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Being A Fake Sex Worker Surprisingly Not Great For Young Woman’s Writing Career

Remember Jessica Pilot’s “Secrets of a Hipster Hooker” article in Radar a few years ago? There was quite a bit of outrage in the sex worker community over that, in the words of one blogger, “steaming pile of horseshit.” Jenny DeMilo curated quite a few of the reactions in this post.

It’s been nearly three years, and a lot changes for a young woman between 23 and 26. Now it’s time for her entry into the “I’m sorry I wrote something racy” essay canon and Pilot’s got a piece on xojane.com about the repercussions of her public adventure. “I Was A ‘Hipster Hooker’ (And It Sort Of Ruined My Life)” covers the professional and personal tribulations she went through after the publication of her article

Donut Ho: Sex Work In The Strangest Places

By now the New Jersey Donut Ho is national news. How couldn’t she be? She was allegedly turning tricks at a Dunkin’ Donuts. You couldn’t pick a place with more cops if you were working inside an actual police station. To summarize: A woman who worked the late shift at a DD in Rockaway, NJ would leave her post at the drive-though window to entertain customers in their cars. She was arrested (and released) after six weeks of undercover investigation, a typical waste of public resources on pursuing victimless crimes. Well, not victimless; if anyone has standing for damages in this instance, it’s her employer, yeah?

Her choice of venue was unusual and entrepreneurial, though she wasn’t the first person to choose a nontraditional venue for selling sex. Here’s some other stories about similar go-getters in the sex trade.

Leaving Las Vegas with Laurenn McCubbin

A few months ago, I came across an article about Laurenn McCubbin’s  recent art show, which featured a variety of sex worker stilettos, in the University of  Nevada Las Vegas student newspaper. I recognized her name as the former art director of Kitchen Sink magazine, and the illustrator of Rent Girl, Michelle Tea’s 2004 graphic novel/prostitution memoir.

Laurenn and I have both spent more time in Las Vegas than we’d like to: me in strip clubs hustling for money that’s just not happening in my hometown these days, and her finishing a degree at the University of Nevada. I caught up with her days after she completed her MFA as she was plotting her next move to Duke University, where she’ll be getting a second MFA in Documentary and Experimental Art. On a typically nasty hundred-something-degree afternoon, we sat down to talk about her recent projects, Nevada’s hypocritical politics, and post-Vegas plans.

Tits and Sass <3's the Photography of Alicia Vera

"The girls were like, 'Fuck this shit. If these (civilian) girls can walk around like that (for Halloween), I'm going outside!'"

When I think of (non-posed*) strip club photos taken by outsiders—typically aspiring photojournalist types—I tend to cringe. There was the guy who was nice enough, but always just there in the dressing room. I hated that I had to walk to the bathroom to check my tampon string because this man and his giant camera were invading our space, lying in wait for one of the girls (out of those who had consented to being photographed) to do something. I wasn’t surprised to see that all his favorite photos were of the hottest messes smoking or doing lines. Then there are Terry Richardson’s strip club pictures.** They look like souvenirs that a customer using his cell phone on the sly helped himself to in order to snicker with his buddies later.

No Photos, Please!

twitter tiff

Kat and I recently had an exchange on twitter with a strip club customer I’ll call “Jay.” It started after I tweeted, “4 girls in bikinis shooting an ad in front of a strip club when a lady stops her car to take pics of us w/her phone” and “It’s totally inappropriate! You should ALWAYS ask first before taking someone’s photo, especially if it’s a woman in a swimsuit.” Jay didn’t see what the big problem was, so I tried to educate him, but you can only say so much with 140 characters.