As controversial strip club Spearmint Rhino appeals for extended opening hours and the right to allow stag and
hen parties in, Ruth Addicott goes behind the scenes and finds out what it's really like to be a lap dancer in Brighton
As the dressing room door
swings open, I am engulfed in a
cloud of hairspray, hair extensions,
sequins, leopard print and fake
tan, with Donna Summer's Hot
Stuff blasting from the speakers.
I am backstage at Brighton strip
club Spearmint Rhino Rouge and,
having never set foot in a lap-dancing
bar before, it is already proving
an eye-opener.
To my left there's a dancer in
a G-string bending over, scraping
chewing gum off her shoe. To my right,
there's a further eyeful as a dancer
flings off her top and shimmies into
a PVC "police" suit and six-inch heels.
"Frutella?" shouts Cleo, waving
a packet of sweets in front of my
nose. Not knowing where to look, it's
a welcome distraction.
Along with Jayda, Summer and
Robyn, Cleo is one of the lap dancers
who has volunteered to look after me
for the night.
They may be strippers but they
are friendly, straight talking and
surprisingly switched on.
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"It's just like going to the ballet, only
we're naked," says Jayda, reassuringly.
The rule at the club is "evening
gowns" before midnight - after that
they wear anything they want.
Most choosing to wear nothing at
all. Jayda's "gown" consists of a long
piece of leopard-print cloth, with
a gold hoop earring holding it together
over her crotch.
"I made it myself," she says, proudly.
The dancers pay the club £20 a night
and make their income from private
dances and "sit-downs", where men
pay for them to just sit and chat.
"I've never gone home owing,"
says Robyn and everyone nods in
agreement.
The girls take it in turns to dance
on the pole, then walk around the
club, chatting to the customers. If they
haven't persuaded someone to have
a private dance after 15 minutes, they
move on to the next.
Customers range from high-profile
footballers and solicitors to school
teachers and ex-cons (one complaining
he hadn't seen a naked woman in
years). They even have a number
of straight women going in (Jayda's
ability to hang upside down on the pole
with one leg is enough to mesmerise
anyone).
Cleo informs me the club has a strict
"no contact" policy and men have to
keep their hands by their sides during
a dance. Every move is monitored on
CCTV and anyone who tries their luck
is escorted out by the bouncers.
The lines they come across most
nights are "You must think I'm a right
old perv" and "Can I buy you dinner?"
"My favourite, though," says Cleo,
"is Where do you girls hide in the
daytime?' We're like... In Tesco, mate.'
We get the whole spectrum in here.
Some are deluded and some are just
up for a laugh."
As strange as it sounds, a lot of men
just want to talk. Cleo recently spent
45 minutes with a bloke who was
moaning at length about his divorce.
"He thanked me for my time and gave
me £50," she says. "The number of
times I've sat with a guy and he's gone
on and on about his wife."
Jayda agrees. "Some guys are
difficult to dance for because they get
really nervous and like to talk. They
ask silly questions like Where do
your parents live?'. When you're
trying to do a sexy dance, it kind of
puts you off."
Men pay anything from £60 to £1,000
if they want a girl for the evening.
Asked if she has ever gone home
with a grand in her stockings, Summer
says: "Not yet. I'm hoping tonight's
the night."
At this point our photographer turns
up and there is a minor commotion
as the girls realise they are going to
be photographed in their ordinary
clothes. ("I'll go at the back!" "No, let
me, I've got trashy shoes on!" "But
I'm missing a toenail!" "What are the
readers going to think when they see
the state of my jumper?")
As confident as they appear
swanning around in next-to-nothing,
it is refreshing to find they still have
the same hang-ups as anyone else.
"I don't consider myself to have
a stripper's figure," says Cleo. "I
haven't got great boobs, my toenails
are chipped and my thighs wobble
when I spin around the pole.
"What this job has done is make me
feel a thousand times better about
my body. Every single girl in here has
got a different shape and you have
men telling you how perfect you
are every night. I think what they find
sexiest is confidence - seeing a woman
secure in her own skin."
Cleo got into lap-dancing by chance.
She wandered into the club out of
curiosity one night and got talking to
one of the dancers.
In her second year of university in
Brighton, studying criminology and
psychology, she is using it to pay off her
student debts.
She quit her job as a waitress
working 40 hours a week and doubled
her income working just two nights
a week at Spearmint Rhino. She can
make £250 in four nights and has saved
£2,000 in four months.
"I'm not here for the lifestyle. I'm
here for the money," she says. "It
makes life a lot easier and means I can
actually concentrate on studying."
"I'd never spent any time in a club
like this before but there was no
pressure. You could dress as a nun if
you could sell it, the only thing you're
encouraged to do is talk to the
customers. The whole experience
has been really liberating. It's also
addictive," she adds.
Summer, 23 has also been lapdancing
for six months. She tells customers
she's a triplet and half Swedish.
(She's actually from Billingshurst).
"I watched and learnt," she says. "I
went to the club a couple of times with
some male friends, saw the dancers
and thought if they can do it, so can I."
Having previously worked for The
Body Shop and Southern Water, the
main thing she likes are the flexible
hours. "I was bored with being in
a dead-end job doing nine-to-five," she
says. She now works an average of two
to three nights a week - and, if it's sunny,
spends her days lying on the beach.
Although it may sound ideal on the
surface, there are inevitably some
downsides and putting up with sarky
remarks from beered-up blokes when
you're in next-to-nothing is no easy
task. Once they've parted with their
cash to pay for a dance, most men are
pretty upfront and it's not unusual to
be waved on with the knockback:
"No thanks. I'm looking for a blonde
with bigger boobs."
While the girls compete against
each other for private dances, there is
a strong sense of camaraderie when
things get tough.
"If someone is having a bad night,
they go off and have a little moment in
the back - but nine times out of ten
they will be back out there and back on
that stage," says Cleo. "We help each
other and if someone is struggling, we
try and get dances together."
Apparently, some of the worst
comments come from women branding
the dancers "nothing special" when
they walk past.
"You're not born with specific genes
that allow you to get up and do something
like this," remarks Cleo. "Every
woman has her own insecurities and to
take advantage of that is a bit cruel."
The lack of bitchiness backstage is
one of the things which attracted Jayda
to the club. Having had experience of
four other strip bars (Stringfellows
included), she claims it's a lot friendlier
and more relaxed in Brighton.
"The girls hang around like a pack
of wolves in London," she says. "As
soon as someone comes in who looks
as if they've got money, you get
elbowed out of the way."
(If a dancer is chatting to a customer
at Spearmint Rhino, none of the other
girls are allowed to interrupt.)
There are also strict rules with
regards to "extras".
"I'm sure it does go on but I'm 99.9
per cent sure no girls would do it at our
club," says Jayda. "Customers aren't
even allowed to get their phones out."
So how do they respond to the view
held by some that lap-dancing is just
a glorified form of prostitution?
"That's crap," retorts Jayda. "If
you're going to be a prostitute, you'd
be a prostitute, you wouldn't be a lap
dancer. I sunbathe on Brighton beach
in a thong, which is only one step away
from being naked in public - that
doesn't make me a prostitute. Guys
often say, What can you do after?' and
I tell them where to go instantly."
Cleo agrees. "Not every woman
who's a lap dancer wonders what it
would be like to be a prostitute."
So who is exploiting who? "We are
totally exploiting the guys," says
Jayda. "There's a common misconception
lap dancers are pushed into doing
it - but the truth is, we enjoy dancing
and we enjoy the money."
As for the wives and girlfriends who
see them as a potential threat, Cleo
claims if they actually went along and
met the dancers, they would be totally
reassured. "We're not trying to ruin
anyone's life," she says. "We're
providing a service."
All four say they would never go
out with a customer and the job
inevitably makes relationships a lot
more complicated.
Jayda says her main ambition in life
is to settle down. "I just want to be
a housewife," she says. "I want to
find someone to fall in love with and
have babies."
Just as I am about to leave, I'm told
the manager Neil Campbell wants to
see me in his office. Slightly nervous,
(What if they're one short, I think, and
I'm forced to go on in 15 minutes?),
knocking on his big black door, I'm half
expecting to find him submerged in
a Jacuzzi with five of the strippers.
But he's at his desk. There's no hot
tub and no champagne - just a stripper
eating a Chinese takeaway in a bow tie,
bunny ears and suspenders.
Dressed in a pink shirt and pinstripe
suit, Campbell looks more like
a polished version of Phil Mitchell
than Peter Stringfellow. He has
a twinkle in his eye and a look that says
"Don't mess".
He is highly protective of his dancers
and in light of recent controversy, he's
also keen to show he runs a clean club.
You won't find girls firing ping-pong
balls from their privates in here. As he
points out: "I've had parents in before
to see what kind of place this is. If their
daughters are working here, I want to
make sure they are comfortable with it."
As I finally leave the club, a man in
his 60s in a BHS anorak slopes down the
stairs, after a heated debate over prices
at the front desk. As he walks out of the
door, one of the dancers is coming in.
"Oh, leaving already?" she smiles.
"Will you be dancing?" he says.
Caught between the short skirt,
winning smile and gaping hole in his
wallet, it's a no-brainer and I watch as
he makes his way back in.
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