stripping

Unequal Desires: Race and Erotic Capital in the Stripping Industry

mandy — Sat, 22 Jan 2011 20:00:00 +0000

Racial inequality in the workforce seems sadly obvious, but something I had never before thought of was racial inequality in sex work. Logically, it makes sense that this brand of inequity would carry through to the sex industry, but it feels wrong somehow that anyone would be vying for a better position in sex work. As a feminist, empowerment in sex work has always fascinated me. Although the typical debates of this issue play a very limited role in Unequal Desires, the book creates the space for a new conversation about sex work and race.

Unequal Desires highlights race’s role in stripping—specifically, the stripper’s erotic capital. (Erotic capital is the value given to a body based on socially and culturally crafted visions of ideal beauty that are accepted by the majority of people in a given society.) Adapted from Brooks’ dissertation, her book reads like an ethnographic study. Her interpretation of interviewees quotes are very limited and the majority of the book contains her uncontaminated observations. The purity of her research gives it enormous academic credibility in my eyes, but may become tiresome reading for someone outside of academia.

What I found most interesting was Brooks’ choice of interviewing strip club staff as her primary source, and not dancers. This appeared to coalesce in the process of her research, as the dancers were less accessible at the three clubs at which she conducted her study: two straight clubs in New York City and one lesbian club in San Francisco. Hearing directly from bouncers, waiters, custodians, club managers, and a few dancers was incredible. It is nearly impossible to hear these voices unfiltered through media and academic sources, so Brooks’ fieldwork is invaluable in that sense; however, her choice to maintain an academic frame in her publication may limit the scope of individuals these voices reach.

Using stripping as a window makes racial discrimination in the workplace a new issue. Even among jobs that many find undesirable, racism persists and reminds the world that we are not in a “post-racial” state; in fact, it is quite the opposite.

Written by: Nicole Levitz, January 22nd 2011

Strip Club: Gender, Power and Sex Work

gwen — Mon, 20 Dec 2010 00:00:00 +0000

By Kim Price-Glynn

New York University Press

In Strip Club: Gender, Power and Sex Work, sociologist Kim Price-Glynn analyzes the organizational structure of a strip club to explore whose interests strip clubs serve and how. To gain an insider’s perspective, Price-Glynn spent fourteen months working as a cocktail waitress in a strip club. During this time, she observed, analyzed, and interviewed strippers, employees, and patrons.

Price-Glynn seeks to demonstrate that the strip club she researched, like the majority of others in the U.S., is organized in a way that benefits male employees and patrons while socially and economically marginalizing strippers. She weaves her research with sociological and organizational theory, along with other scholarship on sex work, such as Wendy Chapkis’ Live Sex Acts and Katherine Frank’s G-Strings and Sympathy. In an attempt to situate sex work as an occupation that entails intense emotional labor, Price-Glynn also draws heavily on the works of Barbara Ehrenreich and Arlie Hochschild.

Price-Glynn argues that the strip club perpetuates gender inequalities. She distinguishes, however, from a generalized argument that stripping and sex work inherently contribute to gender inequality and posits instead that strippers were marginalized by the organizational structure of the strip club. She notes that there were no women in positions of authority and that employees, who were explicitly told to always supervise the strippers, believed that strippers were never to be trusted, had low self-esteem, and used drugs excessively. In a fascinating portion of the book, Price-Glynn highlights the differences in how strippers and other club employees receive their wages. Employees have fixed wages while strippers receive money solely from tips; they also pay the strip club for their use of the club and are required to tip other employees, like the deejay. This system decreases their profits and creates a paradigm where the strippers appear to depend on the club (even if the club profits solely because they feature strippers).

Price-Glynn highlights the ways in which strippers’ safety is compromised by an intense culture of masculinity, a lack of physical boundaries between strippers and patrons, and the fact that a club’s revenue is often boosted if patrons think they can have physical access to strippers. She recounts stories, told to her by strippers during interviews, of being digitally raped on stage, of being expected to perform oral sex, and of club employees looking the other way when patrons touched strippers. Building on past scholarship, she also focuses on the intense emotional labor, such as flirting, that strippers are expected to perform. Private dances, she argues, are not prized for their extended dance, but because of the (false) intimacy it creates.

Price-Glynn’s work is an important reminder of the dangers of sex work. At times, however, I questioned whether she excessively focused on the negative aspects of stripping. A section devoted to the women’s rituals when they returned home (one bathed in bleach) and the effects of stripping on outside relationships (such as an inability to enjoy sex) was profoundly sad. It also implies that none of the strippers were able to disengage themselves from their work and that they were all negatively affected, even “damaged,” by stripping. When strippers said they enjoyed stripping or found it empowering, Price-Glynn hints that this is simply a mask or coping mechanism. This is, of course, plausible, but diverges from other scholarship on sex work and comes close to supporting arguments that stripping categorically harms women.

Strip Club offers important insight for those strippers and advocates of sex worker rights who want to improve the environment of the strip club and increase opportunities for women to be empowered within sex work. Price-Glynn’s choice to use organizational theory allows the reader to find concrete examples, such as wage reform, that could have very immediate and positive results. This method also distinguishes her book from other recent scholarship on sex work and stripping. I recommend the book, therefore, for those interested in learning more about the culture of the strip club or to sociology students interested in a unique application of organizational theory.

Written by: Shannon Hill, December 19th 2010

Never Make the Same Mistake Twice: Lessons On Love and Life Learned the Hard Way

admin — Wed, 23 Dec 2009 17:04:00 +0000

By Nene Leakes, Denene Millner

Simon & Schuster

Although I had never watched The Real Housewives of Atlanta, I was immediately drawn to Nene Leakes’ story even without knowing who she was. Once I opened this book, I did not put it down. Leakes' story is full of so much courage—growing up without her mother, being a single mother, surviving an abusive relationship and becoming a successful business woman on her own terms.

Never Make the Same Mistake Twice is written very conversationally—conveying Leakes' voice throughout the book. Leakes is unapologetic, taking pride in her decisions and the way she carries herself. While reading her memoir, I couldn't help but think: this woman rocks.

What I admired most about Leakes' autobiography is her frankness about how she survived the domestic abuse, which included a kidnapping incident. She bravely left in the middle of the night to protect herself and her young son. As a fellow survivor of abuse, I read Leakes' recount with tears in my eyes.

In part of the book, Leakes reveals her past work as an exotic dancer. While stripping is highly debated in the feminist community, Leakes divulges she did what she needed to do to support herself and her son. For Leakes, this job gave back her confidence after it had been damaged by the abuse. Even if you don't agree with her views, you have to admire her openness.

Since I knew I couldn't give a full review without watching at least an episode of The Real Housewives of Atlanta, I turned on Bravo. I'm now a full addict, watching the episodes over and over with the On Demand channel. The Nene in the show is exactly the Nene in the book. In addition, the latest episodes even show Leakes working on the book, and traveling home to Atlanta with her co-writer Denene Millner. And yes, Leakes does spill some juicy details about the show in her book. But even people who have never seen The Real Housewives of Atlanta can appreciate this memoir, especially those who have gone through the same issues.

Written by: Elizabeth Stannard Gromisch, December 23rd 2009

A Woman Alone at Night

admin — Fri, 13 Jul 2007 19:01:00 +0000

By Tamara Faith Berger

Soft Skull Press

A Woman Alone at Night is a story loosely based on St. Mary of Egypt, a prostitute who "reveled in her sexuality before repenting". Throughout the novel, Berger walks a dangerous line between portraying a female character who is empowered in her sexuality, and adding to the stereotyped idea that all sex workers choose their work willingly.

Early on, Mira meets an older man, John, who rapes her then forces her into amateur porn, although the description of the novel frames his actions as him "taking advantage of her willingness." This discrepancy alone illustrates the real risk this book takes in being put out into a society where women are usually seen as either helpless innocent victims or whores, and where sexual consent is rarely promoted as a necessity. Mira then meets Adi, a stripper, who introduces her to the world of sex work where the rest of the story runs its course.

I got to the end of the novel feeling as if there were few moments when Mira is not being degraded by her johns, the religious Gio or her cousin, Ezrah, who attempts to "rescue her from 'sin.'" The inclusion of religion in this novel was confusing, hovering at times towards implying that women who engage in sex work are held up somehow through the text of the bible, but more often looming towards a deep-seeded disgust of women who are in sex work. Although the end of the novel is supposed to be Mira repenting, I felt it was more like her being taken away again against her will.

I was excited at the possibility of a story that explored the multidimensional facets of female sexuality, but read the story as an illustration of the conflict of perspectives with the character of John encompassing one perspective: men think a woman walking alone at night is a whore. Mira's more devastating observation is another interpretation: "why does every girl have to get fucked?"

Written by: Lesley Kartali, July 13th 2007

The Chez Girls

admin — Mon, 02 Jul 2007 21:23:00 +0000

By Tyler Ondine Whitman

Parler Media

"Stripping isn't evil, it's just a thing some girls do to get by." Or is it? The overly glamorized life of strippers tells society about the money and the desire, but Tyler Ondine Whitman tells about another aspect that is often swept under the rug.

Whitman is trying to tell an untold story – with over 100 photographs and only about six-ten pages of actual writing, she captures the perfect mix of rawness and emotion needed to portray what life as a stripper is like. These photos show the true bodies of women, who are actually living the life that is only characterized on television or in photos. They aren't perfect bodies modified by plastic surgery, but, rather, they show aspects of all women of the world: large breasts, small breasts, curvy, thin. "When I came face to face with the dancers – I was shocked – none of them looked like airbrushed Barbie dolls. They looked so real."

Whitman breaks down the happenings behind the closed doors of strip clubs. She tells about the possibility of making an extra $20 here or there (all you have to do is give a client a handjob), and she talks about the prospects of Vice busting in. The most heartbreaking aspectis when we learn what Whitman faces when she becomes close with one girl: some of the strippers thought they had no where to turn, no other job prospects.

The photos are real. The grainy, black and white images are almost haunting. They depict the daily life and work of a stripper: counting her money, swinging around a pole, getting dressed, displaying her body for all to see. "I'd never actually seen a lap dance. She laid it out."

Written by: Megan Blair, July 2nd 2007