A Nation of Sex Workers: An Interview with Tracy Quan

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March 5, 2013

I’ve been reading Tracy Quan since before I was a sex worker, when a prequel to Diary of a Manhattan Call Girl was serialized on Salon.com, and I’ve been chummy with her online since 2003, when she graciously replied to my e-mails. I’ve learned so much from Tracy, her callgirl comedy-of-manners novels, and the quirky takes on sex work, relationships, and public figures in her articles. I imagine many of us have.

One of the first of the sex worker literati, Tracy was also one of the first to successfully transition from out sex worker and sex workers’ rights activist to in-demand freelance writer, modeling a career trajectory that helped bring our voices to the mainstream. Yet, her street cred as part of the sex workers’ rights movement is unimpeachable. After reading about the history of PONY (Prostitutes of New York) collaborating with ACT-UP in the 90s, I asked Tracy to talk about her involvement with PONY’s work during that era, as well as many other things.

You started working quite young, at 14 years old, as a way to gain financial independence from your live-in older boyfriend and your parents. Nowadays, there’s a whole lot of tangled discourse about youth sex workers, from a law in NY state that may be able to retroactively erase youth convictions , while another NY State law diverts those now arrested into “state protection”, to anti-sex work feminists shrieking fallaciously that the average age of entry into prostitution is 13, to the sex workers’ rights movement trying to figure out a way to help homeless queer and trans youth who subsist on survival sex. As a former teenage sex worker, what do you have to say about all this?

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My Sex Work Bucket List: Johanna

By

Johanna

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April 26, 2013

405028_10151302604696145_1748423535_n — Marilyn in a publicity still for “Gentlemen Prefer Blondes” (1953). This is my actual money counting face.

Before I became a hooker I was broke and kind of miserable, and while I’ve been both of those things since then as well, sex work has become a central and fulfilling part of my life. As a certified crazy person, whoring is a viable option for me where other more structured employment isn’t, and the connections it offers me with other sex workers are incredibly enriching. Even when I hate turning tricks it’s hard to imagine what a life without it would look like. All the same, one day I’m bound to move on. These are the things I’d like to squeeze in (hurr hurr) before then.

1) Be really expensive.

I’m not snobby. I’ve done different kinds of sex work, and provided different styles of service for different amounts of money, and I feel fine about all of those. But in New Zealand, where I cut my teeth, even doing “high class” GFE-style escorting meant earning the same amount that I can earn in Australia for a basic no extras session in your average brothel. Before I quit, I’d like to be a bona-fide high-end call girl (in a country where men actually want to spend real money). I want the satisfaction of building my brand, I want the (perceived) glamour, and I want the bragging rights. I’m aware this is more than a little problematic, but I’m okay with that. Also, I really like money.

2) ~~Maintain a genuinely lucrative sugar baby/daddy relationship~~ Convince a man on a sugar dating site to buy me a pug.

I don’t know why I’m obsessed with (the idea of) sugar dating. I have plenty of evidence that escorting works well for me, and plenty of evidence that sugar dating is an infuriating waste of my time, but for some reason it’s the dream that just won’t die.

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Nevada’s Brothels: Legalization Serves The Man

By

Bella Mansfield, Esq.

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April 22, 2014

One of the many questions OkCupid users can answer to determine compatibility with potential mates is “Should prostitution be legal?” The answer options are:

Yes, absolutely
Yes, only if it were regulated
I don’t think so
ABSOLUTELY NOT (emphasis theirs)

In my four years of using the site, I’ve noticed that those who choose answer “2” frequently add something in the comments about regulations being necessary to protect workers from harm. Somewhat less frequently someone comments that regulations protect the health and general well-being of the public. My sample size is, of course, limited, but that thinking isn’t all that different from members of the general public who support legalization. Legalization, the thinking goes, would protect the public from the perceived health risks associated with prostitution by mandating testing, provide states with tax money (which relies on the false assumption that sex workers don’t currently pay taxes) and would control when and where sex work could be done. And, if prostitution was legal, sex workers would be safer because they would feel more comfortable utilizing the criminal legal system.

What they forget is that we have an example of legal prostitution in the United States: regulated, licensed brothels in the state of Nevada. While legalization provides benefits to the state, the workers are still treated as second-class citizens. Nevada has been home to brothels since the late 1800s, and the first licensed brothel opened there in 1971. Currently, there is no statute explicitly stating that prostitution is legal, but under state law, counties in Nevada with populations under 400,000 can allow brothels. These brothels are the only places in the United States where one can engage in legal prostitution, and the people doing this work are governed by three different sets of regulations: state laws, county laws and brothel rules.¹ While the state laws are easy to access and review, county laws are less so, and brothel rules are not available to the public. The small size of the counties and towns that the brothels are in means that rules frequently change depending on the mood of the sheriff. This form of legalization is a combination of modern business law and Wild West attitudes.

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Quote of the Week

By

suzyhooker

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December 4, 2011

We’re engaging in sex work, as a form of economic survival, but also as a form of validation. We have got to address this. We have got to talk about what it’s like getting up in the morning, catching the train or bus to school or work and that ride is tense because you’re the subject of giggles and whispers. […]

Or if you are passable, how you’re still not well received in your community. But then you have a sexual experience with Rahim from next door. He’s telling you you’re good enough and he’ll also pay. Suddenly you’re a commodity. You’re wanted.

Danielle King at Colorlines on being young, black, and trans in Washington DC.

Sleeping Beauty (2011)

By

Charlotte Shane

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May 3, 2012

tumblr_m0hgg1UHtP1qz84edo1_500 — It's merciful to sleep through this, trust me.

Does anyone need a reason to be sexually reckless? I’m not sure. For much of my adult life, I’ve been sexually reckless (or careless, or heedless—take your pick) and I don’t know that a camera following me around would have picked up on any explanations as to why. But we expect more from art than we expect from life, which is why Sleeping Beauty, an Australian film about a young woman who will submit to anything for money, is such a disappointment.

Main character Lucy (Emily Browning) is like a lot of college students: pretty, promiscuous, apathetic, and broke. She holds a variety of odd jobs, including cafe janitor, human guinea pig, and Girl Who Operates A Xerox Machine, yet she never makes enough to pay her rent. Her family situation is uncertain, though we are let in on the existence of an equally broke astrologer mother. We have no indication of what she’s studying in school, what matters to her in life, or who matters to her, except for an alcoholic peer named Birdman whom she brings groceries and pointless chat. She and Birdman go back a few years. We know there’s an unfulfilled promise of a romance between them because Birdman says as much, but that’s about it. When we’re first introduced to him, Lucy casually makes him a bowl of vodka and cereal as they banter with each other in affected tones (“And how are you?” “Oh, I’m very well.”) It’s so dumb.

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