What Strippers Need Us to Know About Sex Work

In feminist circIes it’s common to debate how we should talk about sex work. Is it empowering? Is it misogynistic? Is it ethical? Is the act of talking about it at all romanticizing it? These debates play out in Twitter threads, discussion boards and at coffee shops, but concerningly, sex workers are rarely involved. What’s worse, while we debate the ethics of sex work from a distance, sex workers are losing their income, housing, healthcare and facing marginalization and violence from all directions. It’s important that we centre sex workers' perspectives instead of centering how we feel about their work. So I asked strippers what they want non-strippers to know! 

When was the last time you talked to a stripper? 

I reached out to Robin, N9ne and Kiwi, three strippers who are a part of Toronto’s only-sex worker-run sapphic strip club called Sapphics Paradise (ig: @asapphicsparadise). Sapphics Paradise runs monthly events created by and for sapphics to enjoy their sexuality in a space without cis men by cutting out the “middlemen” in the sex industry. Their strip club pop-up events give sex workers more agency over their work and better opportunities to connect with and educate their community. While these three dancers cannot speak for all sex workers or strippers, they can help us start reflecting on how we talk about sex work and how we can better support marginalized workers.

Robin

“Sometimes [stripping is] empowering, and sometimes I feel it’s humiliating. But I also felt that way when I worked at Wild Wings. That’s just what work feels like.” - Robin

Robin (ig: @thehotsidekick) started dancing in 2019 after bartending at a Toronto stripclub. She describes her style as whimsical but alternative, and if the manic pixie dream girl met the girl next door. Robin studied visual arts in college and brings her graphic design skills to the Sapphics Paradise team. Not to mention, she is a talented MC with a great sense of humor. She considers her stripper persona to be the best parts of her and none of the worst, like drag.

N9ne

“There might be things [about sex work] where you’ll be like “ew.” And I’m like okay, changing diapers is ew, but someone has to do them!” - N9ne

N9ne (ig: @n9neinthehouse) started stripping on and off at 18, before coming back to nightlife last year. Her style is erotic and intense, with a focus on stunts and seduction. N9ne also used to freestyle in hip-hop and is a ballroom legend in the House of Unbothered Cartier. She is no stranger to battling and freestyling and aspires to be sexy to every man, woman and child. For her, N9ne isn’t a costume or mask at all, it is entirely her. If anything, she feels more authentic at that club than in her 9-5. 

Kiwi

“The sex industry doesn’t really cater to queer women and non binary people, [but] there’s a demand for it. The queer femmes and thems are horny!” - Kiwi

Kiwi (ig: @kiwithestripper) is a stripper and pole dancing instructor who started stripping after the pandemic while already in the sex industry. She describes her style as a “cutsie patootsie girlfriend fantasy.” She’s very involved in the pole community and is an award winning pole competitor. Kiwi considers her stripper persona to be everything she loves about herself, which is a lot! She doesn’t have the same insecurities and anxieties that exist outside of the club. Kiwi is untouchable, unattainable, and desired.

These women want non-strippers, and especially sapphics, to be more comfortable engaging with strippers, both for our own enjoyment, and because our awareness and advocacy is necessary. Here are the main takeaways they want us to know. 

We should know about appropriation

We should know that sex workers’ aesthetics and contributions are appropriated without credit. In particular, the increasing popularity in pole dancing classes has led to a strategic distancing from its sex worker origins. Pole dancing in its current popular form has been pioneered by strippers, and in particular, Black strippers. While the use of bamboo or wooden poles can be traced to multiple ancient cultures, modern pole dancing as we know it has sensual origins. (To be clear, twerking upside down on the pole in Pleaser heels and landing in a split does not come from the ancient world, it comes from strippers.) Black strippers in cities like Atlanta, Houston, and New Orleans pioneered athletic, acrobatic and sensual styles in the 80s and 90s that set the blueprint for movements taught and performed in studios today. But they, the innovators of the movements, don’t get credit.

Much of the pole community has made an effort to distinguish themselves from strippers. Strippers face discrimination in pole studios and at pole competitions, where points can be deducted for sexual expression. As an award-winning competitor and pole instructor, Kiwi noticed that people who pole dance are often afraid that the association with sex work will diminish the validity of pole and how challenging it is. And instead of uplifting strippers and challenging that narrative, dancers will often distance themselves from sex workers to evade stigma, reinforcing that strippers are “less than.” Kiwi points out that pole dancers will often wear the “uniform” and use the movements of a stripper but then get defensive about being mistaken for one.

Robin notices this too, and points out that it’s okay to clarify you’re not a stripper, but there’s no need to put strippers down while doing so. It’s not offensive to be mistaken for a sex worker, especially given pole’s connection to the strip club. The value of a sex worker’s life is affected by how we dehumanize strippers or take advantage of their aesthetics and contributions without credit. When sex workers are pushed out of spaces to learn, dance and be in community, it pushes them more underground and more into isolation. 

“Everyone loves to look like a whore, but nobody wants to help us.” - Robin

We should know about whorephobia

Whorephobia broadly defines the stigma and marginalization of sex workers, often targeted at women. It encompasses actions like using “whore” as an insult, all the way to the systemic violence that leads to higher rates of homicide. Whorephobia is the logic behind SWERFs, or sex worker-exclusionary radical feminists, who advocate for abolishing sex work, even if it’s at the expense of workers. SWERF logic assumes that by catering to the male gaze, sex workers contribute to the objectification of women and themselves, and thus all their work feeds into a harmful power dynamic.

To Kiwi, sex work has been a way for her to subvert the typical power dynamic. The relationship between a stripper and a customer is a complex one that feeds into a fantasy, while still fitting within her boundaries. She participates in a level of objectification that can be enjoyable when there’s control and consent involved. Similarly, Robin sees sex work as a way to have some control over objectification. To her, if her body is objectified no matter what, using it to her benefit is a means of having more autonomy and control. And for N9ne, she doesn’t see her sexuality as something “that deep.” After deconstructing a lot of her religious upbringing, she became less afraid of sharing her sexuality, and now considers it entirely her own to use. Once her shame around pleasure melted away, she decided she wanted to “bend the whole world over, and spank it.”

“Even if it makes you feel uncomfortable or it makes you feel like we’re being exploited, for me, it makes me feel free. This makes me feel like I am being myself for the first time that week. So yes, I’m dancing for money, and yes I’m dancing for the eyes of men. But this is my sword to use” - N9ne

We should be aware of how we might be complicit in whorephobia and SWERF-logic by how we talk about and view sex workers. We should also be thoughtful  about how stigma against sex workers is a reflection of purity myths and misogyny. Sex workers who can find a sense of autonomy and cater to the male gaze are not to blame for gender-based violence and the dehumanization of women. A critical question to ask ourselves when confronted with whorephobia is: is sex work bad, or do bad things happen to sex workers? Because if the latter is true, demonizing their work is both unhelpful and dangerous.

We should call it work

Kiwi is concerned that sex work is too often glorified on social media. It’s depicted as fast, and easy money, when in reality, many sex workers are low-income, and have no benefits or security. The assumption that the work is easy ties into the misogynistic rhetoric that jobs done primarily by women are inherently less valuable or difficult. This rhetoric stirs anger when successful sex workers are public about their high income, but this is still not the reality for most. Strippers are not entitled to a minimum wage, unemployment benefits, employment insurance, overtime pay or any other benefits and rights guaranteed to employees. Videos where strippers count thousands of dollar bills go viral easily, but what rarely gets seen are the slow nights that add up to less than hourly minimum wage for a full night of work. Similarly, adult content creators that make viral content showing their wealthy lifestyle are typically in the top 1% of earners, meanwhile the average creator won’t make a livable income. The entire spectrum of experiences can be the reality, but between whorephobia and glorification, there is little room for nuance. 

“I think it’s hard because sex work is either glorified or demonized. It’s very rarely seen as just a job or something that has ups and downs. I struggle a lot when talking about it as well because I’m afraid that if I talk too highly of it, I’m glorifying it or if I’m talking too negatively about it, I’m demonizing it.” - Kiwi

Not only is sex work real work, it can also be just work. It can be empowering and humiliating, have good days and bad days, nice clients and rude clients, and caring bosses and shitty bosses, just like any other job. It does sex workers a disservice to place their work on a glamorous pedestal that ignores the marginalization and exploitation they face. But on the flip side, the opposite is true. Not all sex workers need saving, or are being coerced. N9ne reminds us that she likes her job, and she actively chooses to participate in the industry. Strippers are allowed to enjoy their work and they are also allowed to hate it, without it meaning something significant about the value of their work or body. 

We should take action

Strippers are people who clock in and clock out just like the rest of us. They have friends, family and responsibilities. You should support them the same way you support other local and marginalized business owners. And there are ways we can support them. Here’s five suggestions for allyship I’ve summed up from my interviews with N9ne, Kiwi and Robin:

1. Go to a stripclub and pay strippers: If you are curious about strippers, go to a strip club and pay them. Even if the image in your head of a stripclub is mostly male-centred, remember that many strippers are themselves queer or even non-binary. As N9ne reminds us, strippers don’t bite and usually love women/sapphic clients, so long as they understand the etiquette of tipping. If you have an interest in pole dancing, sensual movement or floorwork, watching strippers is an opportunity to learn more about these styles of dance and elevate your own performance. Paying strippers for their work and time is the most immediate way to support them. If you’re interested in talking to, watching, or learning from strippers (and you have the means), go to a club and pay them.

2. Support stripper-owned businesses: If a typical strip club isn’t your scene, find ways to support stripper and sex-worker owned businesses. If you enjoy reading, research books about sex work written by sex-workers that will benefit most from your support. If you are interested in pole dancing, try learning from a current or former stripper who offers classes and private lessons. There are also current/former strippers with outfit businesses that supply more authentically designed clothing for clubwear, ravewear and lingerie. For example bubblegumthebrand.com, angelcandyshop.com, and beabimbo.com. If your city has strip pop-up events that centre BIPOC and LGBTQ+ audiences, try to support them. For example, Sapphics Paradise in Toronto, Masc-Arade in New York City, Black Skrippa Brigade in Chicago, Sweet Like Honey in Montreal, Harpies in the UK, and more. 

3. Donate to charities that support sex-workers: Around the world there are sex-worker led organizations that provide and advocate for legal and financial services, housing, health care, and more. These organizations are essential to providing accessible services that understand sex worker’s needs, and also advocate for decriminalization to make their work safer. For example, the Global Network of Sex Work Projects, SWARM, the Red Umbrella Fund, Decrim Now UK, and Maggie’s Toronto. You can donate to these and similar organizations, as well as giving them your time and energy by reading through their websites, and following them on social media.

4. Support sex workers online: If financial spending is outside of your means, you can support sex workers and sex worker-owned businesses by following them on social media and engaging with their content. Supporting this content online can go a long way amidst intense censorship. Keep in mind that sex workers experience more scrutiny by social media companies, yet these platforms may be necessary to their livelihood. Online engagement can be a helpful tool in supporting their work, and gives you the chance to be more open-minded. Follow sex worker-led organizations and activists on social media to stay informed and attentive so that your feed reflects your allyship. To get started, start by following sex-worker led events and organizations in your area, including any of the ones from the previous suggestions. 

5. Speak with more awareness: Be mindful of placing sex workers in a hierarchy or putting some kinds of sex work down in favour of others. If someone tells you that you look like or dance like a stripper, consider that this is not inherently a bad thing. If it makes you feel upset or dirty to be compared to sex workers, be mindful of why you feel this way, and avoid putting them down to distance yourself. Sex workers are not to blame for the misogyny and whorephobia you may encounter, so be careful where you direct your anger and judgement. Don’t make assumptions about the kind of person someone is or was because of their involvement in their industry. If you have or hear a judgment about sex work, question whether these judgments could apply to capitalism as a whole instead of projecting individual shame on the workers. For example, if you recognize that the sex industry can be misogynistic, exploitative and involve “using” a person’s body, remind yourself that the same can be true of working in an office, a factory or in the military. Remind yourself that the issues in the sex industry are made worse because of the stigma and whorephobia that pushes the work underground. And finally, be prepared to speak up and remind others of the same. 

We must remember that sex work is not all bad or all good, and it’s not totally empowering or 100% unethical - it’s simply a job. Currently, it is a job that comes with intense social stigma and criminalization, which directly makes the work less safe. It is important as people who are not sex workers to lend our support, rather than debate sex work from a distance. Sex workers need our allyship, and this begins with a conscious and ongoing decision to take action and do better.

Thank you to Robin (ig: @thehotsidekick), N9ne (ig: @n9neinthehouse), and Kiwi (ig: @kiwithestripper) for taking the time to educate me and the Bonjibon audience!