Fools Paradise
Has anyone else been keeping up with The London Columnist bitch fight that’s going on between City Girl and Nico the ‘Erotic Dancer’?
Both sound pretty deluded, but its Nico’s column that wound me up the most: I think the lady doth protest too much! And, we get it Nico; you’ve got bit tits, no need to keep mentioning them.
Last time I looked ‘damn good dancers’ were either out dancing with their mates in clubs or on the west end stage in a leotard; not prancing about in a G string and heels in some dodgy nightclub.
‘Adrenaline and an adoring crowd’ might be great, for the first ten minutes, but doesn’t it just become monotonous and depressing after that? And who exactly makes up this adoring crowd? Random letchy men, boozed up stag dos and rugby/football clubs? I hate to break it to you, Nico, but I can guarantee they’re not all looking on adoringly; a lot are laughing and making derogatory comments. You’re hardly Madonna now are you?
And how can someone who leaves so little to the imagination even attempt to be mysterious? Speaking of which, to see the mysterious ‘Nico’ for yourself just visit the London Paper website were you can see several of the photos she’s sent in.
I’m so bored of the ‘stripping is empowering’ line. I’ve worked in strip bars: They only exist to pander to male sexual insecurities and they are rancid, smelly places which smell worse than ever since the smoking ban. The nature of the job tends to turn even the sweetest girl ultra competitive and bitchy, and it’s hardly a career, with new improved models elbowing their way onto the stage all the time.
This bizarre idea that working in the sex industry is ‘cool’ stems from early to mid 90s films such at Pretty Woman and Striptease. Hello! These were films? And not even based on true stories.
Poor Nico. Perhaps her education wasn’t as ‘blinding’ as she thinks it was…
City Girl said:
‘Predictably enough, we ended up in a strip club. Not my choice but, as any City girl will tell you, spending the good part of a night out with City boys in a room full of women wearing nothing but G-strings is an occupational hazard.
The strippers rarely bother me, naturally, because I’m not good for a tip. I always find it disturbing, however, that most of the girls are my age and look exactly like me – long hair, slim, big eyes. It fills me with sadness to think that these girls are forced by their circumstances to sell their bodies.
The irony is that both sides are in the game of flattering overweight middle-aged men and compromising their morals in the process.
While my rain-making antics may stop short of twirling naked around a pole, I still couldn’t help but wonder, what is worse – selling your body for a living, or selling your soul?
Screwing people for money is no job for a nice girl. But is my supposedly respectable City job really less dodgy than being a lap dancer?’
Nico replied:
‘I’m tall, lean, full figured and have huge… eyes… I don’t flatter middle-aged men, I exploit them…I do it because I’m damn good at dancing, at teasing…Maybe you should try it, you spoilt brat.
What’s so bad about flossing your G-string (if you truly are tall and slim with huge… eyes) on a pole on stage. See how the adrenaline kicks in when you have an audience and you’re giving the oldest performance in the world to an adoring crowd. It’s much more exciting then an Excel spreadsheet, I promise you.
The only thing you and I have in common is we hide our names. That’s it. And I conceal my name not out of shame, but to add to the mystery. It’s not a garment to be peeled away, it’s a permanent secret – its very seductiveness lying in the fact that along with my body, it can never be touched, owned or divulged.
Last time I checked I was still a one-woman-one-man type of girl with a blinding education. But boy, can I dance. Boy, can I tantalise. And boy, do I have money.
So, do you fancy a dance, or are you just gonna pontificate because your life consists of “flattering middle-aged men?”
|
- Posted 01:41 PM on Thu Mar 19 2009
- By Barbie
- 3118 views, 2 comments
|