Zo nes were introduced so that you couldn’ t appro ach a customer if he was standing in a particul ar spot, and he had to have a drink in his hand. More women meant more competition and a shift in their repertoire. The dancers, who are largely categorised self-employed, have to pay a house fee in order to perform.
The number of women dancing in one night, therefore, shot up and working conditions worsened. Clubs closed and the control over the industry fell into the hands of a few surviving establishments. Councils introduced a “nil policy” restricting the number of clubs in an area, and owners had to adhere to new licensing laws. There are many other stories like this."īut little could save them from the consequences of the crackdown. "For example I know a Brazilian girl who had a five year plan to learn English and save enough money to go back to Brazil, buy a house and set up a business in the tourist industry. “All the dancers I’ve ever met over the 20 years I danced for are self possessed, independent and took a logical choice," she says. In her experience, the situation was nowhere near so clear cut. If the argument was that we were objectified women, because men looked at us as sex objects, they forgot that they were also objectifying us by looking at us as victims."ĮLSC member Edie is in her 40s and used to dance in what she described as the bonanza era of strip clubs for a decade. The main voices in the public discussion in defence of the clubs were male industry operators, which didn't help matters as it made us seems like chattel property. "No one appeared interested in listening to our voices and opinions and perhaps consulting dancers themselves about improvements. A lot of the research used by the lobby was spurious, claims about trafficking were contentious," says Stacey. “The campaigns run by women's rights organisations framed us as victims.