich guys would approach me for seeing me outside of work.
I knew the deal. They would pay for me at nice bars or restaurants and buy me drinks. In return, I would hang off their arm in a skimpy skirt, flirt around their friends, and provide a little sexy entertainment at their parties.
I did sleep with a few of these guys, but it was because I wanted to. Maybe we were all a little tispy at a party together and, you know... But they never tried to pay me cash and I never asked for it. It just wasn't like that.
Would you call this "dating"? Maybe. I walk around and see alot of young, pretty girls with obviously older, uglier, richer looking guys. I don't know if what I was doing was much different than what they are doing.
3. The Industry Boyfriend
If I'm going to date someone, he needs to understand that I am a relatively normal person, too. On my days off, I wear loose jeans, do my laundry, pick up groceries and maybe hit the gym. On the blessed evenings when I am not on work, I even like to cook dinner.
Of course, neither the Desperate Young Boy or the Sugardaddy are interested in this. They are only interested in the stripper part of me, not the Me part of me.
Ironically, guys who have worked in the sex industry are much more understanding of this. They totally get that you are one (fictional) person on stage, and another person off stage. I think they understand it alot more than "normal" guys.
There are a surprising number of men in the industry: Club owners, club managers, bouncers, barmen, cameramen in the porn film or online industry, etc, etc.
Now, beware that you should never sleep with your boss. It just leads to ALLLL sorts of trouble.
I have to say that since I started stripping more than a decade ago, my best and longest relationship was with a bouncer at another strip joint.
4. The Totally Normal Man
Strippers are just normal women. We all seek the same thing: a caring, responsible, loving, loyal partner. Now that I'm turning the big 3-0, I am increasingly looking for a totally average dude -- good, steady salary, house in the 'burbs with a golden retriever...
The problem is, it's hard to convince a stand-up, decent guy to date a stripper.
Because -- let's be painfully honest here -- Good Citizens look down on us as being sleazy.
How many accountants want to bring their wife or girlfriend to a company dinner and introduce her as a stripper?
How many young professionals want to bring a stripper home to mom?
How many men can prevent the (totally natural) instinct to be jealous when his wife or girlfriend is taking off her clothes and rubbing against strange men? You can explain all you want that it is WORK, and that you are actually aren't attracted to any of the guests -- but that won't make your bf feel better.
Again, if he works in the sex industry, he'll be more open-minded. But a mainstream, respectable professional? I dunno.
Well, Mr. Asshole College Guy, that was a long answer. I hope you like it!
P.S. I don't believe in lying to people when I start to date them about what I do. I think it's dishonest and makes it worse. I'm just honest, even if it turns some guys off.
P.P.S. I think this is a MUCH harder issue for prostitutes.
Sunday, 15 August 2010
Maybe my initial plan of blogging EVERY SINGLE day was a little ambitious. After the first month, I was feeling bogged down, or maybe blogged down.
So, I'm thinking of slowing down to a few posts a week, instead of writing every day. Maybe every other day.
By the way, I am actually working overseas right now -- am have been since I started this thing. The wonders of the laptop and the Internet!
For about two weeks, I might take the opportunity to do a little travelling in the area.
But please don't go away --oh, all four or five readers I have. I will be back!
Friday, 13 August 2010
Well, I don't like to call them fake. I'd say augmented.
When I started dancing in my 20s, I was a natural 34B-36C. This isn't very big by stripper standards, but it's reasonably busty considering that I am very small, about 5'1".
The problem was... one of my breasts was noticably smaller than the other. Most women are not perfectly symmetrical, but this was obvious. One was full and attractive. The other was a little odd shaped and droopy. I was so worried I even went to have them scanned -- but there was nothing wrong, just a natural oddity.
I didn't have them done till I was about 23, when I had the money for a good surgeon, and when I was totally sure this was my career for the next few years.
I'm glad I didn't go get cheap surgery at 18, like alot of girls do.
At this time, I had gotten into much better, more professional shape and had lost some weight. So my boobs were closer to the 34B range.
For my surgery, I had them evened out, so to speak, and extended to a 36D.
That's the exact same size as Marilyn Monroe, one of my icons.
Isn't it ironic that she was considered incredibly busty in her day? But today, a 36D on a average-sized American woman is pretty standard. Maybe because everyone is so much fatter these days.
I had the doctor put the implants UNDER the top layer of muscle, which creates a more natural look.
Because I didn't choose implants so big that my boobs would have their own centre of gravity, they look reasonably natural. Also, because they more of less fit my build, I don't have obvious signs like stretch marks. I have enough natural fat and skin to cover them.
I've had them almost 7 years now and will keep them even after I leave the profession.
Wednesday, 11 August 2010
Coming from Canada, I was shocked by the violence and poverty. I don't mean this to be insulting about America, where I lived for years and loved. I'm just saying that life is different. (We have violence and poverty in Canada, too, but not like this). Plus, I probably wasn't seeing the greatest part of American life at that time.
The club wasn't in the world's best neighborhood, but it was really great inside. It was huge, with about 100 girls on staff and tons of support staff. I looked quite nice, with a marble lobby and a large dining area, set up with small round individual platforms with poles.
Another change for me was working with a much more mixed raced group of girls. Many were African American or Latina, whereas, back home, it was mostly White, Asian or maybe some Carribbean. Another difference was that the New York girls tended to be bigger, especially the blacks and Latinas. Big breasts, big butts. Back home, the girls were thinner.
It was about this time that I got my boobs done. It was my first surgery!
Monday, 9 August 2010
Several things happened in 2002 and 2003, when I was 22.
The first thing was that I finally reconciled myself as a stripper, not a student stripping part-time, not a girl going through a naughty phase, but a full-on, full-time member of the sex trade.
The second thing is that I saw a photo of Dita Von Tesse in Playboy. She was on the cover and she was so gorgeous, so classy and old-fashioned. At this point, she wasn't very famous yet -- maybe in the burlesque world -- but not as a popular figure like she is now.
Also -- and I'm dating myself -- this is before everything on earth was online. This is before Youtube.
I looked everywhere for her videos. And I finally found copies of "Bound in Stockings" and "Naked and Helpless."
I decided I had to see her live. I just had to.
So I used some of my hard-earned money and flew to New York City.
I had never been to New York. I wasn't exactly a small-town girl anymore, but I was still wowed.
And I was so wowed by her. Wowed by the whole place. I really wanted to stay.
Back in Canada, I had long moved from my original strip joint -- the place with the lunch bar my friends and I once went to as a joke as students.
I was working at better places, more like gentlemen's clubs. But I was still a stripper, someone who just took off her clothes for money. And what Dita Von Tesse was doing was an art.
My friend in New York had a little art photo / erotic magazine and hired me as a photographer and writer, and sponsored me to work. Back then, it wasn't hard for a Canadian to get a work visa, even though it was after 9/11.
Saturday, 7 August 2010
I increasingly found classes and professors boring and pointless.
Plus, the fewer classes I took per semester, the further away my goal would be. Would I be an undergrad for five years? Six? I was already almost 21. Would I become one of those losers who are 24 and still trying to pass Psych 201 surrounded by 19-year-olds? Then what?
I was in an arts program with no direct job prospects, not like someone coming out of business, law, medicine or accounting. Even someone coming out of nursing or education would have a clear-cut path in front of her.
If I wanted to continue working in the field of my double major, sociology and psychology... Well, sociologists are essentially academics. I'd have to continue into a graduate degree. Same with being registered as being a professional psychologist -- you can't do it with a BA. Some provinces require a masters, and others a PhD.
I looked at some of my friends, living off of instant noodles, sleeping on horrible mattresses on the floor of shared flats, studying all night, worried about student loans -- and I decided that I liked my cushy life more.
So I finally left with about 2/3 of a degree.
It wasn't an easy decision. I didn't leave home to go to college to become a stripper. I know how bad that sounds.
But I also wasn't forced. Some people think that every woman in the sex trade is trafficked or a "sex slave" and that's just not true.
That same year, a good friend of mine also dropped out of school, pre-med. She grew up with horses and love them. All she wanted to do was train them. So she went out West and started apprenticing at a ranch. Later she would open her own horse farm.
I'm sure her parents were shocked at her decision. Why would someone muck out a barn instead of being a doctor? But I think she was happy.
Thursday, 5 August 2010
The "real" girls on stage didn't talk much to us, unless it was bossing us around to fetch them a drink, which was usually iced tea or something in whisky glass.
News alert for clients: Strippers pretend they're socializing and drinking with you, but alot of them are cold-stone sober businesswomen. They accept your drink because the club gets cash out of it, not because they want it. (Others are total drunkards, too, though).
You might think that being the cocktail waitress would at least be safer and easier. It's not true.
Despite what they might say about club security, men are still going to grab your ass, boss you around, leer at you and ask for sexual favors. They don't know the difference between the various scantily dressed girls around. So Coco brings your drink and Candy strips for you -- or is it Candy bringing the drink and Coco stripping for you?
After a while I thought -- If I'm already scantily dressed and having to work the room, I might as well strip. After all, the only difference between my bikini / lingerie and what a stripper wore was very small -- let's say 5 square inches of fabric. So people could see my nipples. Whoop dee doo.
So I asked for a promotion and my manager gave it to me. I could start stripping in the mid-day shift. (You have to work your way up to the late shifts, which earn more.) Suddenly, I was basically double what I was earning before.
Now I was working noon-4pm Monday to Friday for lunch ($500). Plus I still did my cage dancing gig on weekends ($100).
The $600 a week -- plus tips -- was a record high for me then. I know it sounds like peanuts now. But remember, this was 10 years ago and I was just a kid.
I only remember such details because I used to keep a diary. Otherwise, this whole portion of the blog would be impossible to write.
I was 20 years old by this time. I was a full-fledged stripper. I was living in my own cute flat (not a dorm). I could afford to eat out and buy clothes. Basically I was earning what college grads might get as their first professional office job after school, though I was still in school and only working 25-30 hours a week.
But my studies were falling by the wayside.
Freshman year, I took a full load -- 5 courses a semester.
Sophomore year -- 4 courses a semester.
By junior year -- 3 courses a semester, and the dean's office downgraded me to "part time."
At this rate, I would need an extra year to graduate -- I'd be in college for 5 years. I figure I'd hang on for the ride and enjoy it.
Tuesday, 3 August 2010
From the BBC, in Britain. You can click on the link for the whole story:
- A ban on using jobcentres to advertise for strippers and lapdancers is expected to be announced this week.
- The new ban is expected to apply only to so-called performance jobs, and not to adult industry shop or bar staff.
- Figures show that jobcentres advertised more than 350 jobs in the sex industry in 2008.
Monday, 2 August 2010
I can't tell you how satisfying it was to hold hard, cold cash in my hot little hands after my dancing weekends.
Then came my cocktail waitress job for $10 an hour. That might not like alot more than the library, but I got paid in cash and made tons of tips. By then, I was pulling in about $400 a week -- about four times my library gig.
I could pay my bills without worrying. I moved out of the crappy dorm room into a cute little apartment. So I should have been happy, right?
No, the human mind is greedy.
The library seemed fine till the exotic dancing came along.
Then the dancing seemed fine till I found out how much cocktail waitresses made.
Then, spending half my days in strip joints, I realized how much more the other girls were making than me. (Waitresses are treated like second-class citizens at these places).
So I got greedy for even more.
Sunday, 1 August 2010
I went to buy some lingerie and shoes and ended up in minor debt.
With the blind optimism of youth, I thought I'd be able to do both jobs -- the cocktail waitress thing and the cage dancing -- AND be a good student.
My college was a good one, but lax. It wasn't Harvard. Basically, if you wrote the papers and passed the exams, nobody cared if you were in class, unless you were in a senior seminar. (At that time, I was SURE my stripping life would be over by then. Ha!)
It was hard. For the second semester, I had to twist and turn to get classes that fell nowhere near 11 am - 4pm, meaning I didn't get my first choices. Here was my basic schedule
Monday - Thursday
9am. Pack stripper stuff in advance.
9:30-11. Eat breakfast in class (professor hated me for it).
11-11:30. Run down to the bar. (Isn't it funny that it was within walking distance of school?)
11:30-noon. Get dressed, do makeup and hair.
Noon-3pm. Work the lunch shift as a cocktail waitress
3-3:3opm. Undress, take off makeup and try to brush out the stupid amount of hairspray in my hair. Take a shower if time
4 pm-5:30pm. Back in class
6pm. Starving. Eat dinner.
Technically, I should have been doing homework at night, but I was often too beat, or too wired.
Friday -- my worse day
Same as above, only with an extra hour of rest from 6-7 pm
8-9 pm. Dress, make-up, hair and go to work
9pm-1am. Work as cage dancer
Free! Free all day! Mostly slept in late and did errands around the house or went grocery shopping.
8-9 pm. Dress, make-up, hair and go to work
9pm-1am. Work as cage dancer
Free! Free all day! Free all night!
This was the only day I was "wound-down" enough to sit down and concentrate on homework.
And that's what I was stripping for, right? To pay for this schooling?
Saturday, 31 July 2010
The guy was like, "Uh. Right. So, take off your clothes."
I was wearing normal clothes -- shrunken T-shirt, short skirt, boots-- and stood there in my bra and panties.
"Go on," he said.
Suddenly, I got nervous up walking on stage. Why? I danced in front of hundreds of people on an elevated platform in a crowded nightclub and loved it. My bra and panties were no more revealing than a bathing suit.
I think I was nervous because it hit me that I was out of my depth. Oh my God, I though. I'm standing on stage at a strip joint.
Maybe the manager thought I was a loser, but at least a pretty and responsible loser, so he hired me. (They tend to like students, because we're reliable) I didn't become a stripper right away, but worked as a cocktail waitress. I would serve food and drink wearing lingerie. Again, I got a pay raise here. My dancing gig wasn't part of the sex industry -- it was in the kind of divey club where students go. This place had alot more cash.
So I got a new schedule -- I quit the library job, even if it meant giving up a portion of my financial aid.
I would waitress lunches Monday to Friday at -- oh, let's call it Sexy Lunch.
And I kept my cage / platform dancing on Friday and Saturday nights at Frat Boy Club.
It was about 20 hours a week, which some other kids do, too (though in less strenuous work, like being an assistant in a library).
I thought I could handle it. But could I?
Friday, 30 July 2010
First, readers expressed surprised that strippers smell nice and wear perfume. Duh. We're entertainers who ply female sexuality. That's our job -- to look nice and smell nice.
Anyway, their picks were "Very Sexy" by Victoria Secret and "M" by Mariah Carey.
Here's how I stay smelling nice.
Shower right before work.
Have NO excess body hair, bad breath, etc.
Put on deoderant in advance, and then wipe off if there is black light.
Spritz Chanel No. 5 right before going on.
After a dance, I clean off with Baby Wipes, and the reapply perfume.
Chanel No. 5 is expensive. But I think it has a great, baby-powder-sweet smell that is a pleasant surprise. Men expected heavy, cloying cheap perfume from us, and I give them a light, clean, classy innocent smell that brings to mind vintage sex symbols, like Marilyn Monroe.
It's always good to surprise people.
What do you wear?
Thursday, 29 July 2010
Coming from working-class stock, I had worked before that, but innocent stuff, like odd jobs and waitressing at a place kinda like Hooters. It was really tame -- just crop tops and shorts.
I desperately wanted to get out of province (yeah I'm Canadian) despite the fact that it would cost more money.
Believe it or not, I was actually a really good student. I even skipped a grade earlier on. So, with a modest scholarship, financial aid and Canada's lower tuition fees, I got my wish and moved to a big city, away from my parents.
I was free for the first time of my life -- free to go out to bars and clubs with my friends, free to stay out all night and come home with whoever I liked.
I loved my body back then. Loved it. I don't mean in a vain way, the way a rich woman feels high and mighty in her designer clothes. It was a natural, youthful love. I didn't go around telling myself I was beautiful, I just felt that youthful energy coursing through my body and my skin.
I miss those old days of loving my body. I didn't diet, work out, have surgery or fret about it. I could eat pizza and not gain weight. I could eat nothing and still have energy. It was my 18-year-old body and I danced and danced and danced the night away, flirting with any boy in sight.
I felt so beautiful and wild and free that I would jump up on any bar counter, speaker, anything, to dance. I loved the feeling of my body on me, and people's eyes on me.
One day, a manager at a nightclub I frequented (not a strip club) asked me if he could pay me to dance. There were two raised platforms in the middle of the dance floor with poles. And there was also a cage on the side. My job would be to act as entertainment, and get people moving when it looked like the crowd was slowing down.
He said it wasn't a strip or sex job, just a dancing one. And, God bless him, he was true to his word. I wore what I always wore to the clubs, like a tight t-shirt, short skirt and boots.
It was the first time that I realized that dancing was work. It's easy when you're having fun, and you take a break whenever you liked. It's hard when you have to be on time for shifts, stay on that podium for hours, and pretend to be upbeat when your feet hurt.
But I still had fun. I'd make sexy eye contact with the DJ, and he'd play my favorite stuff, feeling all cool. I'd go crazy up there on that platform, even though I had no idea what to do with the pole yet.
The money wasn't great, but it seemed like alot to a girl like me. I was also working part-time in the school library, as a condition of my financial aid work-study programs, so you can imagine the difference.
One day, for kicks, a bunch of us boys and girls went to a quasi-strip joint where they had a lunch buffet. It was this big neon place on a main street, which we had all joked about going to. Being dumb kids, we thought this was fun and SO risky.
The girls working there didn't do anything. They just lounged around on a thin stage wearing bikinis, while we sat down on stools, eating lunch on a counter, watching them and giggling. (Later, as a professional, I know the ignored us because we had CHEAP written all over us. But I didn't know that then).
Off in the distance were a few stages, with topless dances and, behind that, some hallways. At the time, it wouldn't have occurred to me that that's where were VIP rooms where sex acts were sold. All I saw was this: Right in front of me, I saw a girl make eye contact with a regular. She crouched down low and lowered her breasts right into her face, with a shit-eating grin. So he slip her a 20 before continuing his sandwich. She made 20 bucks doing basically nothing.
Huh. I played nonchalant when all of us left. But the next day I returned and asked how much they would pay me to just walk around in a bikini and dance, for the same hours I was working at the nightclub. And it was like three times more! And 100 times more than working in the library! The manager guy asked if I wanted to come back for a tryout in a few days, and I said yes right then and there.
Wednesday, 28 July 2010
Some top clubs actually charge a stripper to be there, the logic being that she will earn much more, since it's a classy joint.
There may be a house fee (a flat fee for the night), a percentage off your tips, or tips that you have to pay to get on the good side of the mamasan, bouncers or barmen.
Tuesday, 27 July 2010
Monday, 26 July 2010
The girl here says this is the level you will be at after 6-10 classes. If you go 3 times a week, that's only 2-3 weeks, so worth the investment.
It's obvious to me that she is a gym instructor and not a stripper, because it is technically crisp, but not sexy at all. To me, she looks like a girl doing a gymnastics routine.
But it has a good number of moves. If you can sexify this up, you'd have a decent beginner repetoire.
Sunday, 25 July 2010
You're better off taking a pole dancing class at a local gym. You kids are lucky because, nowadays, pole dancing is a popular exercise. When I started in the late 90s / early 00s, there was nowhere to learn but the job.
There are many pole dancing instructional videos of YouTube.
I chose to use this one from Miss Gigi because it really is for beginners.
Some say they are for beginners, but then show some girl hanging upsidedown by her ankles, and that's just intimidating for real beginners.
Also, Miss Gigi is a big, black lesbian, just to show that you do not have to be built like a Russian Olympic gymnast to do this.
I wouldn't say that Miss Gigi is the best pole dancer in the world. She's not even a professional stripper. But she's the only one to explain, simply and slowly, exactly where to put your feet, or which arm to pull and which arm to push.
Friday, 23 July 2010
Like it or not, you are heading into the sex industry, which means alot of work down there.
Now, you might not want to work down that (that slides you from stripper to hooker), but it's still got to look inviting. Here are the basics
Bikini wax -- This is the bare (ha! no pun intended) minimum. This is what you get when you're working a relatively tame job -- like serving drinks in a bikini, or working a topless bar where you keep your panties on, or being a burlesque dancer. The bikini wax takes off extra hairs on the side and forms a small, neat, downwards-pointing triangle. You never want a scraggly stray pubic hair to creep out the side of your bikini bottom / pantie. You will be considered low-class and no high-paying client will come close to you. You might was well paint DESPERATE TRAILER TRASH across your forehead.
Brazilian wax -- Traditionally, this referred to a waxing that took EVERYTHING off -- all the pubic hair, plus any stray hairs around the labia, perineum and anus. First you do the front, then you spread your legs to do the middle, then you flip over and do the back. Nowadays, the term "Brazilian" also refers to the slightly less extreme version we strippers know as...
The landing strip -- This is similar to the Brazilian, but it leaves a thin rectangle of pubic hair. This is what I prefer, since I find the Brazilian makes me look (at least down there) like an 11-year-old girl, and it freaks me out. I'm 29 and retiring soon -- the underage schoolgirl look just isn't working for me.
Silly variations -- Some people get shapes carved into their public hair, like an arrow pointing downward. I find it silly and hard to maintain, but each to her own.
Anal bleaching -- This is only for real hardcore strippers who take it all off, and also do the extreme shows where the girl spreads her stuff so wide, and so close to the face of her clients, and you can practically see her kidneys. I remember going to a club once as a guest and a gorgeous young thing shook her ass at us. Lovely. Then she shoved her butt in our face and spread her cheeks so wide that we might have been doing a colonoscopy. Not lovely.
But I'm getting off track. Anal bleaching is for people who have a naturally darker discoloration around their anus. All of us have it to some extent, but it's more prominent in some. If you are unfortunate enough to have a brown-colored ring around your anus and you do full nude work -- well, you know what that looks like. I have never had this done myself.
Health and safety -- Except for snipping a stray hair, never do this stuff at home.
Spend as much as you can afford on the best, highest quality spa you can find. You're better off with a cheaper lipstick, one less outfit, and spending decently on something that can potentially harm your skin.
The good news is that Brazilians are now popular among the general public, so there are many places you can do them.
A million things can go wrong with having a stranger drip wax near your genitals.
Spotty bleeding, redness and soreness are actually relatively mild.
Even worse are allergic reactions, blisters, burns and even skin infections that require medical care and antibiotics.
Not only is this painful and unhealthy, but it can keep you out of work for a while.
So go to a good spa.
Pain -- I won't lie to you. This is not pain-free. But if it is excrutiating, then something is wrong -- probably an inexperienced technician.
The Bikini Wax is not too bad. You may wear paper undies to make the triangle shape. A soft wax (that should feel quite warm, but not burning hot like it's hurting you) will be applied to the area. The technician will apply a strip of paper or cloth to the wax. When it cools, she will rip it off in one go, taking the hair and follicles with it. It stings for a few seconds.
The Brazilian hurts more but, surprisingly, it's the pubic part that's the worse. The labia / anus part sounds scarier, but there must be fewer nerve endings down there. Still, it's not fun and it takes more time.
Tips: Take an Advil or other painkiller 30 minutes before your appointment.
Try to go right after your period if over. PMS bloating makes it worse, and being on the rag is just gross during this procedure.
Make sure you go to a good spa -- one that will stop if you are uncomfortable, and one stocked up with soothing or anti-allergy cream.
I'm doing all the things I'm supposed to. (I think. At least according to those "how to blog" columns)
I post very regularly -- every day. This is my 19th post.
I use lots of photos.
I give good practical advice.
My blog has a focus -- it's not just, "I had a coffee today"
My topic is definitely sexy.
I use my "tags."
I even "ping"!
And, unlike many other how-to-become-a-stripper blogs (which get way more readership), I'm not trying to sell you my book of "stripper secrets" for $19.99 on PayPal. I'm actually doing this out of the goodness of my heart.
But I haven't had many visitors to Coco Undressed. 30 before 30 kindly left me one message.
But I think I have few visitors except for me.
Can anyone explain why? Does it take several weeks for the blog to "register" on the Internet? It doesn't come up on Google searches, so how can anyone find me?
Thursday, 22 July 2010
This really is a beauty -- the whole thing, the girl, her natural healthy body, the pose that is both sexy and demure, the look in the half-hidden eyes, the black and white photography.
This is stripping at its classiest. This is how you snag that rich sugardaddy at a gentleman's club, instead of doing $10 lap dances for college boys.
Look at her breasts, ladies. They aren't giant. Nor does she look like a natural glamazon. But she's in terrific shape -- looks like diet and exercise to me, not surgery.
Wednesday, 21 July 2010
Platforms vs. Straight-up heels.
I always choose shoes with a platform, because I am petite and have tiny feet -- a US size 5. That means there is just not enough length in my foot to carry off a 6" heel that starts from the ground.
The pro of the platform is that it gives you extra height ("lift") without requiring extra heel ("incline")
That top, small photo shows an exaggerated very high platform, and a relatively low incline. So your foot is not bent too much. That said, learning to dance in platforms like that takes a long time.
Ankle Strap vs. No Ankle Strap
Beginners definitely need ankle straps for two reasons: They give you extra support and balance. And they won't fly off and whack someone on the head while you're still experimenting with your spins on the pole. That's really embarrassing.
I personally don't like them because I have short-ish legs and I think the strap visually cuts them in half. I have a few, but the ankle straps are transparent vinyl.
Stiletto vs. Chunky Heal
If you have naturally long, skinny legs, stilettos look better. Chunky heels will look too heavy.
If you have naturally shorter, shaplier, or more muscular legs, stilettos can make your calves look even heavier, so go with a slightly chunkier heel.
If you're new to stripping, chunk heels give better support.
Rubber soles are better than fancy leather ones, since rubber soles often have grip.
If your shoes have very slippery bottoms, find textured soles to put on them, or bring them to a shoe fixer guy.
Learning to walk in stripper shoes
Move slowly. It's sexier that way, anyway. I don't get young strippers who rush around act like they are trying out for the Pole Dancing Olympics. Take your time.
When you walk, put your heel down first.
Before you start stripping, take a week or two to break in the shoes.
Do two hours a day, then three, then four, etc, till you can stand a whole shift.
And do things while wearing them.
You will discover a whole new world of things you can't do -- walk up and down stairs, push a cart at a supermarket. This is all good training.
Nobody is paying you stand still at a strip club. You have to be comfortable enough to be maybe serving drinks, walking on and off stage, mingling with clients and dancing.
Beginners should start with a modest platform and a modest heel (say 2" rise with a 3" incline). Or, even easier, just a normal heel that is 3-4".
You should choose ankle straps and a chunky-ish heel.
You should practice, practice, practice.
There's no worker's comp in stripping. You fall off a slippery, dark stage your first night and break your ankle, nobody is paying the hospital bill. And you'll be out of commission for weeks.
Two Great Beginner Shoes: Vanity and Seduce, from Pleaser
They look sturdy, have ankle straps, and modestly sized heels with no platform.
Yes, the heels still look thin by Non-Stripper standards, but at least they aren't those tiny ones that are made of shiny metal and come down to a sharp point.
Images from Pleaser, the creme de la creme of stripper shoes. http://www.pleaserusa.com
Tuesday, 20 July 2010
It ragged on Doris Mar for having fake-looking breasts. And they have a point. Her boobs have all the telltale signs: They are square-ish. The space between them is too wide and too clearly defined. Real breasts are soft, round and have natural curves.
That said, Doris Mar got a Playboy cover. So she must be doing something right.
This is a total no-no. Sheyla Hershey of Texas got 38KKKs put in. She hauls an extra gallon of fluid around with her every day. All I can say is that it must REALLY hurt her back.
Image from the Times Union.
Do you know whose breast implants I really like? Nicole Kidman's. She went from nothingness to being statuesque and elegant. They aren't exactly stripper big, but I still like them.
Sunday, 18 July 2010
1. Make two fists. Now pull your arms back while thrusting your chest out and chanting "I must! I must! I must increase my bust!" No, just kidding. Here's the real list of 10 steps for plastic surgery.
1. Budget and schedule. It's going to set you back $5,000-$10,000 and keep you out of work for two weeks, so be sure.
3. Before the surgery, you may be asked to make some lifestyle changes, like stop smoking.
4. In America, at least, this is an outpatient procedure (meaning you don't stay overnight in a hospital).
5. You will be given either local anesthesia and a sedative (you will be awake, but groggy) or full anesthesia (you will be asleep). I'm a wimp, so I chose option two.
6. The operation takes an hour or two.
7. When you wake up from the anesthesia, you will rest for several hours with your breasts bound in bandages or special support bra.
8. Either your friend takes you home -- and takes care of you -- or you stay in the hospital. You will feel like shit after, so make sure you've arranged a ride and company for that full first night. If not, pay for the extra hospital night. Cabbing it alone isn't good enough. You may be vomiting. Your wound may not have "drained" yet. You can't be alone.
9. You will be sore for several days, and can't do strenuous physical activity.
10. Most people can go back to work for a week, but strippers need longer. Post-surgical recovery is fine if you're wearing a suit and sitting at a desk. If you're naked, and all your bruises, drainage and scars are on show, that's different. Plus, you really don't want to go spinning around the pole when your body is still that sensitive.
Saturday, 17 July 2010
There are slight variations -- American men like enormous boobs, and the more rural, the bustier they want them. New Yorker men are not adverse to big breasts, but some of the more sophisticated clients can be turned off by obviously trashy, unnatural boobs.
While nobody is going to complain that you're busty, Europeans and Asian are less taken with busts, and generally want a more proportionate body.
(Side note: Europeans and Asians are also less forgiving when it comes to fat. Meanwhile, black men are the most forgiving to chunkier girls).
So... do you have surgery?
Say no if:
You're just starting out . Wait and see if you want to work in the sex industry long-term.
You're just stripping one year to pay off a student loan. That is, unless you want big boobs even after you become a lawyer, accountant or whatever.
You're broke. It's not worth going into debt for.
If you are naturally very flat chested, consider it. You can go up a cup size or two, and it will still look natural and you can keep them after your stripping days.
The best candidate
* Has saved up some money and time off after working in the industry for a while
* Feels she definitely wants to stay in the sex industry and make a career of it
* Really feels she will look better and make more with bigger breasts
Friday, 16 July 2010
But it also highlights things that are not usually visible -- especially anything white or liquidy. (Ew).
* Deoderant (apply before you work, and then wipe off before you go on stage)
* Bits of toilet paper (use baby wipes instead after you go to the loo)
* Pills from white clothing (wearing a fluffy white track suit right before stripping is stupid)
* Bodily fluids. I know. Disgusting. But spit, scabs or, really, anything will show up.
The good news is that black light is pretty much passe. It's retro 80s.
Drawing from www.lasvegasweekly.com
Thursday, 15 July 2010
* It smells bad.
* The other girls look miserable or, worse off, abused. I'm old enough to remember the time before smoking bans. Some places had guests who threw lit cigarettes at the girls.
* The girls look obviously drunk or drugged. There will be some drugs and booze at any joint, but you don't want to work somewhere where everyone is an addict, because you will become one, too.
* The manager is an asshole the first time you meet him.
* Someone immediately tries to solicit you / pressure you for sexual favors, whether it's the manager, barman or bouncer.
* There don't seem to be enough security / bouncers to keep the girls safe.
* It's empty of customers even when it should be busy, like a Friday night.
* The girls are far less attractive than you.
All of the above reek of desperation. And you are not desperate. You are a woman making a choice on how to earn your money.
Choosing your first strip joint is really important. It establishes where you are on the stripping totem pole, and therefore your future in the business.
You don't want to aim too low. The sleezier the job, the higher chance of your being abused.
Plus, if you look like Jessica Alba, you don't need to settle for a place where the staff are toothless and have C-section scars.
But you might not be able to aim too high either -- a top gentlemen's club might not hire a totally inexperienced girl right off the street, especially if she is not a Barbie doll.
Check online reviews on strip joints in your area. If they say "filthy. $2 blowjobs" then run, run away.
If you have the cash and a supportive male friend, go one night as an undercover "customer."
Make a list of places you would like to work, and then approach them one by one.
Take your time. If you have to work at McDonald's or Walmart in the short-term, so be it. If you're a bit out of shape and being rejected by the better clubs, take time to get in better shape, then try again.
Wednesday, 14 July 2010
High heels do wonderful things for a woman.
They instantly make you several inches taller, several pounds lighter and leggier.
Because they change your center of balance (you are tilted forwards), they encourage you to stick out your tits and ass and straighten out your torso. You just try slouching in very high heels.
When I put on a pair of heels, I feel instantly sexier, even if I'm not at work and just walking down the street.
But, heels are also bad for you, when you have to be on your feet in them 8 hours a day. Doctors warn about damage to your legs and feet. And, no matter what you do, they will pinch.
Here are some tips for coping.
* Take off your shoes whenever you have a break
* Wear flats when you are off work. I know. It's a blow to the old vanity to go about your personal life looking like a boring housewife, but it's good for your legs.
* Invest in high-quality heels. You can skimp on cheaper lipstick -- nobody will know the difference. But you need good shoes. They don't have to be designer, but they cannot be those cheap plastic / faux leather things that give you blisters.
* Buy a half-size up and put a cushy pad at the bottom.
* Regularly soak your feet and take off that callous on the ball of your foot.
* Occasionally get a leg massage so you don't get varicose veins, which are caused by too many hours standing or dancing in stressful positions.
* Personally, I prefer either open-toed models (which are sexier, and don't pinch your toes) or boots (which give you support). I don't like things that look like a pump, but that's just me.
Strippers are divided on whether to use dancers shoes. (There are a good selection at www.danceshoesstore.com). These are shoes for people who do ballroom, swing or Latin. The plus is that they are built to be strong and comfortable enough for what is essentially a sport. And stripping is a sport! And they don't look too bad, since they are made for performance. They often come in silver or gold. Some places, like the above website, also have dancers high-heeled boots, which I love. I love boots.
The only problem is that they often just aren't high enough. In the stripping world, 3" is short and 6" is normal. Experienced dancers can use 7" including the platform. So it's up to you.
Dancers shoes are good if you are starting out and not so great in heels, or if you are already quite tall.
If you are 5' and experienced, go for the fuck-me stilettos.
Black boots photo from the Sexy High Heels group.
Tuesday, 13 July 2010
The first is usually 11 a.m. to 7 p.m. This is for businessmen having lunch, or coming in after work for happy hour. The upside is that it is the safest shift. Plus, you can have normal, human waking hours. The downside is that you make the least money here.
The second shift is, say, 6 p.m. to 2 a.m. There is usually a little overlap with the last shift, since happy hour is popular. This is the one I like best, since I make way more money dealing with drunk guys out on the town for a night than I do with two suits having a sandwich between meetings. But, the hours are still saner than...
... The late shift. This is probably something like 9 p.m. to 5 a.m. or even later. This is the highest-paying shift, but the most dangerous. Anyone who is in a strip joint at 3 or 4 or 5 a.m. is trashed, aggressive and horny. Plus, it really screws with your body clock.
Your Body Clock
By the time you wind down from the late shift and get home, it's dawn. Usually, you can't sleep right away, since you're pumped for your shift -- plus, you really need a shower and some food. So you watch the sun rise like an insomniac. When I did this shift, I usually slept from about 9 a.m. to about 4 or 5 p.m. I took alot of sleeping pills and didn't see much of the sun. Honestly, I found it depressing.
Like I said, I prefer the middle shift. I get off at 2 a.m., get home by 3 a.m. and am asleep by 5 a.m. OK, I still took sleeping pills and it still isn't normal, but at least I'd be up by about noon, giving me a whole afternoon on daytime to run errands, run outside, go for a swim and generally feel human.
P.S. 24-hour strip joints have different shifts.
Image of Salma Hayek playing a stripper vampire in the 90s, before she made it big.
Monday, 12 July 2010
You need to be in good shape.
Moving all night burns calories, but you still need to exercise during the day, particularly in the beginning.
It doesn't really matter what you do, so long as you do it consistently.
Pick one aerobic activity, like jogging, swimming, aerobics class or martial art. (If you're dealing with a sleazy clientele, or your club is in a bad neighborhood, a self-defense class isn't the stupidest idea either).
And then pick one toning activity, like light weights or yoga.
Do a little every day of both aerobic and toning. Even if it's just 30 minutes of each a day, that's 7 hours a week.
And everyone has an hour a day -- even if you are a student or a mom.
That, plus your nightly dancing, should do it.
Sunday, 11 July 2010
You have to pick a stripper name -- partly to make yourself marketable, and partly for safety reasons.
You know the line between client and boyfriend. But the drunk idiots you're going to be dealing with aren't that smart. You're going to meet hundreds or thousands of men, many of them total losers. You don't want a stalker on your hands.
So you are not Jane Brown. Choose another name before your first day of work and stick to it.
If you look "ethnic," then go with CoCo, like me, or Ginger, Saffron, Jade, China. The fake Japanese names are nice, too -- like Maki. (Like sushi. Mmmmm. All sorts of dirty come-on lines you can make with that one).
Some people chose "real" names like Trisha or Tiffany. Some clients like the irony of boys' names, like Sam, Chris or Bobbi.
Other stripper regulars are luxury cars (Mercedes) booze (Brandy, Bubbles), colors (Pink, Amber), place names (Paris works, Connecticut does not).
I wouldn't do anything really stupid and campy, like Ivana Humpalot from the Austin Powers movie. That might amuse you at first, but then you'll be stuck with it. And forget high-paying classy clients.
I'm old enough to remember the late 80s. Remember Sam Fox? I remember being a little girl and reading an interview with her, saying that her mom called her Samantha, just so she could be called Sam. And I found that incredibly sexy. And I was, like, 8 or something. I remember that article, and the centerfold photo, more than any school lesson. No wonder I became a stripper.
What are you favorite stripper names?
Image from Retro Junk.
Saturday, 10 July 2010
Despite what you think, you don't need to look like a Playboy model. (And, actually, Playboy models come in all shapes and sizes, too).
One rule is that you DEFINITELY need to be toned -- no cellulite, no jiggling stomach, no love handles, no saggy butt. One thing all good strippers have in common? A waist that tapers in tauntly in the middle. So diet and exercise.
But after that, it doesn't matter if you are tall or short, petite or leggy, busty or small-chested, voluptuous or boyish. You can't change your genes (well, you can get surgery -- more on that later) so don't worry if you didn't win the stripper DNA lottery.
Different men have different tastes, and you should be proud of what you have.
Look at Kiko Wu, one of my favorite stripper-bloggers. She is short and reasonably small chested, but she is one sexy lady. Now, she's not going to snag a client looking for Marilyn Monroe, but she will get the ones with yellow fever.
As long as you are in good shape and are well groomed -- nails, hair, clothes, make-up -- strut tall. And if anyone gives you abuse about your looks, just calmly and politely back off.
Thursday, 8 July 2010
After all, strippers are idealized women, aren't we? We are the object of fantasy, both of men (who want to sleep with us) and women (who want to look like us). If we weren't attractive, men wouldn't leave their wives and girlfriends at home to spend their hard-earned cash looking at us.
So, how do you look like a stripper?
I know you've heard this before. But considering all the fat, ugly people out there, maybe some basic advice needs repeating.
1. Go through your closet and throw away all the junk food. Right now. I know it's wasteful. But since you will never buy that crap again, you'll never have to do this again.
2. Go to the grocery store and buy a ton of fresh fruits and vegetables, plus a little bit of lean meat and whole-grain carbs, like wheat bread or brown rice.
3. No more junk food.
4. No more sweets -- and that includes sweetened cereals, blueberry muffins, iced mochas, even sweet granola bars, which are basically desserts disguised as health foods.
5. No more fast food -- not even a small McNuggets. You are going to become Martha Freaking Stewart.
6. Cook and eat small meals at home.
7. Make water your main drink. Drink tons and tons and tons of it. If you absolutely have to supplement it with something, take coffee or tea (no sugar) or diet sodas. Don't even have juice. And keep the alcohol to a minimum.
You'll see a difference after a few weeks, without breaking a sweat even once at the gym. Though you'll have to do that, too -- more on that later.
Forget crash diets, weird diets or fad diets -- just follow the advice above and you'll be fine.
Oh, and no starving. You can't keep it up. Plus, it will make you so tired that you'll never be able to last a whole shift dancing.
Wednesday, 7 July 2010
This image is from a parenting blog, of all places. It ran with a story about a 14-year-old girl who got a fake ID saying she was 21. The article asks if the strip joint managers should be blamed. Well, duh. Yes.
OK, if any of my readers out there are 14, get out of this site, go get Mommy and have her install the Net Nanny. OK, no, you'll never do that.
But, at the very least, don't become a stripper. Please. Dear God. Wait till you're at least 18.
I don't want responsibility for sending children into the sex industry on my hands.
(Photo from Babble.com).
Monday, 5 July 2010
I know. That was the last piece of advice you wanted to hear.
If you're thinking of being a stripper, you're either
A) Doing something impulsive, that you think is racy, sexy and daring or
B) Desperately broke.
In both unfortunate scenarios, you are going to want to rush in.
Try your best not to -- even if you need to take a crappy part-time job at a fast-food joint or cleaning hotel rooms. Buy yourself a couple weeks of prep time.
Here's what you have to do
1) Get yourself in great shape through diet and exercise. (More on this later)
2) Consider taking a pole dancing class or following stripper dance videos as part of your workout.
3) Save up some money, so you can afford the next few steps.
4) Buy two high-quality high-heels that are comfortable and break them in. If you don't wear heels regularly, practice walking in them
5) Buy a few sexy outfits. This includes at least two G-strings, 2 garters, 2 sets of sexy undies and bras, plus one long dress with a high slit. Try dancer's stores if there are no stripper stores nearby.
6) Check out local strip joints in advance -- don't just wander into any random one. Find out the difference between those that do tame lingerie dances (good for starters) and thinly veiled brothels (bad for starters). Find out how much places pay and what conditions are.
7) Set up spa appointments, or make sure you know how to do the following at home:
8) Get your nails done, both feet and hands (which should have long, neat nails).
9) Get all your body hair waxed off, even down there.
10) Make sure your hair looks healthy, shiny and soft.
11) Buy lots of make-up -- you need enough that it's going to last all night as you are dancing and sweating. Make sure you have extra hair spray, hair elastics, etc.
12) If you have an alcohol or drug habit, cut down now. You want no weaknesses that clients or managers can use against you. You don't want to be one of those haggard old junkie strippers who just make enough to get by day by day.
Like I said, this should take a few weeks, which gives you plenty of time to think about it.
It's not like being Julia Roberts in "Pretty Woman." It means night after night of taking your clothes off for sleazy old men -- men who have never known an unpaid woman -- and getting cash stuffed into your crotch.
You can make a good living, but know what you're doing before you step into that first tryout.
Sunday, 4 July 2010
I say that jokingly, like I am in an AA meeting -- like it's a bad thing, but it actually isn't. Or it doesn't have to be.
I'm starting this blog to help young women (and maybe men) who want to get into the business safely and well.
Despite what you think, I'm a pretty boring person. (Shhhh. Don't tell my clients).
I live in a nice apartment. I consider myself a self-employed professional. I have a car, a savings accounts and a retirement fund. I don't drink, do drugs, or smoke (thus, the retirement fund). And, as soon as I've made enough, which will be really soon, I'm getting out of the business.
Lots of you are probably thinking -- she's not really a stripper. She's some bored suburban housewife making this up. Strippers are way more exciting.
No, we are not. We just act that way on stage. It's fiction. (Shhh. Don't tell my clients that, either).
You don't expect a Hollywood actress who was in an action film to be jumping over cars or shooting down aliens in real life, do you?
Anyway, if you're looking for razzle-dazzle tales about sexy johns and romps in some back room, there are plenty of other places online.
If you want to know the real life behind the pole and the G-strings, read on....