The Effects of Stripping on Self-Esteem

by Blair E. Lamb B.A. in Criminal Justice, May 2007, University of Delaware

A Thesis submitted to The Faculty of The Columbian College of Arts and Sciences of The George Washington University in partial fulfillment of the requirements for the degree of Master of Arts

May 15, 2011

Thesis directed by: Ronald Weitzer Professor of Sociology

Dedication:

To Mom and Dad, without you, none of this would have been possible. The sacrifices

you make to ensure the reality of my dreams are endless. Thank you.

iii

Acknowledgements:

A great thanks to Dr. Ron Weitzer for inspiring me to pursue a topic about which I am passionate, and for sharing with me an incredible amount of knowledge. Thank

you to Dr. Charis Kubrin for helping to make this paper the best it could be.

Abstract of Thesis:

The Effects of Stripping on Self-Esteem

The effects of stripping on self-esteem have long been documented from one of two

competing feminist perspectives. This paper argues that while these perspectives create a solid theoretical foundation, they each ignore that stripping can have both

beneficial and detrimental elements that influence dancers’ self-esteem. More

importantly, each woman’s experience is unique, and so sweeping generalizations

tend to miss the point of individuality and autonomy. This article finds that stripping can be both empowering and disempowering at different times, depending

on the eight factors that are outlined in this paper.

Table of Contents:

Dedication iii

Acknowledgements iv

Abstract v

Introduction 2

Literature Review 6

Research Methods 20

Findings 23

Conclusion 67

References 72

“It seemed so weird to me that a girl who regularly boinked complete strangers had only seen cocaine in the movies. The world of stripping is populated with such contradictions, suburban girls with bruised veins, ghetto girls on Atkins, innocents who strip to get dirty and dirty girls who strip to clean up. The whole scene is bananas” (Cody, p. 161).

“When asked to explain, we attempt life as straight algebra: A root cause (sexual trauma, violent relationship, crappy parents), and an aggravating factor (low self- esteem, substance abuse, lack of education) equals stripper, but this never works, because there are always women with the same variables who don’t end up in the clubs. An authentic reply isn’t obedient, it won’t shrink down into something you can fit into a pocket, an index of facts, or a list of diagnoses. The truth is much more complicated than that. The truth is so much more of a mess” (Burana, p. 282).

Introduction

Exotic dance and burlesque are two names by which stripping is alternately referred. To outsiders, the notion of taking off one’s clothes in front of strangers for money is abominable, for some, the idea is liberating, and for others, stripping provides a host of mixed emotions about the morality of it all. For as long as stripping has existed as a professional career, there have been a variety of arguments both for and against it. While exotic dance remains legal throughout the

United States, it is still largely considered a deviant occupation by industry outsiders as well as many of the men and women who are employed in this field (Thompson,

Harred, and Burks, 2003).

Theoretical Perspectives

There are two commonly held perspectives in regard to stripping in the field

of gender studies and sociology. These two positions are the sexual

radical/libertarian view and the radical feminist view. While both of these

perspectives are derived from feminist-based research, they oppose one another.

The sexual radical/libertarian view, also known as the “empowerment

paradigm” (Weitzer, 2009), posits that stripping has the ability to empower women

and create a sense of agency for the individual. While it does not state that sex work is always beneficial to those involved, it does endorse the idea that stripping (like other forms of sex work) has the potential to be a positive experience. This theory also focuses on the ability of women to maintain financially beneficial employment

2 in sex work, which is not so different from other forms of labor in which women

typically engage.

On the other hand, there is the radical feminist view, or the “oppression

paradigm” (Weitzer, 2009), which stands in stark contrast to the empowerment

paradigm. This theoretical perspective holds that the detrimental effects of

stripping are inherent to the job and engrained in the behaviors and mental states

that are necessary to work in such a profession. The oppression paradigm revolves

around a set of notions that exotic dance, by its nature, detrimentally affects

dancers. It goes even further, saying that the entire industry capitalizes on weak and powerless individuals, so much so, that sex work essentially demoralizes and

victimizes women. Proponents of this theory believe that women who enter the sex

industry are drawn to this type of work because they are inevitably marred by past

trauma and abuse (Weitzer, 2009).

Clearly, these two theoretical perspectives do not tell the whole story: “Both

the oppression and empowerment paradigms are one-dimensional” (Weitzer, 2009:

215). Even combined, the two views only offer variations of the extreme. The

problem here is that my research demonstrates that while stripping may have both

detrimental and beneficial affects on dancers, the women rarely encounter only one of these experiences. In fact, as I demonstrate, women’s self-esteem is influenced in

a variety of ways, some of which are positive and some of which are negative.

These are not the only two perspectives in existence though, and further

research demonstrates that there is a middle ground that is far more compatible

with my findings. Weitzer calls this theory the “polymorphous paradigm,” and it

3 blends the empowerment paradigm with the oppression paradigm. Indeed, it

removes the simplistic claims of the other two perspectives and recognizes that

stripping varies considerably—both within the population of dancers and from club

to club (Bradley-Engen 2009). The argument here is that there are too many variables (at both the individual-and structural-levels) to say that the effects of sex work are either uniformly beneficial or detrimental. Both the oppression and empowerment paradigms ignore the potential for experiences to be very mixed as a result of the complexities of human behavior.

My findings show that neither the empowerment paradigm nor the oppression paradigm provide a complete understanding of the positive and negative consequences that stripping has on the individual. Instead, the data analyzed here tends to support the third theoretical perspective, the polymorphous paradigm. As explained above, this idea highlights the variation in the structure and experiences of commercial sex work.

My Research

Existing academic research provides a wealth of information about the topic, however it also leaves some issues unexamined. This thesis does not scrutinize every way that stripping can influence the self-esteem of women, but instead, it aims to pick up where other studies have left off. I analyzed the memoirs of eleven female dancers and examined their various experiential perspectives. I found that their experiences are quite similar to one another despite the diversity of their journeys.

4 Ultimately, all of the women felt that their self-esteem had been influenced by their work, and these effects were carried into their lives outside of the clubs.

I began my research believing that the clearest and most concise way to analyze strippers’ experiences was to categorize them as either positive or negative.

As I proceeded with my research, I found that this distinction was not so clear.

Feelings of both rejection and validation influenced dancers’ self-esteem and played out in important ways, but this was far too simplistic. While I commonly identified the recurrence of certain themes, (such as the potential to make large sums of money in relatively short periods of time and the ability to be financially independent and personally autonomous), no two women experienced stripping in exactly the same ways. While I had initially outlined the criteria for what I expected to be eleven categories that constituted self-esteem and the ways in which women’s work experiences affected their lives, I amended thematic elements as I coded the memoir data. I eventually created eight categories through which stripping influenced women’s self-esteem and the ways in which these experiences carried into their personal lives. This is what I seek to demonstrate in the study at hand.

To understand the benefits and detriments of stripping on self-esteem and the ways that these experiences influenced the dancers’ lives, it is important to look at the whole picture. I present my argument through the use of eleven memoirs written by women who worked as exotic dancers. I found that the effects of stripping are numerous, and that while some women may decide that the overall experience of their work was positive or a negative, the majority had a difficult time

5 doing this. In fact, many women explained that there were simply too many relevant factors to say that her experience was uniform.

What I show here is that there are myriad factors that drive a woman’s understanding of her work as an exotic dancer based on the testimonies contained in the memoirs in my sample. I created eight categories into which these authors’ experiences can be grouped. The categories are:

-motivation for entry into the industry -power and control -effects on relationships -motivation for remaining in the business -creating a persona -negative effects of stripping -reasons for exiting the industry -factors directly affecting self-esteem

While no two experiences are identical, the recurring themes point to important similarities in the ways stripping affects the lives of women.

Additionally, since stripping remains a stigmatized career, many of the authors have encountered experiences that are unique to exotic dancers. While there may be a variety of conditions that lend themselves to the types of experiences that strippers incur, stigmatization of this type of job certainly plays a role. Through this work, I endeavored to discover and understand answers to the following question: What is the relationship between stripping and self-esteem, and how does this relationship affect dancers’ lives?

Literature Review

A fair amount of literature about the effects of stripping on women takes the stance that experiences are rather static in nature; however, the body of work that I

6 reviewed for this project takes a dual approach. This research provides information within which to couch my study, as it moved away from the idea that stripping adhered to one of two feminist principles. While many of the studies noted both the importance of the sexual radical/libertarian view as well as the radical feminist view, the trend was to acknowledge and to move away from these strict idealistic notions. Instead, what is being found is that exotic dance has both positive and negative influences in women’s lives depending on their experiences, which are derived from the eight factors upon which I based my project. Furthermore, each woman’s experience is different from the next; however, in a stigmatized field such as stripping, there are certain factors that dancers are likely to encounter as innate facets of their work.

Some of these elements negatively contribute to the women’s experiences while others positively contribute, and some can go either way. For example, it was not unusual for women to say that there were aspects of stripping that created tension in their personal lives. Many women also had difficulty with familial and romantic relationships because they were impacted by one’s employment. In this way, stripping tended to become an added stressor in the women’s lives; however, in other ways, women benefitted from dancing in that they gained power and control through their career path.

Most articles focused on the effects of stripping on women; however, a few examined the ways that men are instrumental in affecting both the dancers’ experiences and more general changes in the industry. Research of the various roles that male customers (and sometimes dancers) play in the world of exotic dance is

7 important. However, studies regarding men’s experiences within strip clubs are produced much less frequently than those regarding female dancers’ experiences.

In this regard, I encountered three pieces that are relevant to my study. One of the articles deals with men’s expectations and the gendered struggle for power in strip clubs. The second addresses the importance of customers’ understanding and use of space in the context of exotic dance, and a third investigates the “narrative resistance strategies” of dancers, both male and female, in dealing with issues surrounding identity construction and conflict (Ronai and Cross, 1998: 99). While none of these articles aimed to specifically address the relationship between dancing and its effects on female dancers’ self-esteem, the pieces do speak to this issue.

In her piece, “Working in the Fantasy Factory,” Elizabeth Wood studies the ways that strip clubs provide an atmosphere in which men seek to create and protect their identity in much the same ways that female dancers do. However, instead of creating a fictitious identity as a means of self-preservation, the male customers often play up what they feel to be their desirable qualities so that they attract the attention of the dancers, and thus appear powerful and dominant to other patrons. This, in turn, demonstrates their masculinity and affirms their self- worth and desirability (Wood, 2000). This finding presents the importance of not only the dancers’ desire to cater to and deliver the fantasy, but also the male customers’ interest in doing the same. This article demonstrates the ways in which

“gendered power” (Wood, 2000: 6) has largely been ignored in past research, and it seeks to bring this new information to light by addressing the idea that both men

8 and women are transformed into the characters that they perceive others want

them to be once inside the club. This is important because it suggests that women

are not the only ones that engage in persona creation. Wood (2000) also suggests

that the concept of operating under a façade, for both the men and women,

demonstrates the constantly evolving negotiation for power and control in dancer-

customer relationships and interactions.

Additionally, Wood explains how displays of “masculine power” (Wood,

2000: 11) can influence both positive and negative changes in dancers’ self-esteem.

In this way, the more the women feel that customers desire a certain type of woman,

the more the dancers attempt to fulfill this fantasy in hopes of capitalizing

financially (Wood, 2000). Oftentimes, it appears to the dancers that in order to be desired and successful, they must hide who they truly are and become someone else.

Wood’s work differs slightly from similar research in that persona creation of the

dancers is not for the purposes of protection or defense, but it is simply a necessary

aspect of the job.

A second article that turns the focus away from the women stripping and

instead investigates the importance of male behavior in strip clubs is entitled,

“Gender and Space in Strip Clubs” (Frank and Carnes, 2010). This piece suggests

that men are drawn to strip clubs for a variety of reasons, only some of which

emphasize the sexual aspects of exotic dance. The authors found that many patrons

are simply visiting these clubs as a way to relax, socialize with friends and dancers,

or to solicit some peace and calm after enduring a stressful week (Frank and Carnes,

2010). Additionally, Frank and Carnes posit that norms governing practices and

9 behavior for both the dancers and the customers vary from club to club, depending

on the nature of each particular business’ aims.

Furthermore, the authors suggest that while men have a variety of

motivations for frequenting strip clubs, many cite the desire to escape from the

pressures of typical male-female interaction. One customer, Gary, even said, “In

strip clubs, ‘the pressure’s off. I have to be accepted’” (Frank and Carnes, 2010:

122). This is important because it demonstrates the ways that men are affected by their experiences in the clubs, and it explains some of the expectations that male customers have of their experiences with the dancers. Overall, the authors find that

strip clubs, perhaps equally for both men and women, facilitate the notions of

identity and fantasy creation. In many ways then, it is not just the dancers that are

seeking affirmation through their performances, but it is the customers as well.

Ronai and Cross address the importance of men in influencing the trajectory

of exotic dance in their article, “Dancing with identity: narrative resistance

strategies of male and female stripteasers.” Here, instead of taking the perspective

that men are involved in stripping solely as consumers, the authors take the stance

that men and women are united as dancers employing similar techniques to

maintain positive identity traits in the face of stigma and negative social

connotations (Ronai and Cross, 1998). This article addresses the importance of

identity preservation through a practice that the authors deem, “narrative

resistance strategies” (Ronai and Cross, 1998: 99). Here, Ronai and Cross find that

both male and female dancers experience some ill effects of stripping in that it

produces for them a subjective loss of, or negatively impacted identity.

10 For the dancers, it is important to verbalize the ways in which they differ from other types of sex workers and strippers that engage in activities that they hold to be inappropriate. This, Ronai and Cross assert, is essential for the maintenance of positive identity traits in the face of public scrutiny. Furthermore, many dancers acknowledge the stigmatization surrounding their work, and they engage in these resistance strategies in order to differentiate their personal lives from their stripper identities (Ronai and Cross, 1998). This distinction is key for positive identity association. Defining themselves outside of their work is an essential avenue through which dancers can assert power in the face of working in a stigmatized industry. This narrative resistance allows male and female dancers to accept the deviant nature of their professions, while also construing “normal” and acceptable personal identity traits. While men and women differ in their approaches, both groups are similar in that they utilize techniques to protect themselves and ensure self-respect.

Returning the emphasis to female dancers, where much of the literature is centered, Barton addresses the “sex war paradigm” (Barton 2002: 584), and takes the stance that neither of the existing feminist perspectives, as mentioned in the theoretical perspectives section, are complete on their own. Barton incorporates elements of both the empowerment paradigm and the oppression paradigm into her work, and she finds that a combination of these views creates a more accurate portrayal of women’s experiences in stripping. In general, Barton’s study focuses on the ways in which dancers’ feelings of “empowerment gradually decline over time”

(Barton, 2002: 585) and that both negative and positive feelings arising from

11 stripping are susceptible to rapid change. That is, one woman’s great night could quickly deteriorate into a terrible shift due to the volatile nature of the club atmosphere, an environment where monetary gain thrives on a deviant code of behavior. The author also finds that the women’s experiences have multiple layers, and this leads to variations in the dancers’ journeys.

Barton suggests that women’s experiences with stripping as beneficial or detrimental are largely dependent upon the type of dancer that she characterizes them as. Barton says that there are three different types of dancers. One type consists of young women, just out of school, who are in need of fast cash. These women dance simply for the financial benefits that stripping provides. The second type of dancer is the “career dancer”, who are typified as older women that have few other employment options due to the financial constraints of childcare and low educational attainment. The third category is the “free spirits” who dance for the flexibility in scheduling and the lucrative payoff that stripping provides. Barton finds that the ways stripping influences women’s lives is, in large part, due to the category of dancer that she most accurately reflects. However, regardless of this category, the women’s experiences are likely to begin as mostly positive and then take on negative aspects as they become accustomed to the downsides of their new endeavor.

Bradley-Engen and Ullmer’s study is similar to Barton’s in that they argue it is the type of club in which a woman works, as well as the “processual order of exotic dance” (Bradley-Engen and Ullmer, 2009: 29), that influences the way she perceives her work. Bradley-Engen and Ullmer suggest that women are likely to

12 have a combination of experiences, both good and bad, throughout their tenure in exotic dance. In fact, the authors found that “many workers appeared ambivalent about their jobs, finding both satisfaction and dismay in various aspects of their work” (Bradley-Engen and Ullmer, 2009: 56). Furthermore, Bradley-Engen and

Ullmer highlight the affects of dancing on self-esteem and argue that both the positive and negative experiences that the dancers’ accumulate are equally influential in their lives. This study also suggests that women enter the industry for money, the party atmosphere that it provides, or the power that one can elicit from such a profession. While there are both highs and lows as a result of stripping,

Bradley-Engen and Ullmer claim that this is a reflection of the type of club in which dancers are employed and their motives to begin dancing.

Bradley further investigates whether the type of club in which a woman works influences her experiences stripping in her 2009 book entitled, Naked Lives: inside the worlds of exotic dance. In this piece, Bradley-Engen finds that there are three club types into which individual venues can be grouped. Each of the three, the hustle club, the show club, and the social club are characterized by different atmospheres, social norms, and employers’ expectations of the dancers. These factors, in addition to other typical features of the clubs, such as socio-economic status of clientele, location, and typical income all affect a dancer’s experience

(Bradley-Engen, 2009). The author finds that while individual clubs engender unique personalities, they are largely similar to other clubs that fall within the same category (as determined by Bradley-Engen’s research) due to like characteristics, general protocol, and expected behavior of both patrons and dancers.

13 Bradley-Engen determined that the expectations and pressures that are applied by each type of club is one variable that plays a large role in determining whether women experience their work as positive or negative. For example, the author finds that dancers working in “hustle clubs” are more apt to encounter unwanted physical and sexual demands of customers that are deemed acceptable by the club. In this way, women working in hustle clubs are likely to feel uncomfortable with their experiences and feel as if they are selling their bodies

(Bradley-Engen, 2009). While the individual characteristics of each dancer influences the type of club in which she feels most comfortable working, there are general sentiments that demonstrate that the hustle club atmosphere is perhaps most detrimental to female dancers, while the social club atmosphere is most beneficial. However, all three club types include positive and negative aspects.

These concepts include body image ideals, friendliness and willingness of dancers to help one another acclimate, typical shift earnings, etc.

Another essential element in my study was the affect of stripping on dancers’ personal relationships. In her 2006 study, Bradley found that one’s involvement in exotic dance highly influenced her ability to begin and to continue healthy romantic relationships. Bradley argued that working in such a stigmatized and sexualized environment often caused difficulties for dancers. These difficulties stemmed from a variety of factors, such as jealousy, conflicting feelings regarding disclosure of employment, and the ability “to balance the expectations of their partners with the demands of their profession” (Bradley 2006: 379). Furthermore, Bradley claimed that stripping placed demands on the individual that were inherently in violation of

14 the normal expectations of intimate pairings. While some women did derive

strength from the support and commitment of their partners, it was more often

noted that stripping caused additional stress in the relationship due to the nature of this occupation (Bradley, 2006).

The idea that stripping is a stigmatized profession is not a new one, but the

concept that this deviance is highly influential in the lives of the dancers is.

Thompson and Harred investigated this phenomenon in 1992, and then followed up

their study eleven years later (2003). Interestingly enough, there were great

similarities in their findings over the course of the decade: they emphasize that

women continue to create separate worlds, one in which they live and another in

which they dance. Furthermore, dancers create alternative personas or characters

into which they transform at work. This method allows them to live in two distinct

worlds: in the first, they are a stripper, a temptress, a fantasy-fulfiller, and in the

second, they are able to be themselves, be it wife, mother, daughter, friend, etc.

The authors found that dancers continue to employ “techniques of

neutralization to rationalize their behavior” (Thompson, Harred, and Burks, 2003:

551). This means that the women feel the effects of the stigmatization that

surrounds their jobs and engage in techniques to make these negative perceptions

feel more manageable both inside and outside of the workplace. Thompson, Harred,

and Burks further posit that the women experienced difficulty in maintaining high

levels of self-esteem in the face of stigmatization and that the effects of stigma are

quite powerful. There is a great amount of strain resulting from working in a

stigmatized field, and this creates what the authors refer to as “ cognitive and

15 emotional dissonance” (Thompson, Harred, and Burks, 2003: 565). Essentially, this

means that the women create two entirely different worlds in which they conduct

their lives, and in this way, they protect themselves from the emotional consequences of stripping (Thompson, Harred, and Burks, 2003).

Although the primary aim of Thompson, Harred, and Burks’ study was to

investigate the ways that women deal with the effects of the stigmatization of

stripping, theirs was not the only effort to examine the emotional influences of this

career. Tina Deshotels and Craig Forsyth published a study that examined the

“emotional tab of exotic dancing” (Dehotels and Forsyth, 2005: 223). The authors

found that elements of the sexual radical/libertarian view as well as the radical

feminist view were supported, and that the true nature of exotic dance incorporates

aspects of both. That is, stripping contributes both negative and positive experiences to dancers’ lives. Here, Deshotels and Forsyth (2005) emphasize that only the dancer can truly understand and explain the ways that stripping impacts her. In the past, there have been many ideas about the effects of stripping in women’s lives, however, not all of them came directly from the dancers. Instead, many of these beliefs came from academic researchers, far removed from the club scene, who were trying to create theories that would apply universally to strippers’ experiences. This ignored the fact that each woman had the ability to experience her work in a unique way. The authors claim that no one can dictate how stripping makes a woman feel; good or bad is in the eye of the beholder (Deshotels and

Forsyth, 2005).

16 Deshotels and Forsyth also found that “emotional labor” (2005: 234) was an

inherent aspect of stripping. Emotional labor included role playing, catering to the needs and desires of the customers, and manipulating interactions for their financial and emotional benefit. There are both positive and negative consequences to this type of labor. The two that were highlighted were women’s sense of power in their jobs (positive) and confusion surrounding their ability to create “an authentic sexual self” (Deshotels and Forsyth, 2005: 234) (negative), meaning that women struggled to separate their working lives from their personal lives where intimate relationships were involved. One dancer explains,

“I get confused. Am I acting sexy or do I feel sexy? I don’t know. I use the

same moves with my boyfriend that I use on stage. He gets upset. I get

upset…I think things I do in the club for money are the same things I could do

on a date, smile, act interested, be nice, find out what he wants and be it. It

happens so much I don’t know who I am anymore” (Deshotels and Forsyth,

2005: 234).

One final issue that was examined and that is particularly pertinent to my study is Barton’s work on the importance of boundary setting amongst strippers. In this study, Barton finds that dancers employ three different “psychospatial boundary setting techniques” (Barton, 2007: 571) in order to safely deal with problems they encounter at work. The author refers to this behavior as “managing the toll of stripping” (Barton, 2007: 571). Here, Barton demonstrates that women must protect themselves from the detrimental aspects of their work. To do this,

17 they incorporate techniques such as creating a persona and setting personal

boundaries into their professional repertoires (Barton, 2007).

Utilizing these behaviors allows the dancers to maintain a safe distance from

the types of encounters and experiences that could be hazardous to their mental,

physical, or emotional states. Barton, too, finds that the “toll” of stripping becomes

greater the longer that women remain in the industry (2007). This work

demonstrates that women tend to expand their boundaries when the money is right,

but that ultimately boundary setting creates a sense of power and autonomy that

empowers them. However, this empowerment may not last long, depending on the

experiences that each dancer has and the type of technique she employs to deal with

the negative repercussions of boundary breaking.

Jennifer Wesley addresses a similar issue in her 2003 article, “Where am I going to stop?”: exotic dancing, fluid body boundaries, and effects on identity. The

author suggests that there is a strong connection between dancers’ bodies and their

identities, and that these two aspects of self are inextricably linked. Wesley finds

that women create physical and emotional boundaries at work in order to protect

themselves from viewing their bodies as the only commodity worth purchasing.

The problems arise when dancers begin to allow their boundaries to become fluid;

that is, women’s boundaries tend to expand or contract with each customer and the

amount of money that is available. Wesley refers to this concept as “fluid body

boundaries” (Wesley, 2003: 483). More specifically, the ways in which dancers push

the bounds of physical interaction are delineated by the amount of money that each

customer has to offer, and what sort of act he wants performed. Dancers tend to

18 face emotional strife when they continually allow their boundaries (or comfort

zones) to become fluid (Wesley, 2003).

Wesley further posits that the ways in which fluidity of boundaries varies is

greatly dependent on women’s objectification in exchange for monetary gain. This

relationship causes detrimental affects to the dancers, who then internalize their

value based on how much money men perceive them as being worth. However,

equally important is how afflicted the women are by their decision to allow their

boundaries to become fluid in exchange for cash. Often, Wesley says, this can lead to

regret and identity confliction (Wesley, 2003). Many dancers attempt self-

preservation by separating body and mind (or identity), and Wesley finds that this is

often ineffective, and that women take this conflicting sense of self home when they

leave the clubs. This is due, in part, to the fact that many dancers create a persona

while at work that differentiates the dancer from her true identity and allows her to

take solace in this separation, believing that the acts of the dancer are not really the acts of the real woman, but instead, that of a character she plays. Wesley finds that all of these factors eventually negatively impact women that work as strippers This notion largely adheres to the radical feminist perspective.

All of these articles included some unique areas of study that were essential to my understanding of my own research and the type of information was missing from academic studies, in general. My work draws varying elements from each of these pieces. Additionally, I separately present the eight categories that influence self-esteem and the ways in which stripping affects a woman’s life both inside and outside of the club. Perhaps most importantly, each of the academic journals had

19 moved away from strict adherence to either one of the feminist perspectives, and

instead, they took on the view that a combination of these ideas provided a more

accurate portrayal of women’s experiences with stripping. I took this concept one

step further and investigated how stripping affected women’s self-esteem, and how

this relationship manifested itself in their lives outside of work.

Research Methods

I engaged in a systematic content analysis of memoirs. The memoirs included eleven works written by women whom had spent at least a year working as exotic dancers and were not working or writing from an academic perspective.

Additionally, I included eleven pieces of scholarly literature that were written as a result of academic research and served only as a point of reference for my study. In essence, these articles provided important background information about the existing state of research concerning topics similar to my own. The memoirs, however, constitute my primary data sources and are a reflection of the women’s personal experiences with stripping.

Criteria for memoir selection included popularity, public accessibility, recent publishing date (no earlier than 1990), and first-hand stripping experience of the author. These memoirs were selected as a data source because, unlike academic studies of workers or strip clubs, memoirs reach a much wider audience and are thus likely to have a greater impact on the public’s perception of stripping than are the academic journals. These autobiographical pieces have a broader reach due to

20 their availability and the ease of public access, not just in terms of physical availability, but because they are intellectually accessible as well.

The memoirs are relatable, and I would expect that consumers can identify with many of the conflicts and triumphs these women experience throughout their careers, because at the heart of it, the struggles and victories described are those of being human. The memoirs are written by women with a variety of educational attainment, ranging from high school through graduate school and Ph.D. candidates.

Each of the pieces are written in unique stylistic ways, some using slang, others adopting a more technical vernacular, but all presenting first-hand information on the affects of stripping in the women’s lives.

A comparative study of memoirs, such as this one, has not been undertaken before. Thus, this project allows me to present an original analysis. Additionally, all of the pieces selected for this study were written in the last two decades, with most of the memoirs having been written in the last five years. Time is an important

factor as it allows for the reflection of evolving societal standards and expectations.

Particularly in regards to an industry that is stigmatized, having access to recent and up-to-date research is essential in understanding the concepts that the women are

facing. This allows for the elimination of non-relevant issues due to time sensitivity.

Furthermore, not only am I examining information regarding stripping that is

reaching the public, but I am also collecting data directly from the voices of the women who experienced it. In contrast to the scholarly literature, this is an

examination of primary documentation of the women’s experiences. For these

reasons, the criteria for memoir selection was chosen. The importance of public

21 accessibility, a recent publishing date, and first-hand experience are all essential

components to ensuring that the information provided by these memoirs is

relevant, approachable, and up-to-date, both in content and in its location in

evolving social standards. While the academic articles are excluded from the

primary data that is being examined, I will nevertheless link the memoirs to their

findings.

The memoirs that are included in the analysis (and arranged alphabetically

by author) are:

-Lapdancer by Juliana Beasley -Strip City by Lily Burana -Candy Girl by Diablo Cody -Confessions of a Las Vegas Stripper, A Dancer’s Tail by Diamond -Bare: On Women, Dancing, Sex, and Power by Elisabeth Eaves -Dance Like No One is Watching by Erica L. Fisher -Girl, Undressed by Ruth Fowler -How to Make Love Like a Porn Star by Jenna Jameson -Confessions of a Stripper, Tales from the VIP Room by Lacey Lane -Ivy League Stripper by Heidi Mattson -Magic Gardens: The Memoirs of Viva Las Vegas by Viva Las Vegas

At the time of memoir selection, I had a general outline of the topics that I intended to include in my study; however, I also allowed the women’s experiences to guide the specifics. I created a simple coding scheme at the outset of the project and then implemented it by reading and coding concurrently. This included making further notes, remarks, and reminders as I went along. I continued this process for each book, highlighting specific passages that were essential to my written work.

Once this phase was complete, I began to separate the findings by book and category, noting specific pages, so that I could easily return to them for reference as

I was writing. While this was the most labor-intensive step in the process, it was

22 also incredibly helpful in drawing different elements of each category together. At

the completion of the coding process, I eliminated two of the original categories. I

did not feel that either category, body image or perspectives on men, garnered

enough attention to necessitate their own section, and instead addressed both of

these issues through their addition to existing categories.

Findings

Presented in this section are the findings pertaining to my research question,

what is the relationship between stripping and self-esteem and how does this affect

the women’s lives? I facilitate the discussion by breaking the findings into the

discrete categories listed in the introduction.

Motivations for Entry

I undertook this project with a fair understanding of the sex industry, and

more specifically, of stripping. Even with this knowledge, I encountered surprises. I expected to find that women began their tenures in exotic dance due to one of three

reasons. I predicted that women became dancers because they needed money, they

enjoyed dancing, or they were seeking some pleasure that stripping could provide. I

thought there was potential for women to be drawn to stripping as a hedonistic

quest with high earning potential. These assumptions weren’t far off, and all three

of these reasons were key for some women’s entry into the sex industry; however,

they weren’t exhaustive.

There are as many reasons for becoming a dancer as there are strippers. In

many ways, this personal agency creates an atmosphere where situational

23 dichotomies are possible. What I wasn’t expecting, however, was for women to say that they began stripping to escape the static and monotonous nature of their lives.

A few women even mentioned stripping as a way to walk on the “wild side” and to embrace the excitement and danger that they had failed to encounter in their upbringings. Diablo Cody, Ruth Fowler, and Viva Las Vegas all cite a desire for excitement, an escape from the normalcy of their childhoods, and the expected norms for intelligent, educated, and motivated young women as the reasons they began stripping. Taking the sexual radical perspective, Cody says,

“So when-why - did my little red Corvette veer onto the freeway of indecency?

I think I’ve finally got it sussed. Most girls get into stripping because they’ve

discovered a fast crowd, are mired in financial woe or have lived with

dysfunction for so long that they’re naturally drawn to the fucked-up family

dynamic in strip clubs. For me, it was the polar opposite. I had spent my

entire life choking on normalcy, decency, and Jif sandwiches with the crusts

amputated. For me, stripping was an unusual kind of escape. I had nothing

to escape from but privilege, but I claimed asylum anyway. At twenty-four, it

was my last chance to reject something and become nothing. I wanted to

terrify myself. Mission accomplished” (Cody, 210).

Money also plays an important role in the decision for most women to begin stripping; it is perhaps the most influential factor of all. To emphasize this point, there is not a single woman that did not mention money as a motivating factor for their entry into the sex industry. While cash in hand may not have been the primary factor in deciding to dance, it held varying degrees of importance for all of the

24 women. Whatever their reasons and desires, the pull of money was strong, and there was no ignoring the fact that, “A stripper’s story may end in any number of ways, but the beginning rarely varies: Young woman needs money” (Burana, 265).

As many of the women mention, stripping beats alternative forms of work that involve the very boredom and monotony from which they were seeking to escape- a boredom that does not afford them the opportunities that stripping does.

Money is not the only reason women begin dancing, however. A combination of reasons compel women to strip. There are an endless concoction of circumstances that lead one to enter the world of exotic dance, and oftentimes it takes some soul-searching to truly understand the decision. I found that women claimed to enter to support their children, (Diamond, 2004 and Fisher, 2006) or to dance only as long as they needed to bank a certain amount of money (Fowler,

2008); however these same women gave alternative explanations as well. For

Diamond, it was the lure of dancing, a pastime that she loved and felt empowered by. For Fowler, it was many things: employment to establish residency and obtain a green card, an escape from normalcy, a fear of lost independence that necessitated a return to her family in Wales. While there are certain unifying characteristics (need for money, desire to escape mundane and rule-abiding pasts), each woman has her own unique story that led her into stripping .

Power and Control

Power and control were perhaps the most highly regarded aspects of the women’s lives overall. This is a large category that encapsulates feelings of autonomy, empowerment, and financial independence. It also includes feelings of

25 despair and powerlessness, the creation and maintenance of boundaries, the ability

to manipulate men, and the ways that customer interactions influenced self-esteem.

This category includes both positive and negative feelings of power and control.

The women’s emphasis on the value of feeling in control of their lives demonstrated its importance. It is the combination of emotions that result from the author’s feelings of power or powerlessness, and likewise the amount of control that they feel in their lives, that shows how mixed the effects of stripping can be. Some events are clearly more important than others in dictating these feelings, but none leave the women unaffected.

Money, personal freedom, (ability to dictate how much one works, flexibility in scheduling, how one used or displayed her sexuality, stripping as a form of creativity, etc.) and a feeling of control over men are three ways in which power and control appeared most commonly. The creation and maintenance of personal boundaries with which a woman could map out her comfort zone and decide upon what she was and was not willing to do as well as how she was willing to let others behave towards her was incredibly important. This was a huge point that was made unanimously across all eleven memoirs. For many women there was a direct connection between her self-esteem and how true she was to staying within the boundaries that she had created. This is not to say that the intangible lines were stagnant or unyielding, for many women they did change with time and experience; however, a respect of these personal feelings played an enormous role in how a woman felt about herself. The boundaries created a barrier for many women, which allowed them to keep a little part of themselves separate from what they showed

26 men at the club each night. More simply, boundaries allowed them to create and

dispel a fantasy at will.

Many of the women noted other ways in which their jobs regularly

empowered them, and they also emphasized the importance of being in control of

their lives, their bodies, their minds, their finances, and ultimately, their destinies.

This sense of control, even in minor situations, was so important because it

imparted strength and self worth.

Finally, there were the negative impacts of working in a job that allowed

customers, management, and even co-workers to influence a woman’s feelings

about herself. While the majority of the issues surrounding power and control were

identified as positive and validating, there were also the feelings of worthlessness,

rejection, powerlessness, and a perceived loss of control. The feelings of loss of

power and control appeared less frequently, however, they were still quite

prevalent and often had strong emotions attached. Ruth Fowler demonstrates this

when she says, “I believed the myths before I started working: It’s all about empowerment! Embracing our vaginas and exerting power over men! The myth that replaces the other myth, the older one, the more accurate one: Strippers and porn stars and all those people in the business are stupid, abused, fucked-up whores with

Daddy issues” (Fowler, 104). As Fowler grew more jaded by her experiences in the industry, she began to internalize this perspective. For some dancers, it is an accurate portrayal of how potent these negative feelings about stripping can be.

Additionally, a feeling of power gained by having a man empty his wallet could leave a dancer feeling high for an hour, or even a night. However, the

27 powerlessness accompanied by the loss of control of a situation, the overstepping of

one’s personal boundaries, or the feeling of being violated could be deeply buried,

allowing detrimental effects on women’s psyches that could last a lifetime. The

negative affects of stripping are difficult to ignore, but the women’s experiences of

stripping as a beneficial means of employment are incredibly important also. As

Elisabeth Eaves notes, stripping is a choice, and it is up to each woman to decide how she feels about her experience, nobody can make her feel as if it is a shameful position if she chooses not to feel ashamed (Eaves, 2002).

Money :

More often than not, money was listed as one of the most empowering

benefits of stripping, but it can also be a woman’s emotional downfall when she

links it to her self worth. A great night financially left many of the women flying

high; however, just the opposite was true as well. One bad night could mean

despair, rejection, and feelings of worthlessness. Perhaps Elisabeth Eaves nails it

when she says, “The dollar amount of a particular hour or night were as symbolic as

they were utilitarian. The money told us what we were worth” (Eaves, 271).

While ten of the women experienced the rollercoaster of emotions

mentioned above, Diamond was the exception. She maintained control of her

feelings regardless of what type of cash she was bringing in saying, “I thank God that

I have so much more going for me and used dancing for the money and never took

anything personal. I never let it get me down” (Diamond, 56).

Diablo Cody is quick to emphasize the power that she associated with making

money by working as both a stripper in a more traditional club, as well as a sex

28 worker in a peep show (the main difference being that in the peep show, a sheet of

glass separated the women from the customers, who were allowed to masturbate as

the women danced). After being asked to partake in a “panty auction” at one club,

she says, “I squatted on my haunches and struggled to collect all my money. The

mess of bills was almost too much to carry, but somehow I didn’t care. A couple of

strippers passing through the VIP room stopped to gawk. I waved and ran naked up

the stairs to the dressing room, flush with power” (Cody, 106). As she continued to

enjoy her lucrative work as an exotic dancer, Cody expanded her horizons and

began working at Sex World. Here, she worked semi to fully nude behind a glass

partition and engaged in a variety of activities from stripping to sex toy shows. After her first day of work she says, “I felt strangely satisfied. I’d made $200 for a laughably minimal amount of effort. I mean, I actually got paid to masturbate for six

hours! Behind the window, I felt cherished and untouchable” (Cody, 158).

The academic literature, too, demonstrates that there is a relationship

between money and empowerment. Perhaps this is because cash flow is one of the

ways that women can quantify the quality of their work, or because it creates a

direct link to validation of self. The relationship between money, power, and self-

esteem are intertwined in a complex way, and it is often difficult to differentiate

which one is truly at the source of a woman’s happiness. As one dancer states, “I am

amazed and intoxicated by the control. When they lay those hundred dollar bills on

the table it is a super rush with me. I’m addicted to the power” (Deshotels &

Forsyth, 2006: 232).

29 Freedom :

The women’s ability to decide how they choose to use their bodies and display their sexuality was essential to whether or not they felt in control of a situation. Eaves explained, “Strippers were free of the straightjacket. They were not only permitted to be ostentatiously sexual, they were celebrated for it. No one, I was sure, told them that their skirts were too short or that they should be aware of their reputations” (Eaves, 33). A little later she states, “I got all the sexual affirmation I needed now in a few hours a day. I cared less than I had before whether men thought I was attractive or sexy. And I felt now as if I could control when I was looked at and when I wasn’t” (Eaves, 69). Similarly, Heidi Mattson acknowledges that while she had felt disenchanted with being seen as a “sex object” at school, she could take the power back at work. “Why not take charge of it? Make it mine and use it constructively. It was powerful, I could be powerful. I decided that I deserved to be powerful” (Mattson, 148).

Most of the academic literature mirrored these findings, with women generally feeling empowered by their ability to capitalize on the use of their sexuality, both financially and through of increased self-esteem. For example, one dancer in Barton’s study found herself able to capture her seemingly dormant sexuality as well as discover an understanding of her body and a connection to her own pleasure through dancing. She explained that stripping let her explore her sexuality in ways that she had not previously been able to, and she was surprised to find that dancing turned her on and gave her an acceptable way to get in touch with her feelings and desires (Barton, 2007).

30 Jenna Jameson demonstrates the freedom and empowerment that stripping provided for her in terms of making enough money so that she could create her own schedule. She says, “if you can walk into a room, lead on a bunch of guys, and then leave with a few thousand dollars in cash in your pocket and no obligation to anyone-not even an obligation to show up to work the next day-life is good”

(Jameson, 49). Viva Las Vegas agrees with this idea in her book, Magic Gardens , a portrayal of the few years that she spent living a fast-paced life and working as an exotic dancer in Portland, Oregon. In regard to the freedom that stripping provided her, she says, “ I loved being a stripper, loved the cowgirl identity of having no one to answer to, galloping around the Wild West, independent and free” (Vegas, 87).

Additionally, Diablo Cody explains how liberating stripping can be since it creates an atmosphere in which women can set their own hours, develop their own boundaries, and endeavor to make as much cash as they desire. They are bound by nobody’s rules but their own (Cody, 2006).

Jameson, Vegas, and Cody’s sentiments are echoed in the academic studies.

Feelings of power and autonomy are generated through the ability to dictate one’s schedule (freedom), feelings of agency in setting personal boundaries (boundaries), and potential to gain financial independence (money). One can see how all of these elements in conjunction can be very empowering indeed.

On the other hand, not all experiences are positive. One of the ways that stripping can be both a benefit and a detriment to women’s emotional well-being and self-esteem is typified by Mattson’s statement, “Unconsciously, I had learned to be an object…I could celebrate the power of the stage, but it did not empower me”

31 (Mattson, 215). This is a perfect example of the dichotomies that many of the

women experience. Emotions often run the gamut from ecstatic to depressed, and

they can be experienced very quickly due to the rapidly changing atmosphere in

which the women work. Erica Fisher had a similarly negative experience, and she

explains how the benefits of the initial sexual empowerment fade quickly, “I wasn’t even aware in the beginning of the ego trip of being considered sexy. It later turned out that it doesn’t last that long before it’s not sexy anymore anyway” (Fisher, 3). A more extreme example appears in Lapdancer, where Juliana Beasley tells the story

of a co-worker whose career was ruined when a customer overstepped her

boundaries. “I decided to quit, no matter how great the money was. I just couldn’t

smile through it. I was completely enraged by men touching my breasts. I felt out of

control, violated” (pages unnumbered).

Control :

In a society (and an industry) that is largely dominated by men in management positions, women are often viewed as lacking equal status. Many of the authors note that they have felt like second-class citizens at some point due to their gender. Therefore, it is not surprising that many of these women have sought out opportunities in which they can feel empowered. For many of the women, stripping is this outlet. While a genuine disgust and disbelief of some customer behavior was common, this section focuses on the occasions when the women felt like they had turned the tables and taken advantage of their position as lust, fear, or envy-inducing vixens. Many dancers reported feeling in control of the situation and

32 the men with whom they engaged at work, and this provided a sense of power that

they felt was unique to stripping.

“The power and control you have over the men is incredible. It’s the kind of

power that most women have never had before. Once you feel it, it’s in your blood.

It is one of the few reasons it’s hard to leave the occupation, money would be the

number one reason, power and control would be numbers two and three”

(Diamond, xi), and later she says, “You could get anything you wanted from these guys once they were under your spell” (Diamond, 71). While Diamond’s claim of the

importance of power over men is general, some of the women are more specific,

mentioning the ability to entrance men, entice them to hand over great sums of

money, and to induce them into states of pure longing and awe. Viva Las Vegas

comments, “All you really have to do is smile at them and they get all fired up”

(Vegas, 37). Power is also gained by dictating the rules of the dance and having the freedom to touch, but not be touched in return. Still, other women find power in their ability to seduce the men and in manipulating them into believing outlandish

lies that keep them returning to the club. Lacey Lane goes even further and says,

“when you step inside a strip club, the roles are immediately reversed. Here, the

dancers are the hunters and the men are the prey” (Lane, xii).

In contrast to these experiences are the times when men re-gain the power.

This is usually due to a failure or inability of the women to assert their control. Cody

says, “Most egregious of all, I’d allowed myself to be totally exploited by customers

because I couldn’t imagine why anyone would want me otherwise” (Cody, 147). It

is exactly these feelings of lacking control that makes the women feel rejected or

33 invalidated, and it can cause a major blow to self-esteem. On the other hand, Cody takes ample opportunity to describe the beneficial experiences that stripping provided. Overall, she is quite complimentary of her time working as an exotic dancer and is grateful for the opportunities that it presented. In a strange twist of events, Cody describes reclaiming the power and reversing gender roles in a malicious way saying, “I would snare customers in my golden locks and bind them until they were purple and gasping. Then, I’d grab their wallets and run cackling into the night. Rapunzel the rapist. Fucking right on ” (Cody, 100). Of course this is not a literal depiction of Cody’s experience, but it is an excellent demonstration of the importance of perception in affecting how women feel about themselves and their work.

Boundaries :

The creation and enforcement of personal boundaries, or comfort zones, may be the most highly touted and commonly referenced element of power and control.

To many of the women, deciding upon and mapping out the exact behaviors they were willing to engage in and what they were comfortable with in terms of customer behavior was an essential element of maintaining one’s dignity and possessing feelings of power and autonomy. Similarly, deciding to which degree each woman was willing to stick to or sacrifice her adherence to these boundaries could dictate, in large part, how she felt about herself.

Failure to maintain these boundaries often leads to feelings of powerlessness. In extreme cases it even manifested itself as a complete loss of control, shame, regret, guilt, self-loathing or loss of self-worth. In addition, many

34 women found boundaries useful in creating a barrier between their professional and personal lives. Some women even create entirely separate identities for work and home; the notion of boundaries was this important. Without these barriers, power and control hung in the balance, a risk most of the women were unwilling to take. As Elisabeth Eaves said, “I needed to have boundaries, and have them respected, and respect those of others” (Eaves, 292).

Perhaps without working in such a stigmatized industry, it is difficult to understand how important the enforcement of personal boundaries are to maintaining a feeling of safety, feeling like a valued member of the work environment, and self-respect. Why exactly are these boundaries so important?

From the women’s perspectives, it seems that it is essential that they engage in boundary maintenance due to the emotional turmoil that results when these lines are crossed and because of the intimate nature of the work.

So, what happens when the women find themselves outside of their comfort zones? One extreme case occurred when Viva Las Vegas’ stripping career presented her with the opportunity to act in an independent movie. It turned out that the film was more explicit than she expected and even as it was making her “truly uncomfortable” (Vegas, 142), she continued with a scene that left her feeling violated saying, “I had crossed some personal boundary that day, whether I wanted to admit it or not” (Vegas, 143).

Vegas admits living with the consequences of her actions that day and is flooded with feelings of regret. Her situation was not unique though, and like many of the women, Erica Fisher was tempted to push her personal boundaries due to the

35 lure of money. Early in her stripping career Fisher declined to dance at private

parties, knowing that the risk to her safety was elevated because the protocol was

different from that of the club. At a bachelor party, there was no telling exactly what

would occur if any of the men drank too much or acted inappropriately, and this

caused Fisher to steer clear initially. However, there was always the money and the

exciting stories that the other dancers told in the dressing room. Fisher decided to

give it a try, and she had a couple of successful experiences before the one that ultimately made her withdrawal from private parties, referring to it as “the one party I truly regret having experienced” (Fisher, 63).

Fisher says that she ultimately regretted her decision to participate in these parties because she felt that she had lost control and compromised her boundaries, feelings that she still can’t shake. She emphasizes the idea of feeling haunted by her decisions in the pursuit of money saying, “Never mind that it was costly, so much that I think I’m still paying now. If through nothing else other than not being able to forget all of these memories” (Fisher, 65). The inability to escape disturbing thoughts or recollections of a time when boundaries were crossed is common, and it stood out as one of the ways that women were negatively affected by stripping.

Lane sums it up saying, “Never again in my topless career did I allow myself to venture outside of my sobriety comfort zone. It just wasn’t worth the risk” (Lane,

75).

Mapping out specific guidelines of behavior doesn’t exist simply though. The longer the women worked and the more they began to understand the true nature of the job, the more their boundaries tended to expand. Mostly the lure of money or

36 a desire to be the center of a customer’s adulation are the reasons for this expansion. For Cody, the more comfortable she became in her work atmosphere,

the more she was willing to experiment. As she changed from a newcomer to a

seasoned veteran, she realized that her idea of acceptable behavior was vastly

expanding, and she grew her repertoire accordingly (Cody, 2006).

On the other hand, the times when women uphold their boundaries are

equally important in their ability to feel empowered. The simple ability to perceive

the outcome of a situation as a matter of choice can lend a sense of control to women working in a deeply stigmatized and largely male-dominated environment.

Unfortunately, these cases occur less frequently because the effects of the highs of

boundary maintenance aren’t as influential as the lows that follow boundary

breaking. The bad memories stick around, but the positive ones fade quickly as

these unwritten rules are tested repeatedly.

There are additional factors that contribute to the empowered/powerless

paradigm, but money, freedom, control, and boundaries are the most frequently

recurring. The elements that contribute to a woman’s sense of power and control at

work and in her life outside of the club are vast and varied, but each plays an

important role in how the women feel about themselves. Clearly, the dancers

experienced both positive and negative affects of stripping on power and control,

and thus, self-esteem.

Stripping’s Effects on Relationships

Interpersonal relationships that had an influence on self-esteem primarily fell into one of three categories: family, significant others, and friends. The ability or

37 inability for a dancer to be able to discuss her career with loved ones often weighed

heavily upon her conscience. Many women reported a hesitancy to discuss

stripping, and this fear eroded their confidence and instilled in them a sense of

shame and doubt. The ways in which parents, partners, and friends responded to a

woman’s choice to strip could significantly affect her feelings of self-worth.

Understandably, many women emphasized the importance of parental

acceptance. Some women divulged the information about their career immediately,

while others struggled to come clean. Their hesitancies were not unfounded, as

some parents responded with a range of emotion from heartbroken to angry to

disapproving. These were the types of rejections that were arguably the most

painful for the women to bear. For example, while Burana was fortunate to have a

supportive boyfriend at the time, she knew that her parents would be broken by the

news, lamenting, “I will be anything but what I fear most: a disappointment”

(Burana, 114). She follows with a reflection on her selfishness in the disclosure of

this information saying, “The truth may have set me free, but what did it do to

them?” (Burana, 211).

Heidi Mattson (1995) describes the mixed emotions that result from loved

ones’ reactions to discovering her involvement in the sex industry. She says that

working as a stripper was one of the most painful things that she put her mother

through, and that their relationship was damaged by this decision; however, she

also rejoices the fact that many of her dear friends and family members supported

her decision to dance. While the strain that she unwittingly caused on her relationship with her mother was terribly painful and detrimental to her self-

38 esteem, she was able to regain confidence knowing that she had the support of

others that mattered to her.

While I found that parents’ reactions to the women’s career could be quite

influential, the support and understanding of a significant other could positively influence a woman’s experience of her work also. Diablo Cody and Lily Burana are

two women who married the men they were dating while stripping. The common

thread in these relationships was the emotional support that the men provided and

their understanding and acceptance of the deviant nature of the women’s work.

Burana was on her second foray into stripping and knew what she was

seeking in a partner. She felt that any man she would consider becoming

romantically involved with had to accept her job as an important part of her life,

saying, “I’m really clear that I need someone who is unfazed by that part of me. I

don’t require applause, or even approval. Just someone who can hang” (Burana, 19).

Fortunately she found that someone in Randy, her current husband, a man that

treats her and her work with “admiration, protection, and honor” (Burana, 177).

On the other hand, women like Ruth Fowler couldn’t seem to catch a break.

Throughout her memoir Fowler dates men that don’t respect her work, are jealous

of the customers that she interacts with, and allow their own insecurities to emerge

as emotional and verbal abuse. Sadly, having a difficult time with dating and

developing a respectful relationship was common in the academic studies as well.

In the case of these women, partners who did not pull their weight were the norm

rather than the exception. Bradley’s work, entitled Girlfriends, Wives, and Strippers: managing stigma in exotic dancer romantic relationships , highlights how difficult the

39 delicate balance between working in a stigmatized and highly sexualized career and

managing a healthy romantic relationship can be. Specifically, since public

perception holds that stripping is still considered deviant, there are a host of stressors applied to the relationship of an exotic dancer that are not present in other

partnerships. Bradley says, “these couples face particular challenges as dancers

attempt to balance the expectations of their partners with the demands of their

profession” (Bradley, 2006: 379).

While the acceptance of family members and romantic partners was

incredibly important, the remarks of friends, co-workers, and strangers proved

quite potent as we;;. Some feedback that the women received from friends was

warm and understanding, but some of the words were hurtful. Self-esteem was

often negatively impacted despite the women’s acknowledgement that much of

what they heard about their profession was stereotypical and over-exaggerated;

however, it was a blow nonetheless, and even one small and seemingly benign

remark could create an internal stir.

People tend to classify women that work in exotic dance as strippers and

nothing else. It is as if their jobs encapsulate all that they are, and it allows them to be presented in one tidy and self-explanatory package. Outsiders believe that they understand what it means to be a stripper, and this becomes a stigmatizing and all- encompassing identity that is difficult to escape. This leads many women not to share how they earn their living, there is simply too much judgment (Eaves, 2002).

Fowler explains this phenomenon by saying,

40 “We share things, similarities, understanding. Not that we are dancers,

strippers, whores, sluts, hos. Just that we did a job because we felt we could

cope with the consequences, the sheer weight of our apostasy, the nuclear

fallout, not realizing that the half life would be for all eternity, and that the job

would be what we were known for whenever we entered a room…” (Fowler,

212).

Motivation for Remaining in the Business

An examination of the motives that drive women to begin stripping has demonstrated that there are a host of reasons. The explanation is not typically one- dimensional. Need for money, love of dance, or desire to escape the normalcy of their past lives play a role in the decision to begin stripping. It makes sense then that the women have similar reasons for continuing their careers. Diamond casts the net even further explaining that women have a myriad of reasons for remaining in the industry, “Some do it to pay for school; others, like me, had schooling but don’t care for the eight to five thing. Plus, you really can’t beat the money. Others do it for their drug habit, or to support their useless boyfriends. Some send money home to foreign countries to support their families. Others aren’t capable of holding down a regular job” (Diamond, 2004).

Quite frequently women have a primary reason for remaining in the industry, such as the allure of the financial payoffs. However, secondary reasons, such as a lack of desirable alternatives, or the love of the freedom and power that the job provides can be hugely influential also. Aside from the financial benefits of stripping, many women find that dancing nude on stage can be thrilling and

41 empowering in a way that alternative careers cannot, and they become addicted

(Cody, 2006).

Diamond, for example, says that money was the reason that she both entered

and remained in the industry. At the time she began dancing, she was raising two

young children on her own. Diamond was grateful for the job because it allowed her

the income to live comfortably. By stripping, she was able to provide a life for her family that included vacations and road trips (Diamond, 2004). For Diamond, this

feeling of empowerment and stability was a boost to her self-esteem, and so she

ultimately perceived her experience stripping as a positive one. Of her time in the

industry she says, “I love my life now and would never change the fact that I danced

because it got me everything I have today. I would never put dancing down in any

way. I loved the job and the money I could make as a single parent” (Diamond, 30).

While money was her primary reason for dancing, Diamond also said that she loves

to dance, and that stripping provided her an outlet for this (Diamond, 2004).

Furthermore, when asked by customers why she choose this career, she says that

her typical response was, “How many people do you know get paid to drink, dance,

and get semi-naked? Sounds like fun to me!” (Diamond, 38).

Ruth Fowler had a predicament of her own that dancing initially helped to

solve, but she eventually began to feel shame and regret about stripping (Fowler,

2008). When Fowler, a native of Wales, came to New York City, she had never

formally worked in the United States. She knew nobody and desperately needed a

place to live. While she writes about stripping being an escape, it’s clear that

dancing was as damaging emotionally as it was helpful in providing a paycheck. As

42 Fowler began her foray into the sex industry, she claimed the earning potential as

the driving reason for entering; however, while the money remained essential, she

spent a lot of energy explaining how the escape from normalcy was important to her

as well. Ultimately, the cash kept her in the game, but the other freedoms that stripping provided were secondary factors affecting her decision to remain in this stigmatized line of work (Fowler, 2008).

However the women explain it, money always comes into the picture. Some need money to pay bills, pay rent, raise children. Others simply find the allure of fast cash and the power that they associate with stripping very tempting. To emphasize the importance of money on the decision to continue stripping, many of the women, such as Fowler, Vegas, and Mattson were college-educated. Even the majority of the women who were not made it clear that they had work alternatives, but that dancing was the most interesting and lucrative opportunity. The amount of money the women could make in a short period was a huge incentive, and it provided a self-esteem boost because it allowed more freedom in dictating their schedules.

For Mattson, like Fowler, the ability to make great money was even more compelling than for most of the other women, and they each continued to dance in order to finance necessities in their respective lives. For Fowler, stripping was one of very few occupations that allowed her to work without a green card (Fowler,

2008). For Mattson, it allowed her to realize her dream of attending Brown

University, an opportunity that would have been impossible without her additional wages (Mattson, 1995). Both women struggled with the decision to remain in the

43 industry, and both thought about leaving at times, but as Mattson notes, “As

daunting as these experiences were for me, I admit that I thought about economics,

constantly” (Mattson, 111). Even though she worked for the money, Mattson put a

positive spin on stripping. She says that enjoyed her work and that it positively

impacted her life because, “I would make my living as a stripper and devote my

intellectual energies and free time to bettering myself through travel, writing, and

reading. These were my hopes. I was a stripper with a plan” (Mattson, 254).

While the authors each had their own reasons for remaining in the business, they all stayed relatively positive about the ways in which it would help them achieve their goals. On the other hand, the women from the academic studies generally felt very strongly one way or the other in regard to the empowerment paradigm. As demonstrated by Thompson, Harred, & Burks (2003) women felt emotionally crippled by their decisions. One dancer said, “Times are tough and jobs are hard to find-especially if you don’t even have a high school diploma. I’m not proud of what I do, but it supports me and my kids…If it means I’ve got to come in here and humiliate myself four or five days a week, so be it” (Thompson, Harred &

Burks, 2003: 564). This is an example of one extreme, but the sentiment is very raw, powerful, and honest. This is clearly a woman that continues to strip because of the lack of alternatives.

There are also women that continue to dance both because the money is great and because it allows them to live their lives as they desire. The financial benefits and male attention empower some and make them feel like goddesses

(Bradley-Engen & Ullmer, 2009). These women tended to focus on the positive

44 feedback that they received from customers and the other ways in which their jobs

boosted their self-esteem. Generally, the academic studies included experiences of

women that fell to one side of the extreme or the other. These women tended to

remain in the industry because of the money, but whether or not they saw this as

empowering or disempowering was unique to the individual. Commonly, if the

woman felt that she needed the job and did not have acceptable alternatives, she felt

completely powerless in her situation; however, if a dancer perceived herself to

have control and autonomy in her decision to continue working, she felt richly

empowered by her lucrative career and the opportunities that it afforded her.

Creating a Persona

The creation of a stripper persona is a common component of self-

preservation. Not all of the women created an entirely different personality for

work, but every woman created a sort of fictitious identity at some point. The

creation of a persona involves the changes that women made by altering their

physical appearance, creating a stage name, or changing aspects of their

personalities and personal backgrounds. In extreme cases, such as those of Ruth

Fowler and Viva Las Vegas, it included the creation of a dual personality. These two

women constructed entirely new and different personas that they referred to in the

third person. These characters existed outside of their primary identities, and even their behaviors, attitudes, and styles were different. In essence, Fowler and Vegas became someone else entirely when they entered the club; they maintained two disparate lives and identities (Fowler, 2008 and Vegas, 2009). However, the ways

45 that women altered their appearances, their stories, or their behaviors for work

were generally subtler.

There were two distinct ways in which the women used the creation of a

persona at work. The first was to use the “stripper” character as a form of defense and protection. This included shielding information about their real identities or

other items of personal importance from public knowledge, so that the women

could retain some sense of self and privacy. This behavior was often noted as a way for the women to keep private a small piece of themselves that was inaccessible to

customers. This change in identity also allowed the dancers to create new and

fictitious facts about themselves, their feelings, and their lives as a form of defense.

As a defense mechanism, this allowed for the creation of intangible barriers between the women and their customers when they were in a situation that made them uncomfortable. In this way, dancers were able to distance their true selves from their characters’ actions. Some women mentioned disassociation, while others spoke of the importance of a disconnect between mind and body, a behavior that allowed them to engage their bodies while disengaging their minds. In these cases, it was almost as if the women were having an out-of-body experience and watching themselves from a distance.

Types of persona creation ranged from relatively mild, such as in Diamond’s case, where she took on a stage name and catered to the customers’ fantasies, but not much else, (Diamond, 2004) to much more pervasive. In Vegas’ case, she became so immersed in her alter ego, Coco Cobra, that she often couldn’t tell where her primary identity left off and her character’s identity began. However, the

46 middle ground is much more typical, with women generally integrating aspects of

their traditional personalities with the roles they play at work. This represents the

merging of different personality traits more than the creation of an entirely new

persona.

In terms of becoming somebody else, Elisabeth Eaves says, “Stripping-in

competition with acting and espionage-is the ultimate job for someone who’s

instinct is to present different facades of who she might be. There is nothing more

illusory than a woman pretending to be a sexual fantasy for money” (Eaves, 7).

Many of the women reported that when they were in character, they were free to act

in ways that they typically wouldn’t. They were bolder, braver, and less inhibited.

Eaves felt like she was watching herself “play a role” when she was working (Eaves,

7), and this provided an emotional safety net.

Another example of the importance of creating a separation between body

and mind in order to facilitate self-preservation is when Eaves says, “In a sense I had

two bodies. There was the one that I lived with, that had sense, hungers, and a connection to my brain. Then there was another entity, separate from myself, that I could look at as the object others held it to be. This disassociation was essential, because the meanings ascribed to my body were simply too arbitrary, and had too

little to do with me, to be taken seriously” (Eaves, 22). While Eaves is able to find

solace in such coping mechanisms, this behavior results from a need to differentiate

one’s true self from the experiences at work, which can be stressful. Many of the

women didn’t want their identities to be threatened or challenged because they

didn’t feel that they could afford to take the negative consequences of work home

47 with them at the end of the night. As Jenna Jameson notes, “I wanted to keep my two

lives separate: to be a mouse during the day and a shark at night” (Jameson, 46). In

this respect, she learned to use an alternative personality not only as a form of protection, but also as a lucrative business plan.

By creating a persona, dancers are defending their true identities. This

means that while their work persona can get hurt, these effects are less likely to

follow them home. Erika Fisher uses Sonya, her stage name, as a way of keeping

herself safe from potential creeps that she meets at work (Fisher, 2006). Lily

Burana uses outfits, changes in makeup, hairstyle, and clothing choices as a defense,

saying, “And always, the big, red wig, which I don each day like a piece of armor”

(Burana, 204). Heidi Mattson discovers the emotional dangers of failing to create a

persona, confessing, “A night could be draining. Because I chose to be myself, I took a greater risk of being affected by each person I related to during a given night. As the Kinky Cop, I was safer” (Mattson, 180). There are a variety of ways that women can use the creation of an alternate identity as a form of protection and defense. As each woman adjusts to the ways that stripping affects her lifestyle, she identifies the

necessary steps to protect herself both physically and emotionally.

Women also used the creation of a persona in a positive way. Many dancers

capitalized on the opportunity to become someone else for a few hours. Most often

this included taking on a stage name, using props, and adopting minor changes in

appearance and wardrobe. This sort of behavior was found as empowering,

thrilling, and sometimes just plain fun. The women enjoyed getting to explore the

hidden aspects of their personalities that lay dormant in their daily lives, and they

48 also found pleasure in pretending to be someone else for a few hours. Generally, this character was a more fearless version of themselves, kicked up with a little attitude and a wicked boost in self-confidence.

For example, Lily Burana says, “I like having the opportunity to reinvent myself every few weeks. A new town, a new club, a new me. Each time I draw up a new character, I incorporate facets of my personality that I wish were more prevalent. If I want to be sweeter, or more patient, polite, understanding, fun-loving, or glamorous, I can draw that out…a girl playing the role of girl” (Burana, 171).

Careful to note that she feels like she is playing a role, Elisabeth Eaves says, “I felt a flush of pleasure every time I heard someone call my new name, as though I were wearing a successful disguise. The fact that I could so easily shed my old name reminded me that I could always become something new” (Eaves, 42). In this sense, creating a persona could take on a very positive association. The authors actually enjoyed the fact that they could try on new identities to see which fit, which was most comfortable, and which they liked the best.

The efforts to create a persona ranged from very subtle, such as wearing a wig, using a fake name, or wearing a new style of makeup, to much more extreme, such as creating a whole different personality; an alter-ego. Diablo Cody recalls catching a glimpse of herself dancing, and feeling like she was watching someone else. She did not recognize herself masked behind this character and she reveled in it, saying,

“Sometimes, though, the money travelled fluidly from a customer’s billfold

into my silver garter. On these nights, I felt bulletproof and diamond-hard.

49 I’d arch my back over a guy’s pelvis during a lap dance, caress my bare

breasts and stare up at the gargantuan crystal chandelier. It was cinematic,

decadent, almost absurd to see myself reflected that way in the mirrored

ceiling panels. I would have barely recognized the girl who stared back at me

if it hadn’t been for the tattoos. Her eyes were so passive, so assured. She

had mastery over her body, something I’d never been able to claim. I’d

always been clumsy and wary of my body’s limitations. As a kid, I hadn’t

even been able to control my bladder, let alone my limbs. But this girl, my

mirror image, didn’t know anything about that. Stripping had stolen her

memory, stripped her membranes and made her into a new animal. Sexy

Bitch , I’d mouth at my reflection” (Cody, 68-69).

As Cody demonstrates, changes in attitude or appearance can inspire huge changes in self-image. With makeup and a wig transforming her, a once gawky and awkward girl transforms into a confident woman.

The Negative Effects and Associations that May Result from Stripping

Of the eight criteria that I used to evaluate the beneficial and detrimental

affects of dancing on self-esteem, this is the only one that presents a one-sided

argument. In this section, I present the negative consequences that can stem from stripping. Some aspects of the job are unique to the sex industry, and it is important to note that a fair amount of these negative associations result from working in a deviant career. In fact, a 2003 study of topless dancing found that public opinion finds stripping a stigmatized field, and that this stigma translated to the dancers, essentially labeling them as deviants (Thompson, Harred, & Burks, 2003).

50 American society agrees that both the work of stripping as well as the atmosphere in which it takes place are clouded under a veil of stigma. This is difficult for many outsiders to move beyond, but how about the insiders? What are some of the difficulties that women face when entering such a career? Many of the issues noted as being problematic or bothersome in stripping are similar to those that any woman faces in the workplace; working in a stigmatized environment does not negate the normal stressors and frustration of everyday occurrences. However, working as a stripper does create some new and unique opportunities through which self-esteem can be negatively impacted. In this section I look at a combination of the typical and atypical experiences that women encounter as a result of their involvement in exotic dance.

One of the detrimental experiences that the women encountered was abuse by managers, male staff members, and customers at the clubs. The altercations ranged from verbal, which was fairly typical, to physical and sexual assault. Multiple women related tales of rape, sexual aggression, threats to their safety, and physical abuse. In the worst cases, dancers were raped, assaulted, or threatened while at work. Sometimes they were victimized in less serious, but equally emotionally harmful ways. Fowler, for example, was raped by a manager at work when she was intoxicated (Fowler, 2008). Juliana Beasley relates the tale of a friend who describes being raped by a customer as if it were a regular hazard of the job (Beasley, 2003).

Diamond encountered a club manager that suggested she pay her house fees in sexual acts, or suffer the consequences (Diamond, 2004), and Cody was amongst a

51 group of women that were regularly so berated, verbally attacked, and harassed that

it led dancers to tears. (Cody, 2006).

Unfortunately, in this line of work, the rules surrounding sexual harassment

become blurred and enforcement is often lax. Sometimes, managers become the

ringleaders and capitalize on their positions of authority and the vulnerability of

their employees. Many women say that assault, abuse, and harassment of all types,

and the range of their acceptability, depends largely on the type of club in which

they work. Typically, the lower income clubs, based in less economically stable

areas, become breeding grounds for this type of abuse (Bradley-Engen and Ullmer,

2009); however, it is certainly not strictly relegated to these clubs. Abuse can

happen anywhere, and it does.

After quitting the club where her superior threatened her, Diamond traveled

to a different city only to be the victim of an attempted sexual assault when a customer slipped a date-rape drug into her drink (Diamond, 2004). Diamond’s

experiences appear to be more the norm than the exception. Diablo Cody explains

that some staff in are irresponsible, using drugs at work and viciously verbally

assaulting the girls, oftentimes using racial slurs and a barrage of misogynistic

expletives. At times, Cody was even afraid to use the restroom, saying, “the

Mustaches didn’t seem too humane for a midstream sabotage” (Cody, 93).

The inability to take a bathroom break at work seems to indicate a pretty

bleak environment, but the instances of abuse get worse. There are experiences like

Ruth Fowler’s, when she was raped by a club manager while she was intoxicated

(Fowler, 2008). Fowler never intended to strip, but her financial situation lead her

52 to desperate measures- measures that eventually made her life a nightmare and filled her with shame and regret. According to her memoir, Fowler entered the world of exotic dance already damaged by the men in her life, but stripping further aggravated her condition of self-loathing and she says of herself, “ I’m not a good girl.

Not really. Not anymore. But I sure as hell would like to be” (Fowler, 4). While there are brief periods of positivity regarding her job and the benefits that she enjoys as a result, Fowler’s memoir ends with lamentations that she has nothing left to lose, and that she came to a point where she ceased to care about life (Fowler, 2008).

Furthermore, the sexual assaults (both before and after her involvement in the sex industry) tainted her views on sex and relationships. Fowler became self- destructive, saying that each day when she began her shift she had to undergo “the ritual of anesthetization” (Fowler, 10).

As related by Fowler, Beasley, and Diamond, sexual assault in the work place was not unheard of. While rape is the worst consequence of working with morally corrupt management, generally sleazy and inappropriate behavior is also harmful.

Experiencing this, along with other negative encounters eventually accrues and takes a toll on the psyches of the women, a concept that Lily Burana refers to as

“stripper damage” (Burana, 221).

Other common themes that the women experienced as having negative impacts on their mental, physical, and emotional health were: the actual and requested acts of prostitution, death and murder of co-workers, consumption of alcohol and narcotics in order to function at work and decrease the negative emotions that were experienced, encounters with undercover cops, disrespectful

53 and aggressive customers, the requirement to kick back a percentage of earnings to

the club and its employees (bouncers, bartenders, DJs), physical soreness and injury,

and perhaps most importantly, the emotional trauma that results from a

combination of these experiences. Over time, these issues manifested themselves as

confusion, shame, and regret in the minds of the women, feelings that Burana says

continue to stay with you long after you have left the stage (Burana, 2001).

Many of the women made a concerted effort to separate stripping from

prostitution. Engaging in prostitution seemed generally to be an offense to the

stripper code of decency. It violated the unspoken agreement that stripping is

dignified and that selling a fantasy is completely different from engaging in that

fantasy for pay. Interestingly enough, a fair number of the women noted that just being asked to sell a sexual act was insulting, disgusting, and humiliating. Burana refers to this phenomenon as seeing the dancers as “retail vagina” (Burana, 164), a concept that is totally dehumanizing. Being asked to have sex with a customer in exchange for money can make a woman feel violated and dirty (Cody, 2006), and the association between stripping and prostitution can land one in jail (Beasley, 2003).

Despite the fact that she was doing nothing illegal, Beasley was caught up in a sting operation in which undercover police officers infiltrated her work and witnessed acts of prostitution. Beasley was arrested and now has an indelible mark on her record, furthering the stigma attached to stripping.

The frustration of being viewed as indiscriminate with their sexualities and their bodies is painful to the women. They are often objectified, being made to feel as if they are just akin to a piece of meat (Cody, 2006). Co-workers were also

54 abused by boyfriends, went missing, overdosed on drugs, or were mysteriously found dead (Vegas, 2009). Additionally, drug and alcohol abuse was common amongst dancers as brief stints of stripping became longer periods out of financial necessity (Fowler, 2008).

Furthermore, each of the women mention the physical toll of dancing, which can be quite taxing. Jenna Jameson even includes a multiple page comic spread, an entire chapter in her book, mapping out the ways that stripping wreaked havoc on her body (Jameson, 64-67). Fowler describes the soreness, pain, aching muscles, and fatigue that make it unbearable to do anything but watch TV and occasionally go to yoga class (Fowler, 2008). Some women experience permanent physical deformations as a result of spending so much time in compromising positions and dangerously high heels (Cody, 2006). As many of the dancers professed, some shifts left them exhausted, sleep-deprived, and beat up. There are other days, however, when grinding on customers, writhing on stage, and dancing on the pole leaves them bloody, scarred, and disfigured. As painful as these injuries may be, the physical symptoms are not as problematic as the emotional trauma that results from stripping.

Lily Burana sums up her experiences by saying, “Stripping left the biggest mark on my soul. To me, dancing has been a lot of things, but I can no longer truthfully say it was ‘just a job.’ Had I known at eighteen that I’d still be struggling to work out stripping more than a decade later, would I have even bothered?”

(Burana, 320). This is a common sentiment amongst many women, and more than a few of their stories end on a similar note. More often than not, women felt used by

55 the job. Generally, there were very mixed emotions surrounding dancing and many

of the women were grateful for the necessities and the character building that

stripping provided them; however, they were left with emotional trauma.

Before Heidi Mattson began stripping she questioned her ability to dance,

claiming that she once thought, “Strippers were desperate people who had no

choices” (Mattson, 87). By the time she departed the industry, she equated the

customers and dancers with animals, and exuded a sense of shame and lament,

saying that she was ultimately paying a price for her choices (Mattson, 1995). Ruth

Fowler painstakingly describes the futility and hopelessness that she feels about her

place in the world as a result of stripping; in essence, she takes on an aimlessness

that robs her of the joys of life (Fowler, 2009).

Fowler has willed herself to become numb to the traumas that she is

experiencing, but ultimately, they remain even after she departs the industry. At

one point she even says that by the time the women hit the stage, they are already

too far gone, there is no saving them and there is no coming back from what they have experienced (Fowler, 2008). Diablo Cody wraps the whole experience up

saying, “I will admit that I was permanently altered by my time living among the

strippers in their moist, humid habitat. I underwent a chemical change as well as a

physical transformation”, and seeking a way out of sorting through her emotional

turmoil she notes, “I wrote this because I never could have let all of this psychic

detritus percolate inside of me forever” (Cody, 211-212). In this way, expressing

her feelings on paper allows her a necessary release, a freedom from the bondage of

the mental anguish that stripping imposes .

56 Reasons for Exiting the Industry

At the time of publishing their memoirs, all of the women had moved on from stripping as their primary career; however, a few still dabbled. Most of them though, had become removed from the whole scene, moving on to new careers, new relationships, new cities, and new lives. It wasn’t unusual for women to view their departure from the industry as necessary in their evolution from wild and independent young women to mature and worldly adults. Most of the authors remarked that stripping is not a permanent form of employment and that it must end eventually. Each of the women felt that they were choosing to leave on their own free will and were ready to move on and experience something different, something better than dancing.

The women reported a number of reasons for leaving. Several faded out of dancing in order to pursue a career in writing or another socially accepted career.

Some left only to enter another segment of the sex industry, such as working in peep shows or as phone sex operators (Cody, 2006); however, none engaged in pornography or prostitution, and they seemed, as a group, to frown upon these occupations. Generally speaking, the women that became involved in stripping primarily for the income were the same ones that left the industry to pursue other careers. In these cases, stripping was often a short-term means to an end, and once the women were able to amass enough income to sustain them in their preferable ventures, they moved on. Diamond, for example, used stripping to realize her dream of opening her own business. She notes that she is now able to travel and take vacations as she pleases, and that dancing allowed her the opportunity to ultimately

57 find a career that she adores. Diamond does, however, offer a word of caution to

other women out there. Diamond says, “Girls, save your money and do something

more with your life” (Diamond, 89).

A good portion of the group left stripping to pursue other interests, and while

some of them are still finding their ways, all of them claim to be happy in their new

careers. Cody, for example, has become famous for writing the screenplay for Juno ,

a popular independent comedy that hit big screens in 2007. Vegas is maintaining a

successful career as a writer, rock star, and actress, as well as working as a

spokeswoman for women in the sex industry; Franks quit stripping almost a decade

ago in order to pursue a Master’s in Alternative Education, has taken up writing, and

settled down with the man she loves. Burana has become a successful magazine

columnist and author. These four women are just examples, but they all claim to be

successful and happy with their current positions in life.

There is not always a positive outcome when women leave the industry. It

can be a difficult decision, namely because stripping provided the dancers with a

significant income. Some of the women also formulated parts of their identities

around their work, and this can be tough to let go. Leaving the industry is scary because it creates visible unexplained absences in one’s résumé (Burana, 2001); it

can be frightening for a variety of reasons, each as individual as the women

themselves.

Many women quit stripping because of the desire to get a legitimate job, to

join the ranks of a non-stigmatized group, to grow up and move on, to pursue other

interests, to become a better significant other, or because they have earned enough

58 money to pursue their passions. None of the women report wanting to strip forever; in fact, they note that their dancing careers have an expiration date (Eaves,

2002).

Leaving dancing was rarely the result of a single act. Instead, it was generally much more of a process for the women. There were hesitations and holdups, there was toying with the idea of leaving, and leaving then briefly returning. All of this happened before the women left for good; and some, like Viva Las Vegas, still appear on stage occasionally. Many women noted emotional and financial hardships as impacting their decision to leave. Some felt lost about their place in the world and were fearful about returning to “straight” jobs. They were apprehensive about time management and a loss of flexibility in creating their own schedules, about having to report to a supervisor, about their ability to carry on “normal” lives, to fulfill their familial responsibilities, and oftentimes, the women report feeling nervous excitement about leaving as a way to continue the process of growing up. Beasley, for one, was even provoked to quit stripping due to the looming of her 30 th birthday.

Cody had gotten her kicks and was ready to move on from what she perceived to be sophomoric pursuits in order to get married, move to the suburbs, and raise a family; all domestic pursuits that stripping had been used to distance her from just a year earlier (Cody, 2006).

For most of the women, the idea of departing the sex industry was both difficult and liberating. Most women danced until they met a certain goal and then departed when the time felt right. However, leaving was rarely as straightforward an act as it was a thought process.

59 Meeting a financial goal, pursuing alternative careers, and growing up and attaining a more acceptable lifestyle are commonly referenced reasons for ceasing to dance; however, the emotions that come along with this cessation are mixed. The decision to leave was often accompanied by excitement and anxiety, fear and desire.

Many of the women left because they wanted something different, they needed some aspect of their lives to change in accordance with how they were feeling inside. The psychological and emotional reasons that the women associate with their departure is important.

For Diablo Cody, entering the sex industry had been an act of rebellion, a break from normalcy. While she was amongst the minority that worked in various sectors of the sex industry, she left when this industry “ceased to be novel” (Cody,

203) to her, and she eventually left out of a desire to pursue something new and exciting. For Cody, after a year of dancing in dive bars and masturbating in front of complete strangers, she had to “do the unimaginable: get a straight job” (Cody, 203).

When reading Cody’s work, it comes as no surprise, really, that she ultimately decides to move on; she openly associates dancing with her youthful lust for adventure, and as her romantic relationship begins to take shape, her plans for the future change. Cody equates departing the industry with a burgeoning maturity and a desire to grow up and move to the suburbs. Towards the end of her story, it is clear that she no longer seeks the thrill that initially drew her to stripping. While she cherishes her experiences working as a dancer and reaped what she desired from them, she eventually burned out, lost interest, and realized that she could have a career in writing, which was her true passion. Cody also knew that stripping was

60 temporary, a brief foray into the wilds of the deviant underground to satisfy her need for something a little crazy, a departure from all that was wholesome. She knew stripping could not last forever, and she never intended it to. It was the combination of these ideas and events that caused Cody to stop dancing (Cody,

2006).

Ruth Fowler shared some commonalities with Cody, though Fowler describes a tension between her feelings and those of her alter-ego saying, “There’s an art to leaving, a perfection, a symmetry. While Mimi squirmed and howled and thrashed away inside me, the exorcism, that ritual purgation of words, was performed almost seamlessly. She left quietly-too quietly, as if one day, she might be back” (Fowler,

264). In this way, Fowler leaves it undecided if she’ll return to stripping, her deviant side drawing her back in. However, she does say that she earned enough money to move on and was presented with the opportunity to write professionally. Fowler has mixed reactions to leaving, and this is evident when her visa arrives, an event that could allow her to depart the industry, but still she remains. Ultimately, she is conflicted about the decision to stop stripping; she laments losing her identity in the deep emotional folds of dancing, but at the end of the day she wants a “normal life”

(Fowler, 262).

Fowler finds comfort in the fact that she has never remained in one place for long and that being unsettled is a familiar experience for her. She knows it’s time to stop dancing and jump on the opportunity to write, saying, “I’m an expert at leaving, a professional at reinvention” (Fowler, 191). Fowler’s decision has her feeling lost and a little tormented though. She feels the need to move on, while simultaneously,

61 some part of her wants to continue stripping and living the lifestyle to which she

had become accustomed.

Vegas also felt conflicted about leaving the industry, but for her, it was

because stripping had created ties to her community and social scene. She actually

became so wrapped up in this way of life that she begins to lose sight of what she

really wanted. Stripping was a job, not a passion. She ultimately leaves because she needs a change of pace, her relationship is crumbling, friends are falling victim to

drug addictions, and the town is simply getting too small to hold her spirit (Vegas,

2009). For Vegas, the emotional toll of leaving is high because she created such strong bonds to the people and places where she worked. Ultimately, however, she concludes, “I was leaving in my prime, but I had no regrets” (Vegas, 191). Vegas felt the need to get out because she acknowledged that she was backsliding into a dangerous and consuming lifestyle that involved a lot of drinking and debauchery, but one that also provided her with an opportunity to get to know herself as an independent young woman. For Vegas, the experience was freeing, but so too was moving on.

In addition to emotional confliction, burning out was a recurring theme, and many of the women simply cited a need to move on to the next endeavor. As trends demonstrate, the decision to leave is rarely simple, but there is a beauty and relief in finally deciding to depart the sex industry. The authors had both positive and negative experiences during their careers, and almost all harbored mixed emotions about moving on. Many felt as if they were leaving a piece of themselves behind, but they also felt empowered by their ability to stop stripping. The emotions that this

62 decision stirred up were a potent combination that often left the women feeling

both satisfied and disappointed. Many felt compelled to leave by the pressing

concerns of adulthood. Some women left because they knew that their time in the

“strippersphere” (Cody, 193) was destined to be short-lived. Still, others left

because they felt the allure of a new calling, or a new way of achieving goals and

pursuing passions; many simply disappear from the industry quietly because they

have earned enough money to try something new.

Factors Directly Affecting Self-Esteem

In this section, I set forth examples of the ways that self-esteem was directly

affected by stripping. Not all experiences occur inside the confines of the work environment, but they affect the women in their lives both inside and outside of

their jobs. Body image and relationship issues are examples of the ways that

negative experiences at work can carry over into the women’s private lives. On the

other hand, if a woman is praised at work for having a great physique, it can make

her more confident off the stage (Eaves, 2002).

The issues that influenced self-esteem most prominently were money and

confirmation or denial of desirability. More specifically, for women such as

Elisabeth Eaves, money dictated self-worth. A good day can send self-esteem

through the roof, while a bad day can send it plummeting. For Burana (2001), there

is a direct causal link, “My self-worth continues to fluctuate based on how much

money I make each night, on how many shifts I am granted per month” (219). The

problem that the women note, is that in this context, one can never be sure of what

kind of day they are going to have. Burana says, “I’m really learning to tether my

63 self-worth to how much I earn. On a good night, I’m a porno superstar. On a bad night, I’m a wretch” (Burana, 215).

Sentiments similar to Burana’s occur throughout the memoirs. Money tends to play a huge role in women’s self-esteem, which can either help or hinder their performance in other ways. If a woman feels great about herself, she exudes more confidence and sex appeal at work, therefore making her a more desired commodity. As Viva Las Vegas says, “Your enjoyment will be infectious, and every dick in the bar will feel he’s just set foot in paradise. Revere the power of positive thinking. It manifests as money” (Vegas, 32). However, the same is true of the opposite. Either way, it’s a slippery slope.

It is empowering to feel wanted; in fact, it is essential to a successful career.

Dancers count on their bodies to make money. Whether or not men respond to the women positively can make a huge difference in how they feel about themselves. If customer responses are negative, these feelings continue to resonate and cause emotional strife. This internal turmoil can be quite a blow to a woman’s self-esteem if she emerges from a shift having made the equivalent of minimum wage. However, the opposite can be true, too; one great night at work can send the women on a self- esteem high for days.

Women’s reactions to their encounters and experiences dictate how they feel; some develop thick skin- a defense mechanism against potentially hurtful customer conduct. Others fall victim to the predatory nature of the game and take bad encounters to heart, thus internalizing the negativity. There are multiple variables that can contribute to the perfect emotional storm; a woman can find

64 dancing to be exactly the self-esteem boost she has been looking for one night, and

the next night a blatant customer rebuff can drive her to think she is ugly, unworthy,

even unlovable. External stressors from other areas of life can also influence how a

woman is affected by experiences at work.

Cody demonstrated how her successes and failures while stripping directly

influenced her self-esteem, while her day job has no such effect. She says, “My

modicum of success at the agency meant nothing to me; it wasn’t an indicator of my

worth as a person. Whereas a single good night of stripping could elevate my sense

of self to Kilimanjaro altitudes. That was real approval, the assurance that Me the

Brand was fit for sale” (Cody, 148). However, she also laments the fact that

customer rejection can drain self-worth. In the club, men can change the existing

power dichotomy by acting in ways that make the women feel undesirable. It’s not

always easy to put on a happy face when things aren’t going well, and Cody says, “I

tried to shrug off the dehumanizing remarks, but girls aren’t made of stone. I

usually came home on Saturdays, fell into a fitful sleep of back-to-back nightmares

and woke up in a blue funk. For the first time, I was losing hit points in the epic

battle to maintain my dignity” (Cody, 167).

While the lows could negatively contribute to the women’s self-esteem, the

highs could be just as powerful. For Vegas, “Stripping was my saviour” (Vegas, 122).

Vegas loved her job and it empowered her; being on stage and playing the part of the minx or the vixen was a boost to her self-esteem. Dancing allowed Vegas to feel like she had the world in her grasp (Vegas, 2009); Eaves, too, writes about the importance of feeling desired and being the center of attention. She chose

65 empowerment as a way to propel herself into success. Sometimes all it took to feel

secure as a stripper was to feel desired, and this was reassurance of her worth as a

dancer and as a woman (Eaves, 2002).

Self-esteem is influenced by more than the amount of money that a woman

takes home or how customers treated her. Dancers also noted fluctuations in their

feelings about themselves based on:

-experiences of power, control, autonomy, and body image -degree to which they felt stigmatized -whether they were objectified at work -loneliness and isolation -use of drugs and alcohol -burnout or exhaustion -degree of emotional investment in stripping

Many women remark that their feelings tend to linger well after they quit dancing

(Cody, 2006). In this sense, Franks speaks about the emotional contradictions that

stripping inflicts,

“I am not proud but I am not necessarily ashamed either. There is a

difference between being embarrassed and ashamed. It’s not completely a

healthy environment but it’s not completely unhealthy in the same sense. I’ll

never be indifferent to it. It evokes too many strong feelings, thoughts, and

memories for too many people to claim indifference. In some ways there is

no easy way to say what I did can ever be completely justified in a sense of

my feeling redeemed. It will linger, my life will always be slightly colored

with hints of the time I was an exotic dancer” (Franks, 81).

These strong feelings are documented in the academic literature as well.

Self-esteem is defined by the highs and lows of the job. Rarely does a woman say

66 that stripping has been wholly good or bad for her mental, physical, and emotional health; it is much more common to find that the women’s self-esteem fluctuates based on their experiences at work. Money and desirability rank amongst the most influential factors in how a woman feels about herself, just as it did in the memoirs.

Additionally, the women in the journals offer other factors that influence their self- esteem in much the same way. Each woman’s circumstances are unique though, so variation is inevitable. While these findings have enough in common to be generalizeable, to say that the effects of stripping are experienced in the same way by all women is to “ignore the multilayered nature of human experience” (Barton,

586).

Conclusion

There are many similarities between the existing academic findings on stripping and my content analysis of memoirs regarding stripping’s effect on self- esteem. To say that stripping adheres to one of the two popular feminist philosophies, the sexual radical/libertarian view, which is also known as “the empowerment paradigm” (Weitzer, 2009) or the radical feminist view, which

Weitzer deems, “the oppression paradigm” (2009), is to ignore the mixed experiences and effects on self-esteem that stripping can provide. In essence, a career in exotic dance can be both empowering and oppressing.

The ways that women experience these effects depend on the eight categories that I created to encompass self-esteem. Saying that women felt only positive or negative impacts of their work neglects the idea that many women’s

67 experiences convey the truthfulness of the polymorphous paradigm. However,

there are some important differences between the existing literature and the

findings in my study as well. I sought to collect and present novel information that

had not been studied before, so it is only sensible that new data emerged as a result.

For example, dancers in the scholarly journals were more likely to say that

their self-esteem was differently affected throughout specific points in their careers.

Positive male attention provided significant boosts in self-worth in the early stages

of their careers, but the women often reported that these feelings eventually

expired. The novelty began to wear off, and it began to take increasingly drastic measures to receive the same high that had once come easily. One academic study

indicates, “that especially when first starting to strip for a living, the positive

attention that they got from customers was ‘a rush’ or ‘almost addictive’” (Wood,

2000: 26). On the flip side though, these women universally stated that the feelings

never lasted, and that occurrences during their next shift were likely to alter their

perceptions of self all over again. In contrast, the memoir authors generally did not

focus on the length of their involvement with stripping as an important

characteristic in influencing their self-esteem; instead, the women emphasized the

power of specific encounters or experiences.

Opinion polls demonstrate that stripping remains a stigmatized career,

however, dancers find that it can be both beneficial and detrimental to their self-

esteem. Rejection and validation occur due to the way women experience their

work. To say that stripping remains either wholly a positive or negative influence

68 in women’s lives is too simplistic and avoids further investigation of the more nuanced facets that affect a dancer’s experience of her work.

I found that a more accurate portrayal of the effects of stripping on self- esteem is reflected by the polymorphous paradigm. This means that dancers’ experiences of their work consists of a combination of beneficial and detrimental attributes. I sought to demonstrate that women can feel both empowered and powerless as a result of stripping. Involvement in this deviant career affects self- esteem, and this demonstrates how dancing can very much influence a woman’s life

outside of work as well. Exotic dance does not simply leave its effects at the door;

the positive and negative aspects infiltrate the women’s lives through the ways that it shapes their self-esteem.

I created eight categories that encompassed the issues affecting dancer’s self-

esteem. As a whole, I found that this selection accounted for a great deal of the

variation along all eight categories. Instead of finding information that would fall

within one of the two feminist perspectives, I found that stripping involves a rich

variety of experiences, as reflected by the polymorphous paradigm. Working as an

exotic dancer left women with very mixed emotions. These emotions were often

swiftly changing, but also emerging gradually as circumstances changed over time.

Each woman’s journey with stripping was her own, and while there were great

similarities in experience, no two women had exactly the same story. This may be

due partially to the various ways in which the women perceived and internalized

their experiences. Individual characteristics certainly played a role in dictating that

what was positive for one woman may be negative for another. This is, in large part,

69 why expecting that dancers’ experiences can be categorized as either empowering

or oppressing is unrealistic. This is a one-sided solution to a multi-faceted issue.

The women in my study were the only people that could truly give shape to

their emotions, and label their experiences as either empowering or

disempowering. Erika Franks explains it best when she said that nobody had the

ability to dictate how she internalized the effects of stripping, she alone was choosing how to feel, and that ability to choose was the most empowering

experience of all (Franks, 2006). For better or worse stripping affects women’s self- esteem in a variety of ways, and this translates to their lives outside of work. For the eleven women that I studied, there were a mix of beneficial and detrimental

affects of stripping on self-esteem, and this demonstrates that the polymorphous

paradigm most accurately reflects the experiences of exotic dancers. Furthermore,

the ways in which women’s self-esteem is altered by stripping stays with them long

after their shifts end and they leave the confines of the club.

Project Limitations:

Just as is true of any study, this project has its limitations. I felt that utilizing

memoirs as my primary data source allowed me to research the effects of stripping

on self-esteem from a new and unique perspective—and one that may have more

influence on popular perceptions of stripping than primary research on the dancers

themselves. However, relying on data provided by these women necessarily

excludes the experiences of dancers who have not written autobiographies, and the

former may not be representative of the latter. Furthermore, all of the women in my

study had been involved in exotic dance for a minimum of a year, which meant that

70 any woman that entered and immediately exited the industry was excluded from

this study. These women’s experiences may be vastly different and are likely

skewed toward the negative end of the spectrum.

Another limitation to my work was that I created and used a set of categories

that is not exhaustive. There are certainly other factors that influence dancers’ experiences of their work that were excluded from this study. Theoretically the ways in which self-esteem could be evaluated are many; however, a more thorough examination is warranted. It would be beneficial to have future researchers create their own measures of self-esteem and cross-examine the methods that I incorporated into my study.

Future Research:

As mentioned above, future research would benefit from considering additional measures for evaluating the effects of stripping on self-esteem. It would also be helpful to broaden the sample. There could be great information brought to light by applying my eight principles to additional memoirs to see if my results are largely generalizable—although the other studies cited here are largely consistent with my findings. Additionally, I think it would be important to incorporate the ways in which the polymorphous paradigm works in conjunction with the ways that women experience their time stripping in order to fully comprehend how women can be both empowered and oppressed by a career in exotic dance.

References:

Barton, Bernadette. (2002). Dancing on the Mobius Strip: challenging the sex war paradigm. Gender & Society , 16, 585-602.

Barton, Bernadette. (2007). Managing the toll of stripping. Journal of Contemporary Ethnography, 36, 571-596.

Beasley, Juliana. Lapdancer . New York: PowerHouse, 2003.

Bradley, Mindy. (2007). Girlfriends, wives, and strippers: managing stigma in exotic dancer romantic relationships. Deviant Behavior , 28, 379-406.

Bradley-Engen, Mindy S. (2009). Naked lives: inside the worlds of exotic dance. Albany, NY: State University of New York Press.

Bradley-Engen, Mindy S., & Ullmer, Jeffery T. (2009). Social worlds of stripping: the processual orders of exotic dance. The Sociological Quarterly, 50, 29-60.

Burana, Lily. Strip City: A Stripper's Farewell Journey across America . New York: Hyperion, 2001.

Cody, Diablo. Candy Girl: A Year in the Life of an Unlikely Stripper . New York, N.Y., U.S.A.: Gotham, 2006.

Deshotels, Tina & Forsyth, Craig, J. (2006). Strategic flirting and the emotional tab of exotic dancing. Deviant Behavior, 27, 223-241.

Diamond. A Stripper's Tail: Confessions of a Las Vegas Stripper . New York: IUniverse, 2004.

Downs, Daniel M., James, Shaan, & Cowan, Gloria. (2006). Body objectification, self- esteem, and relationship satisfaction: a comparison of exotic dancers and college women. Sex Roles, 54, 745-752.

Eaves, Elisabeth. Bare: On Women, Dancing, Sex, and Power . New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 2002.

Fisher, Erica L. Dance Like No One Is Watching: When I Was an Exotic Dancer . New York: IUniverse, 2006.

Fowler, Ruth. Girl, Undressed: On Stripping in New York City . New York: Penguin, 2009.

72 Frank, Katherine and Carnes, Michelle. (2010). “Gender and space in strip clubs.” In R. Weitzer (Ed.), Sex for Sale: Prostitution, Pornography, and the Sex Industry . New York: Routledge.

Jameson, Jenna, and Neil Strauss. How to Make Love like a Porn Star: A Cautionary Tale . New York: HarperCollins, 2004.

Lane, Lacey. Confessions of a Stripper: Tales from the VIP Room . Las Vegas, NV: Huntington, 2004.

Las Vegas, Viva. Magic Gardens (or the Starry-eyed Saviors of the Western Night) . Portland, OR: Dame Rocket, 2009.

Maticka-Tyndale, Eleanor, Lewis, Jacqueline, Clark, Jocalyn P., Zubrick, Jennifer, & Young, Shelley. (1999). Social and cultural vulnerability to sexually transmitted infection: the work of exotic dancers. Canadian Journal of Public Health, 90, 19-22.

Mattson, Heidi. Ivy League Stripper . New York: Arcade Pub., 1995.

Ronai, Carol Rambo and Cross, Rabecca (1998). Dancing with identity: narrative resistance strategies of male and female stripteasers. Deviant Behavior , 19: 2, 99-119

Spivey, Sue, E. (2005). Distancing and solidarity as resistance to sexual objectification in a nude dancing bar. Deviant Behavior, 26, 417-437.

Thompson, William, E., Harred, Jack, L., & Burks, Barbara, E. (2003). Managing the stigma of topless dancing: a decade later. Deviant Behavior, 24, 551-570.

Weitzer, Ronald (2009). Sociology of sex work. The Annual Review of Sociology , 35, 2 13-234.

Weitzer, Ronald John. Sex for Sale: Prostitution, Pornography, and the Sex Industry . New York: Routledge, 2010.

Wesley, Jennifer K. (2003). “Where am I going to stop?”: exotic dancing, fluid body boundaries, and effects on identity. Deviant Behavior , 24:5, 483-503

Wood, Elizabeth Anne (2000). Working in the fantasy factory: the attention hypothesis and the enacting of masculine power in strip clubs. Journal of Contemporary Ethnography, 29, 5-31.