What is Sex Work?

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The Full Chuck: “Everything is Pornography to Someone”

Blogger dude and mover/shaker Chuck McCarthy (of Ideas By Chuck and History of Chuck fame) answers a few questions about his nude modeling debut for Pinups Magazine.

Less Stigma, Less Money

When I noticed the new column in my local strip club (and escort ads) rag, Exotic, titled Go-Go Confessional, I was ready for some confessions. (“I stole my go-go rival’s lucky furry legwarmers!” “I totally hooked up with that semi-famous semi-hot singer of the band.” “OMG, I lost my electrical tape.”)

Instead, I was surprised by the amount of stripper-targeted resentment contained in the article.

Let’s face it, strippers come a dime a dozen—especially in this town. There is, however, a sexy breed of naughty performers in need of recognition. This would be the go-go dancer.

Though we don’t take off all our clothes or spread eagle in your face, we still do tricks and specialty moves.

Go-go dancers are also more likely to talk to you on breaks while wringing sweat from their hair. Without the hustle for private dances, the pressure is off and you can really get to know us. I’m not just saying this but we are all nice girls.

Man Calls Cops on Stripper That Won’t Screw Him: Stripping Isn’t Sex Work Lite

(Image by Nicolas Royne,  via Flickr and the Creative Commons)
(Image by Nicolas Royne, via Flickr and the Creative Commons)

One of the brightest spots of sex work activism is when some bright-eyed bushy-tailed sex-worker-to-be finds her way into the space and wants to know the best way to get into our sordid business. “Come, little one! Join me in the fresh hellscape that is the business of selling sexual services,” I declare, fancying my mentorship style half old-school brothel manager chain-smoking Virginia Slims, half Archimedes the uptight but good-hearted owl from Disney’s Sword in the Stone. But one of the darker spots of the same situation is when these apprentices say things like, “I think I could start with something easy like stripping.” Oh, girl. You did not.

It is times like this that I wish I had this story in my back pocket to pull out and give to would-be strippers that think dancing is the Diet Coke of sex work. It is the story of a man with a shit-eating grin and a monumental sense of entitlement calling the police on a stripper who denied him sex in a VIP room in the appropriately named city of Butte, Montana. To recap, this man believed that the denial of sex from a stripper was not only a criminal offense but a criminal offense worth escalating to involvement with law enforcement. The sense of entitlement to sexual services beyond the ones on the official job descriptions are ones to which strippers are subjected regularly. While it is newsworthy because the guy actually called the cops, strippers know that boundary-pushing clients are part and parcel of the sexual and emotional labor of stripping.

I Went To An Actual Vag Pageant

all photos courtesy of Hypnox

I feel nothing but pity for people who don’t “get” Twitter, anyone who has ever rejected me, and most of all, those who missed the 2nd Annual Vagina Beauty Pageant that happened this past week at Club Rouge in Portland, OR. I generally have a strong disdain for gimmicky strip club events and formal exotic dance pageants, but I feel like a child on Boxing Day now. I haven’t been able to get out of bed since realizing that I have to wait an entire year before I get to celebrate again.

I had considered entering when I read that the top vagina gets $500. I wasn’t sure what competing entailed, but felt like I had a solid entry. Plus, I thought maybe I could start charging extra for dances after I flashed customers my blue ribbon* (which I would carry on my person for the rest of my life, ready to show cops who pull me over for speeding, my future husband’s parents, etc). I boasted to a friend that I could win with toilet paper stuck to my junk, which I figure is the vaginal equivalent of doing a one-armed pushup. Ultimately, I was too confused (read: wimpy) to compete, but I did stop by to check it out just for the fresh blog material.

It’s International Sex Workers Day

June 2 marks International Sex Workers Day, commemorating a 1975 sit-in staged by French sex workers and allies at a church in Lyon. How do we celebrate this, exactly, and what can we expect from it? Holidays like this can be a good way to start a conversation or rejuvenate your own commitment to activism, but other than that, they’re essentially another calendar-condoned opportunity to preach to the converted.

This day, and International Sex Workers’ Rights Day (celebrated March 3),  get significantly less attention, at least in the U.S., than even the December 17th International Day to Prevent Violence Against Sex Workers—yet another day largely ignored by anyone outside sex work activist groups and indie media. While these are days for community building and solidarity, they arguably don’t achieve much, if anything, in the way of tangible social or political progress outside our insular communities. The vague notion of “raising awareness” makes its way into every article and event announcement, but it’s quite difficult to measure how much awareness is raised beyond the awareness raisers themselves and their immediate group of allies. More frustrating than a somewhat arbitrary holiday’s lack of power in dictating change is its reminder of how desperately necessary that change really is.