Should You Try Stripping?

By Lily Blau, Sirens Magazine. Posted April 30, 2009.

Stripping is a tricky topic for me, a feminist enamored of Gloria Steinem, Hillary Clinton, and the history of "womyn's lands." Taking your clothes off can be the ultimate symbol of caution-to-the-wind liberation. But if you're doing it because that's the accepted mark of being sexy and successful, then that's a different game. And for more and more women, that's the reason. With raunch-culture ever on the rise, sex appeal isn't just one of the many cards a girl can play; it's the ultimate trump, no matter how smart or talented she is.

In fact, our culture has written a new fairytale. And Randi Newton, Jake's new girlfriend, is currently living it. You see, she isn't just a stripper. Part of her claim to fame, the reason she was on the cover of The Post, and the reason her book deal will likely be six figures, is that she used to work on Wall Street. That's the story we're looking to buy these days. "Pretty Woman" has been replaced with the real-life story of Diablo Cody (who was portrayed as the ultimate teen girl's role model in a recent episode of "90210″). It's not the hooker with a heart of gold; it's the stripper with an MBA or a literary agent.

And it's pervasive. I have a picture of Diablo Cody on my wall -- an article actually. It's from the New York Times and profiles Cody and her three best writer pals, all of whom command seven figures per feature-film screenplay, or close to it. The article talks about how hard they work and the fun they have. And it makes sure to underline how "gorgeous" the four women are, exuding "four distinct styles of glamour." It's not that I'm objecting to admiring beauty (though not every culture requires this of its celebrities). It just seems to me that the message being delivered to young women isn't that the hot women can be smart, it's that the smart women need to be hot. Stripping is not just a potentially lucrative side job; it's a step toward a storybook ending. And that's a tricky message to be faced with at a time when so many markets are laying off smart girls (and guys).

But, I don't want to judge a strip club by its front door. So the next night Randi is working, Jake arranges for me to talk with her in person. Randi works at Rick's Cabaret, and it's not hard to figure out that Rick's is one of the finer of its breed. I don't normally go to bars alone, but here I feel at ease. In fact, I'm shocked by how pleasant the atmosphere is. The plush chairs gathered around small, candlelit tables are warmly inviting, the soft light glows placidly, the music is not too loud. There's even a flatscreen with a football game running by the bar. It's the opposite of the scary, jarring club scene I was expecting. It feels even more comfortable than the bars my friends take me to. Except there's the issue of the naked ladies.

But the girls do a good job of making it seem perfectly regular to stand around with their tops hanging off or stripped down to their G-strings. It's something about the way they carry themselves -- totally at ease, their movements slow and romantic, not animalistic like porn.

Until Randi, my friend Elena was the only stripper I'd known personally. She's a talented singer, a shy blond girl who can read anywhere from 16 to 28 depending on what she's wearing. I've never seen Elena dance -- exotically, I mean. She gave it up this past December to focus on putting out a CD. But she maintains it was one of the best things she could've done to gain stage confidence as a performer.

Elena went to a women's college; she has a master's degree in experiential health and healing. She's well schooled in all the implications of the business, and although she turned to it because she was strapped for cash, there was an underlying attraction. "I was fascinated by it," she says. "But I was really torn and not sure if it was the right thing to do. I asked myself questions like, ‘Is this right?' ‘Is this a negative thing for women?' ‘Or is this empowering?'"

Elena's conundrum had made intellectual sense to me then. But inside the lush, cozy strip club, I felt it for myself. Detangling the messy knot inside my chest, I found judgment tied around admiration and laced up with curiosity. I caught myself wondering which style of dress I would wear, how often the girls wax, and how I would do dancing by myself up on that stage. By the time Randi appeared beside me from the upstairs lounge, I was so lost in thought I almost forgot that I was staring at Jake's new girlfriend.

But I don't hate her. Randi is charming, fun and quick-witted -- the sort of girl I'd want to hang out with at a party. And I see what Jake sees in her. She's sexy, but not just because she's pretty. She isn't bleached or artificially sculpted. She's the well-endowed girl-next-door, with the pleasing hint of a Nebraska lilt. Outward appearances aside, we have a lot in common. We're both hard working and ambitious, both writers and actresses. We share a love of documentaries and the original "Beverly Hills, 90210." And of course we both fell for Jake.

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