Inkwell: Authors and Artists

    
Email from Serena Mitchell:

Dear Lily,
 
When I knew I was getting married the next year 1999, I decided to become a
stripper in 1998.

I was a dancer for a brief stint at Raymonds Revue Bar in Soho, London. Two
shows every night with Sundays off. I had terrible blisters on my feet. Have
you ever seen the show there?

I haven't yet read your book, but I'll ask for it for Xmas. I did read the
interesting account of life at The Lusty Lady by Erika Langley.

Serena Mitchell,
Brighton
England
  

    
lily, the book is a delight! as are your readings. at the one in san
francisco, you answered an audience question about favorite songs to dance
to with a short list. would you be willing to recreate it here?
  

    

Hi Serena! Raymonds sounds fun--I've never been to a foreign (to me) strip
club, and I'd love to see it. Little, Brown will be publishing the book in
the UK next spring, so maybe I will check it out then when I'm on the UK
book tour!

Can you tell me a bit about what the show is like? How you make your money?
How the girls interact?
  

    
E-mail from Serena Mitchell:

Lily,
 
Let me tell you about Raymond's Revue Bar. I auditioned in 1998, in
response to an advert in The Stage newspaper. Girls wanted for World
Famous Revue Show in the heart of London West End. £350- £400 per week.
 
Although I'd been a dancer, and used to nudity as a life drawing model,
I'd never danced nude. I was nervous going up for the audition, but
excited and thrilled to get a job in the Exotica 2000 show. My fiancé,
(now my husband )  and even my mum, was totally fine about me doing the
job. I'd arranged to stay with friends in London during the week, and
then get the last train back to Brighton after the Saturday show, then go
up again on Mondays.
 
In 1998 Raymond's was celebrating it's 40th birthday, as it was one of
the original Burlesque shows in London, along with the Windmill round the
corner.  It is also famous for the large neon sign and display covering
the whole of a building above Madame Jo Jo's drag cabaret show.
The theatre still retains the glamour of a previous era, red velvet,
chandeliers, a proper stage and set chororegraphed dances. This appealed
to me as it felt more burlesque with wild costumes, make up and wigs.
 
There were about 12 female dancers and two male dancers. We opened the
show with all of us on stage in a group number, Then followed solos and
duets with girl/ boy girl . In the middle of the show was the famous
chair dance , and then it ended with all the girls coming on stage in a
finale of red satin and lining up in the "bum line" !
( I emailed the Well a photo, did you get it?)
 
The sets were quite wild, with one dancer emerging from a safe to do her
act, another wheeled on  stage sitting astride a big cake, yet another
wielding a huge gun that looked like an anti- aircraft machine. 
 
I had to learn a dominatrix routine wearing knee high 4 inch stiletto
boots, and PVC outfit that came off in stages as I cavorted assertively
with whip and chain on a large red velvet covered bench thing.
 
In between set changes, each dancer would do a "passage" which meant
walking on in a new outfit and state of undress , and titillating the
audience before walking off again.
 
Backstage, the atmosphere amongst dancers was pretty much friendly and
supportive. We shared two grotty dressing rooms, with the boys having
their own, so that they could " prepare" their semi erections in privacy
with a few mags!
A few of the girls wouldn't believe my boobs were all my own, since I had
the biggest, but I was always being shouted at by the owner and
choreographer Gerard Simi to lose weight off my derriere.
 
Because we were all on six month renewable contracts, with everyone
earning the same salary, there wasn't the level of bitchiness or
backstabbing that you hear about in lap-dancing clubs. The dancers came
from a variety of backgrounds, and aged between 18 and 35. I was 29. One
woman had been a top City executive, and fancied a change, another had
danced all over the world, including the Crazy Horse in Paris, another
had started out at 16 as a stripper in Welsh working men's clubs. A lot
of them had day jobs too, since you didn't need to get to the theatre
until 7pm, first show at 8pm, 2nd show at 10pm, and out by 11.45pm.
 
At weekends  we could hear the local born again Christians singing to
save the souls of Soho's nightcreatures, outside our dressing room
windows.
 
I was at Raymond's for a few months, but didn't like living in London,
and wasn't prepared to dance in the new bar at the club which was much
more like lap- dancing which I was more nervous of. Part of me regrets
leaving prematurely, and wish I stayed longer, it really was an
experience I'll never forget, the pain and the pleasure was quite
liberating in many ways.
 
Where I live there is one lap-dancing bar which I auditioned for and got
offered a job when it opened, but turned it down in favour of working at
Raymond's. Working at Raymond's meant  I also got my actors Equity card,
as it counted as professional variety work.
 
I think the demise of burlesque is a real shame, but least the Revue Bar
came closer to that type of show. I haven't been to the club for a couple
of years, and I think it has changed a little, but you definitely must
visit the show if you go to London. You can always check out their
website.
 
Burlesque is continuing in Brighton, with a nightclub event every two
months called VaVaVaVoom. The hostess tops the cabaret with her own
striptease, and each event has a theme which everyone dresses to. They
even took the show over to the New Orleans Burlesque festival this year.
 
British TV Channel Four is currently researching a history of striptease
for a new TV series.  The researchers are looking for ex and current
strippers, so you should get in touch .
 
Another book on the subject that is worth reading is Floozy, written by a
British stripper and performance artist, published by Slab-O-Concrete.
 
I now work for a charity for my bread and butter, but also act and create
my own work. After dancing at Raymond's I did a performance installation
in a Brighton bookshop window, based on a peepshow. It made the traffic
stop!
 
What are the best strip/burlesque shows to see in America?
 
Regards
Serena
 
 Ps This is also my first experience of online discussion!
 
  

    
Lily, before we drift too far afield here, I want to be sure people
know where you'll be doing book signings/readings in the near future.
Can you give us some specifics?
  

    

(zorca) asks the ever-critical *music* question. I'll tell you, music is so
wide-ranging from club to club, that one could talk abou it all day! And my
opinions on the subject are always changing.

typically, in a club where you have the stage to yourself and are allowed to
choose your own music, you do two to three songs--the songs getting slower
each time, 'til your final song is a ballad. in some clubs, it's different,
but this is how I was schooled, and it's my preferred set-up.

I have found that I've done well dancing to something borderline-brutal for
the first song: Kid Rock; Metallica; Public Enemy; Tool. Since I was working
the Barbie thing pretty hard, the contrast of plastic pink happygirl and
dark, forceful, heavy music worked *very* well. I tried not to get too high-
concept about it--just wanted to pick a song a guy could bang his beer glass
to.

Then for the second song, I'd pull out a ballad. Something very sweet and
over-wrought. Those songs that can make you change the station because they
make your molars ache: "Amazed" by Lone Star; "Anytime" by Brian McKnight;
"Take A Bow" by Madonna. The hope then is that I'll transform from Aggro-
Barbie into Dream Date Barbie. It's a sight to see when it works: Men with
their eyes glued to the stage, gazing at you with the twinkly-eyes that
are associated with adolescent girls clutching a copy of Teen Beat in their
hands. It's enough to make you cry, that projection of romance and
infatuation!

I do keep it populist, so it's an odd thing to say that for some reason, I
always got tipped very well on the rare occasion when I would dance to
"Rebel Without a Pause" by Public Enemy! Malcolm XXX.

Hair metal lives on in strip clubs, without a trace of irony. Somewhere out
there right now, a girl in a zebra-print spandex dress is dancing to "Still
of the Night" by White Snake. She's got on black stocking and white pumps
and her hair is teased to rafters. And on the other side of the tip rail, a
guy in an AC/DC t-shirt is emptying his wallet, and singing evey word. Long
may they wave.

(I do believe Whitesnake is one word, correct?)
  

    

My upcoming appearances:

This Friday at the Borders in Philadelphia, 7:30 pm. I'll be on NPR that
morning, with Marty Moss Cohane, for an hour-long interview. As a longtime
NPR fetishist, I look forward to it!

I will also be reading with Ted Conover, author of "New Jack: Guarding Sing
Sing" at the Miami Book Fair, in mid-November. Details TK.
  

    
Lily,
I'm loving the interview. How long did the book take from inception to
completion? Or more to the point,  from inception to publishers
contract to publication?
  

    
I told my husband that the author of Strip City danced to Metallica, and he
was ready to open a club himself just to hire you to do that for him!  In a
nice way, not a skeevy way.
  

    

I just had this weird fantasy of a strip club catering to classical music
fans.  Wonder what the music selections might be.

If you had a daughter, how would you feel about her stripping?
  

    
Hi Lily,  You said,

> It's a sight to see when it works: Men with their eyes glued to the
> stage, gazing at you with the twinkly-eyes that are associated with
> adolescent girls clutching a copy of Teen Beat in their hands. It's
> enough to make you cry, that projection of romance and infatuation!

I wonder if you could talk more about how much respect and how much
irony goes into that statement, because it's easy for me to imagine the
extremes of both, but not the middle-way mixture that is probably
closer to reality.  (That is, I can imagine a perceptive dancer guiding
men toward something good, sweet, innocent, and fundamentally
respectful in themselves, and I can imagine a cynical dancer skillfully
manipulating depraved men in further exercise of their depravity.)
  

    

Lily,
 I'm loving the interview. How long did the book take from inception to
 completion? Or more to the point,  from inception to publishers
 contract to publication?


Thank you! I'm having fun--even when you're done with your book, there's
always more to say.

From first thought to pub date, I'd say we're looking at four years or so. I
started doing the research in 1997, and sold the proposal in 1998. From
there, the research took off, and I spent most of 1999 and part of 2000
writing and cogitating and traveling. I did change publishers after the
first draft was done, and TALK/Miramax picked it up, more or less 'as is'
(conceptually, anyway) in Fall of 2000. The editors who worked on it,
Jonathan Burnham and Farley Chase, really understood what I was after, and
edited me quickly and judiciously and we sent it to print earlier this year.


Of course, now that it's out, I want it *back* so I can futz with it more,
but that, I guess, is why they say, "books are never finished. they're
abandoned." Or something akin to that.
  

    
Lily, I know from STRIP CITY that you were always a reader--launching
into Hesse, Salinger and Plath when you were 14, an age when you didn't
want to "do anything but listen to the radio, go to the city and
read."
I'm curious as to who inspired you when you first began writing
magazine articles.  Where there specific non-fiction writers who
inspired the terrific energy I always find in your writing?
  

    

Lendie asks the smart, provocative, "If you had a daughter, how would you
feel about her stripping?"

Assuming that she approached me ahead of time with the idea, I'd do all that
I could do find out why she wanted to strip, and do my best to dissuade her.
Occasionally, a young woman, an aquaintence or friend of a friend, will ask
me how to get into the business, and I ask her why she wants to strip. it's
always because she wants to make fast money, usually in pursuit of a larger
goal. I tell her, "Look, stripping may make you fast money, but the cost to
you might not be worth it. Why don't you take the energy you're using to
think about screwing up the nerve to audition at a strip club and apply it
towards your dream instead? Get a more typical day job and see how it goes."

I've never once had a woman come back to me in six months and ask again how
to get into stripping. Maybe they find another entree to the business, I
don't know. But I do know I don't feel comfortable setting a woman down that
path. Unless she's interested in stripping to get away from a more
dangerous, or otherwise risky, form of adult entertainment, like video or
escort work.

Now, the same would be true if it were my own child. I know full-well the
potential pitfalls of this job, and I would not want my daughter, or son, to
be at risk.

Let's assume, though, that my daughter or son had *already started* and came
out it to me while they were still doing it. First, I'd say, "Geez, kid!
Didn't my book act as enough of a cautionary tale?!" Second, I'd respect
them as an adult by engaging them as one. I ask, "How do you feel about what
you're doing?" If they said they felt okay about it, then I'd ask, "If you
know that I thought it was a bad idea, which I do, are you going to keep
doing it anyway?" If they say they'd consider not doing it anymore, based on
the concerns I'd voice, then I'd help them transition out. It is a very hard
business for some people to leave--the lifestyle and the money can becoem
addictive, and the prospect of entering the straight world (school, job,
whatever) can seem daunting. I'd give them guidance without rebuke or harsh
judgment.

If the kid said, "Hey, I'm going to do this anyway, and I want you to deal
with my decision," I'd say, "Fine. But you've just met your new financial
advisor. If you really are going to keep stripping, despite my hard-earned,
well-deserved reservations about the job, then by God, you're going to be
responsible. Now sit down and listen to my stern lecture about IRAs, money
markets, and mutual funds. By the way, you need to be aware that no bank
will ever give you a home loan if you list your occupation as 'stripper.'"

Then, I'd get after her or him to plan for the next stage of their life. I
would not accept one lavish gift from them. I'd tell them, "The best gift
you can give me is the satisfaction that you're really doing what you ant to
do with your life. If the thousands of other strippers I've met are any
indication, I'd venture that stripping is not your life's dream, so get
after it, kiddo."
  

    

(please pardon my typos)
  

    


Hi Lily,  You said,

 > It's a sight to see when it works: Men with their eyes glued to the
 > stage, gazing at you with the twinkly-eyes that are associated with
 > adolescent girls clutching a copy of Teen Beat in their hands. It's
 > enough to make you cry, that projection of romance and infatuation!

 I wonder if you could talk more about how much respect and how much
 irony goes into that statement, because it's easy for me to imagine the
 extremes of both, but not the middle-way mixture that is probably
 closer to reality.  (That is, I can imagine a perceptive dancer guiding
 men toward something good, sweet, innocent, and fundamentally
 respectful in themselves, and I can imagine a cynical dancer skillfully
 manipulating depraved men in further exercise of their depravity.)

******

There's not a hint of irony in that statement, actually. There's a whole
range of dynamics at play in a strip club. Sometimes the interplay between
dancer and customer can be very straightforward--a tip for me, a dance for
you. It's basic, and civil, and clean. Other times, it can be so savage as
to resemble a death-battle: "Hey, will you f*ck me for eight hundred
dollars, you 'ho?" "No, but I'll play the edge of your crass, butt-headed
presumption that I would until you leave here broke, you misogynist cretin!"

Other times, though, in a rarefied space between those extremes of clean,
honest taffy-pull and "war between the sexes" death-battle a moment of
enchantment will shine through. You can never predict it, but I love to see
it.


I imagine some dancers will manipulate an earnest customer's affection,
leading him to think he's got a special hold on her heart. I can't bring
myself to do that, however (I have had some ugly death-battle moments,
though, but that's a different customer relationship context).

Somehow, the idea that romance, or a guy at least being romantically touched
by a song, a performance, can sometimes show up such an artificial
environment touches me. It's like a flower growing through a crack in the
pavement: Wow, how did *that* happen? When you consider how mundane,
workmanlike, and cynical the job can be, it is a wonder to behold.

Does it happen every night? No. Did I notice it every time it happened?
Probably not, alas. But was I moved when I did chance upon it? Yes.
  

    

(caseyell) asks:

I'm curious as to who inspired you when you first began writing
 magazine articles.  Where there specific non-fiction writers who
 inspired the terrific energy I always find in your writing?

***************

Thank you for the compliment! A host of writers inspired me. First is the
Chick Posse--so many great female non-fiction writers: Mim Udovitch;
Elizabeth Gilbert; Susan Orlean; Cynthia Heimel. Each has her own particular
strength, but what courses through their writing is a sharp critical faculty
and observer's eye, more often than not leavened with a huge dash of heart.

You don't always have to like your subject, or even endorse it, but I do
appreciate a writer whose enthusiasm for exploring the subject shines
through. There's a palpable zest for exploration, craft, and expression that
comes though in all these writers, though they each exhibit their own
personal style.

I'm a late convert to James Wolcott--I only started reading him when he
started at Vanity Fair, but as I come across his older stuff, I like that,
too. He is pointy, but rarely undeservedly savage. It's a tough line to
walk, that line between astute, pop culture-steeped critic, and snarky, pop-
ephemera-savvy dickweed, and he knows how to make the smart step.

A lot of people place a higher moral, artistic, or aesthetic value on long-
form non-fiction and novels, but I think a good magazine piece is a wonder
unto itself. I tend to watch the nominations for the National Magazine
Awards more closely than I do the National Book Award list.

I could go on for days about non-fiction. I do like fiction, too, and the
span of appreciation is wide. I like the mind-crippling metaphors of Annie
Proulx (Dear "Reader's Manifesto" Guy: Shut UP!) and the austere, yarn-
spinning style of Larry McMurtry. It is a source of great shame for me that
I can't seem to sink into Cormac McCarthy. I try. I really do. Can't seem to
chip my way in.


I still have a deep, abiding affection for "The Bell Jar." The 'fusty,
peanut-smelling mouth' of the subway during her summer in New York; the way
the "blood gathered darkly at the lip of the wound, like fruit" when she cut
her leg the summer she returned home; the sound of the avocados in a
suitcase on a train's luggage rack above her head, rolling from one side of
the suitcase to the other "with a special little thunder all their own."

(I recite these out of memory. They may be slightly off). Such love.
  

    
Since TALK/Miramax was involved with the publication of STRIP CITY<
can we hope for a feature film?
  

    


Lily, do you think men who strip go in with the same motivation as women, or
something far different?
  

    
Lily,
Thank you for your wonderful response in <41>.  I am also moved by the
full-on engaged respect you convey in <39>, about the advice you would
give your daughter.  Thanks!
  

    

tftp
  

    <scribbled by cynthiar Thu 1 Nov 01 04:36>
  

    

Casey asks about film. I still retain the film rights, so there's no big
Hollywood plan afoot.

Judith, I wish I could speak with greater authority about the reasons why
men strip as opposed to women! Maybe we just need a male stripper to happen
by...

Thanks for the update, Cynthia. Of course, I'm anxious to see the story. We
covered a lot of controversial material, including the Wacky Personal Hijinx
of Ms. Lily B. from *way* back (early 1990s, when perversion and politics
had a riotous overlap), so I'm curious as to how you handled it. You're a
San Fran girl, tho, so I'm sure you knew just how to contextualize it all...

Cynthia tried her damndest to help me with an image upgrade. I got a
wonderful make-up job at Saks, by Cynthia's arrangement. I paid a king's
ransom for a sackful of products, but you really do get what you pay for.

IMAGE, the every-annoying IMAGE thing is a part of every author's life these
days. It
s been very amusing (and sometimes not) to 'face the public' as a former
dancer. For the most part, I'm very low-key. I didn't want a huge, tarty
picture of me grinning out from my book cover, or to end up on Dateline
whirling around a stage in a thong and heels. The publishers understood that
immediately, and have responded in kind. But every so often I'll show up for
a shoot where the stylist has laid out the priciest, most succulently
gorgeous g-strings, rhinestones, and heels, I have to gently decline without
offending.

They've all been cool, but there's definitely a little pout when they
realize that I prefer to look like a reject from a Seven Sisters poetry
program than glam it up. Their petulant expression says it all: "I thought I
was gonna get to play Dress-Up Barbie!"

What can you do? If you want the focus to be on the writing, you need to
keep the Cheesecake Factor to a minimum.
  

    

Now I want to know what books you would write under your Cheesecake
pseudonym of Barbie Faust. :)
  

    
And on a more serious note -- and repressing mental images of what
"gorgeous g-strings" might look like--I'm curious as to which section
of the book was most difficult to write.