Tag Archives: real life stripper advice

Stripper to stripper: thoughts on dancing

I ran across a blog where a woman had very confident, self-assured things to say about being a full time dancer, and then later contradicted her own words when she was no longer working in the stripping industry. You can read the original post here, and then view my follow up comment below.

Image“I enjoyed reading this post, and have re-blogged it on my blog, badvixen.wordpress.com. I found that the tone of the original post differed greatly from the follow-up edit that you left “looking back” on your original post. Namely this quote: “My objections aren’t based on a desire to vilify sex workers — but I think they often have issues. It’s sad when people are victimized as children and then go on to keep reliving that trauma as adults. And I think that a lot of women who now work in the sex industry, especially in porn, were victimized as children.”

This quote doesn’t seem to have any supporting evidence to back it, and it would appear that if you really felt that way you would have posted that in the ‘cons’ column of your original post. I have been dancing for several months and did so for a time a couple of years ago as well. I have enjoyed it in it’s entirety for the positive aspects, and have “grinned and beared” the negative aspects, as I consider this a temporary job while I earn my college degree. I was never molested as a child nor did I experience any form of sexual abuse growing up, and I have been friends with strippers who have never experienced such abuse in their young years.

Your comment on your own post seems to be an abstract generalization that I feel you would not have agreed with at the point in your life in which you originally posted this. It appears to be the same type of stereotyping that the fair-weather friends you spoke of would bring up as a generic hack towards you and your job. Perhaps you feel differently about it now that you are not in that job because of some underlying shame or backlash from it? Or perhaps when you were in that position you wouldn’t admit that you felt that way about it? Either way, I don’t know the situation, nor do I judge, but I felt that the non-cohesive nature of the comments were worth mentioning. To an outsider, it reads as if two different women were editing the post.

While there are absolutely negative aspects of being a dancer– just as in any job–, there are a multitude of reasons to dance. In my case it is to make an excessive amount of money while studying to earn a degree which will land me a job where I can utilize my brain, and not my body. I consider my position as a stripper a temporary one, and I will exploit it as long as I can in order to save up for my future and provide myself the flexibility in schedule that I need to achieve my degree and pursue a universally respected profession.


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More power to you.

1213galAs dancers, it’s easy — at times — to feel like we are powerless. Often times I feel like we are donkeys from Disney’s Pinnocchio movie, with the evil stage coach master corralling us and keeping us prisoner to dance and perform on their terms. Let me elaborate:

At my club, I find that leaving for the evening is extremely stressful. When I ask “Mom” or “Dad” to leave for the night, I find it difficult to hear a simple “Yes.” The other night, a Tuesday, I had been there since 6 p.m. and it was after midnight when I asked if I could leave. It is worth noting that at the end of the most recent showtime, I had collected less than $10 — a mere pittance compared to what I am usually tipped during showtime. I asked Mom if I could leave, and she asked what I had made during showtime, and I told her, along with how long I had been there. She said to me, “Well, I feel like there is still money to be made out here. Let’s give it some more time.” I obliged, and I went through the evening for nearly 2 more hours and only had two other private dances and a few dollars in stage tips (it was a very slow night.) Feet aching and back sore, I walked into the dressing room to find Mom. “Can I leave now? I really am not making money out here,” I asked. She took a deep breath and said, in an extremely irritable tone, “Oh shit, I was hoping I would buy more time. Yeah, I guess you can go.” Prompting me to offer an, “I’m sorry, I’m just really tired,” to which I received no response.

Shadowed figure: "Dance for me! You can't go home! DANCE!"

Shadowed figure: “Dance for me! You can’t go home! DANCE!”

I shouldn’t have apologized! She made me feel guilty for wanting to leave! Part of the massive appeal of this job is the fact that we as dancers are free to make our own schedules, to arrive when we feel is best, to make our money, and to leave when we are ready to. Unless there is a predetermined shift or schedule laid out, it is no business of the club owner to dictate when I can and can’t leave. It causes me to feel extremely anxious and panicked when I am told that I am “not allowed” to leave. I am sure there is some deep rooted psychological explanation for my hatred of feeling trapped, but either way, this is America and I should be free to leave a place of business when I please. It makes me feel small and helpless when I am contradicted.

However, it is in these moments that I must remember, I am far from powerless. In fact, the dancers are the ones who hold all the power. Not only are we the ones responsible for the success and vitality of the club in which we work, but we are the sole proprietors of our own self employed business. Men (and women) come to us to shell out their hard earned or easily acquired cash. It is their loneliness, their sexual desires, their hunger for wanting a woman to tell him he is attractive or unique or special that propel them to come to a club and pay for this affirmation. Even the less lonely ones come to a strip club to gaze upon a select group of women for their own enjoyment, or for entertainment, or to find a dirty stripper who is willing to do “extras” for them off the clock (a sickening and grotesque thought, but it does in fact happen. Never with me; not on my life.)

The next time I feel trapped or panicked or in need of escape, I will remind myself of this power I possess, and what I am there for: financial security for myself, for my man, for my education, and for my future. And I will get back up on that stage and dance with every ounce of power that is in me.

-Bad Vixen xoxxxxo

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“What was it you said you do for a living?”

Hello readers. Image

As you may have guessed from my soul-baringly open last post, my job path has shifted from that of the girl behind the desk with an occasional modeling gig to full fledged exotic dancer.

It is a temporary position until I can replace my totaled car and pad my savings account a bit, and an option I turned to for a brief moment in time as a 21 year old looking for an escape. At the time I was in a fractured emotional state and in addition, I found it extremely hard to keep up with my 8 a.m. day job after working well into the night, but now at 23, as I make the difficult decision to go back to school, I have decided to exploit this business venture and milk it for as much money as it is worth while I can.

The shifts at the club are physically exhausting and it is emotionally challenging to talk to dozens of strangers throughout the evening, however, it is very financially rewarding and for that, it is worth the odd schedule and the tension it sometimes creates between my boyfriend and I, or the occasional disapproval of friends.

ImageI have prefaced my future posts with this new bit of information in order to explain the inevitable shift in tone that my blog will take. I will focus on the pros, the cons, the pointers and warnings of being an exotic dancer. Whether you are curious about the inner workings of a strip club, a brand new dancer looking to make some money on the side, or interested in making a career from stripping, I hope that my posts can clue you in to the good, the bad, the ugly and the glamourous points of being a stripper.

Thanks for reading, and enjoy.

-Bad Vixen xx

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Anthem of a Stripper.

Just venting.

-Bad Vixen xx




A slut.

Words used by some to describe others.

She’s a Jezebel.
A bad seed.

A sinner.

Don’t stamp me with your judgmental labels.

Just because a woman chooses to make money off of dancing,

To entice by entertaining,

To utilize her body to support herself,

Does not mean that she holds any less value than another woman.

I mention my profession to others and they shudder.

My mother, my sister, my friends.

They cringe,

Not because of their concern, but because of the very real possibility that their husbands, boyfriends, fathers, sons,

Have the option to gaze upon my nakedness for a price.


The same motivation that causes men to clam up and turn angry,

Taking out their secret fears in the form of aggression and distance.

Why is it that men can visit a “strip club”, and argue that “it’s all for fun” to their nervous and worry-prone wives, yet when the ladies in their life make the choice to dance for a living, their view of strip clubs suddenly turns negative?

Which is it?

A seedy environment, or just for fun?

I have no shame.

I am not a whore, I am a business woman.

Dancing is more about sales, and less about looks.

I am an actress.

An entertainer.

Ask those same men if they’ve ever watched a porno.

The ones who hate that their women dance.

The answer will be yes; it is inevitable.

Tell me something,

Is it true that the justification of watching pornography is that it’s just for fun?

It’s entertainment.

No real harm is done,

And there is no shame in it.

I wholeheartedly agree.


Why should dancing be more offensive than internet porn?
Dancing is not degrading.

Dancing does not involve unspeakable sexual acts.

Dancing does not involve multiple partners,

Or the exchange of bodily fluids,

Or a physical act that involves the physicality and emotions of others.

So why should my dancing be more offensive than your internet habit?

It’s just for fun.

It’s entertainment.

No real harm is done,

And there is no shame in it.

Neither hurts the other.

While each may be uncomfortable for the other party,

(Sure, you don’t want to think about me dancing in front of others,

and sure, I don’t want to think about you jacking off

to two strange women drinking semen on the internet)

but honestly,

if we both think about it rationally,

there is nothing mechanically wrong with either situation.


There is more justification to dancing.

I like to dance.

Always have.

What isn’t appealing about using makeup and tanning beds and lingerie

As tax write-offs?
What isn’t there to like about working out and painting my nails

as part of my job description?

I’m young.

For a brief moment in time,

I am still young.

Another birthday will soon pass,

Then another,

And I’ll be in my mid twenties.

Five more birthdays will pass,

And I’ll be

Thirty years old.

And having babies.

I want to be established by that time.

I want to be driving a nice car by that time.

I want to have a heavily padded savings account.
I can only jump upon this opportunity for a short breath.

Then the opportunity will be gone.

This is not my aspiration.

This is not my career path.

This is not even my dream.

But at the moment,

This is a secure and smart option for me.

I am beautiful.

I am charismatic.

And I can sell.

If I can work three day work weeks,

at 80% less stress than my old job,

and achieve what I want from life in a fraction of the time,

while making multiple times more money than average,

I’m going  to go for it.

I have tried to be honest.

I can’t help but tell you the truth.

I have considered your feelings because I love you.

What about mine?

I’m sorry if I appear selfish,

But I have been struggling to stay afloat since 18 years old.

It’s time I grab my life by the reigns

and do what it takes to make my life what I want it to be.

If it is uncomfortable for a season,

So be it.

I want to provide for myself.

I want to provide for you.

I want the freedom,


I deserve the right–

To fly out to California and see my dad when I want.

To move to Austin and live where my heart desires.

To afford to go out in the evenings with friends,

To not struggle to keep my head above my monthly bills,

And to purchase a reliable car.

I am sorry you disagree.

I hate that something I do—

That anything at all—

makes you distance yourself from me.

You are my soul mate.

I am your fiercest supporter.

And it pains me to hurt you in any capacity.

But I have bent to the will of others for far too long.

My parents,

My overbearing ex boyfriend when I was too young to fight back,

My own perception of who or what I should be,

And now your disapproval of my choice in job.

What is more degrading:

Taking my clothes off

and making hundreds and hundreds of dollars doing what I enjoy?

Or waiting hand and foot on groups of ungrateful people at a restaurant

Making $2 an hour plus tips?

I think the answer is obvious.

I know we may never agree,

But I want to be heard.
I need you to acknowledge that maybe you are hung up on the idea that

“This is bad”

because of your own deep, dark fears,

and maybe it really isn’t all that bad.


I hope you can learn to see my side.

I love my job.

I enjoy every aspect of it,

And if God blessed me with a beautiful body and abundant charisma,

Who am I to let his blessings go to waste?

This is the path my life has taken –

For the moment—

And in the blink of an eye it will be over just as quickly as it started.

I am not afraid of hard work.

I am not afraid to be criticized.

And I am not afraid to do anything—

Everything I need to—

To take my life in the direction it needs to go.

I am the master of my own destiny and it has been far too long since I stood my ground for what I felt was right.
This feels right

Right now.

And I am going to persevere.

I can only hope that with time and prayer

You can change your feelings towards my actions.

And if not,

Then I will pray that we can stay together through this season of strong opposition,

And come out even stronger in the end.

I am not a bad seed,

A Jezebel,

Or a sinner.






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