Sade is a gorgeous, warm single mother who works as an exotic dancer at the Lollipop Lounge. But for the sake of this piece, let’s call her a stripper.
The other day I was given one of those journalistic assignments from hell. I was asked by the editor to take myself off to a strip joint and have fun. Her reason for wanting to do the story was because this industry is currently under the spotlight because of the 2010 Fifa World Cup and the killing of Lolly Jackson of Teasers fame.
My trepidation was this – I knew it was going to ask more questions of me than any I would pose. And to make it even more difficult I decided to go to the Lollipop Lounge, which is owned by a woman, employs only South Africans and goes out of its way to avoid any of the questionable practices associated with the industry.
Lollipop Lounge
The Lollipop Lounge in Randburg is little different from similar venues. The lighting is low, lots of red; the décor is club with dance floors each centred round a pole; the music pumps, house; alcohol flows; and there are curtained booths off to the side. The effect is somewhere between circus and intimate theatre and bordello and boudoir, which is as it should be because of what it sells – sexual fantasy.
I am met by Gigi, founder and co-owner of the place. She has a degree in drama from a staid Afrikaans university and has recently acquired some celebrity as winner of M-Net’s Survivor reality show. She is friendly, open and astute, which is why she’s so successful. But she’s not the reason for me being here (read a forthcoming profile on her) and she gives me carte blanche to her establishment.
Working Girls
During the course of the Friday afternoon, as the Lollipop Lounge fills up with a mix of men of all races and ages with a smattering of women, I interview
Sade
Sade is a 28-year-old single mother from a mixed race family. Dressed in a very short turquoise mini, she is tall, beautiful and lithe. She is trained in the computer industry, but chose exotic dancing because it allows her more flexibility to be with her two young sons and the take-home pay is better – R15-20 000 per month on average.
The money Sade is left with is after deductions. The women who work in the industry are free agents contracted to clubs, which they pay a ‘rental’. All food and alcohol consumed on the premises are extras.
A Working Day
Sade begins her day like all mothers of young children by seeing to their needs and getting them off to school. At
The interaction with patrons takes a number of forms and this is where income is earned. At one level is a public lap dance lasting a set length of time. Here she’ll strip completely for a customer and sensually writhe on his thigh and lap – no touching by the customer allowed. For more intimacy, without full sex, there are the booths. And at the end of her shift she goes home to be with her boys.
Like with any job there are problems. Most of these occur because of the alcohol fuelled blurring of the lines between sexual fantasy and sexual gratification. Then there are the abusive customers and middle-aged white men who’ve still to deal with deep-seated racism. And, of course, the stigma.
The Stigma of Sex
The stigma of sex is everywhere, even at the Lollipop Lounge. None of the women who work here operate under their real names and few wish to be identified. Yoyo says her conservative parents in
It is the same with the patrons. None were prepared to be interviewed and they all dived for cover the moment my camera came out. The credit card facility, which is the most common form of payment, shows another establishment to cover where customers have spent the day and their money.
What have we become that something as beautiful and natural as sex could be considered illicit or dirty?
Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs
Psychologist Abraham Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs shows how we are motivated by our needs – the most basic of which are physiological. Included here are survival, shelter, food, bodily elimination, sleep and procreation.
In the world we live in today we laud those involved in getting food to our table, putting a roof over our heads, taking away our bodily waste or providing us with the preparations we take for good health. Yet those involved in the sex industry are mostly considered whores and sluts.
The Underbelly of Society
Later that evening I found myself at a dinner party (and no, we did not hide our heads in shame for being fed a meal that created the fantasy of a feast). As so often happens at these Northern Suburbs do’s, one loudmouth was holding forth, believing his opinions trumped all.
In boredom my mind wandered back to the Lollipop Lounge and I was contemplating how vaginas, like penises, come in all shapes and forms. Then I picked up the opinionista say something about the ‘underbelly of society’ and my attention was brought back.
A psychiatrist, sitting opposite him and who had said nothing the entire evening, leant back and smiled, ‘Oh, please don’t tell me we’re going to discuss bankers and Sandton.’
This led to a brief, furious silence, as we all know the convention about spiking the foolishness of opinionated people. It took him a while to regain composure and focus on the psychiatrist, ‘Do you mean to say there’s no seedy aspect to life?’
‘Of course there is,’ smiled the psychiatrist. ‘There’s organised religion, for one.’
The Deadly Sin
It was then that the penny dropped – organised religion had put us in a place where one of our most basic, beautiful needs was sullied. In the Dark Ages we had been led to believe lust was a deadly sin and we’ve never left that time.
Greed was also a deadly sin, but we’ve conveniently got over that. Isn’t it time we got over sex? Isn’t it time we saw Sade as providing an essential service as does the grocer and electrician? Isn’t it time we appreciated the fleeting fantasy she brings to our lives like the host of the evening was doing?
Then, and only then, will she be able to reveal her real name, tell her kids what she does and hold her head high – as she so fully deserves.
