Vermont is for Nudists

Way back in February, the local “cool” newspaper did a feature on pole dancing and burlesque in Vermont. Now, I love living in Vermont – it’s a great place. But a sexy place, it is not. You will not find pole dancing classes here, or burlesque. There is an annual cabaret performance, but that leans heavily towards musical theater and is nothing like the modern burlesque revival.

Vermont is also a weird place, especially about sex.

In most places, that would mean something kinky, but in Vermont it means … well, just weird. Take the local nudity laws: you can be naked most anywhere you want, but what you cannot do, is take your clothes off once you have left your house.

This allows us to have our annual naked bike race.

What Passes for Feminism

The other thing about Vermont, is a tendency towards pseudo-feminist drivel. I actually know a lot about this, since I used to spout plenty of it myself. Pseudo-feminist drivel is a way of sounding very pro-woman, without acknowledging your own biases, and a way of sounding very educated, while actually being extremely insulated. It is a brand of feminism that was very popular in the 1980′s, yet even then was showing a disconnect with reality.

The Conversation

All of the above serves as prelude to the point of this post, which has to do with a conversation I had with the professor quoted at the end of that pole-dance-in-Vermont article.

Now, typically, when two people meet, there is this thing that happens that is known as “dialogue.” Dialogue is when two people share their experiences and perspectives and try to achieve a deeper understanding of the subject at hand.

Conversely, “irritation” is what you get when the same two people meet and one person’s direct experience and knowledge is repeatedly dismissed in favor of the other person’s academic research.

(Are you getting a sense yet of how this conversation went?)

Auditing Classes at F U

For the record, I don’t argue that the sex industry involves a lot of exploitation. And I don’t argue that the exploitation falls disproportionately on low income women of color. But I do take exception to the idea that, as a result, any enjoyment of studying pole dancing “trivializes” the experience of those pole dancing for a living.

Furthermore, it will come as no surprise that spouting off about belly dance and pole when you know nothing about either is not going to endear you to me. Nor is twisting everything I say and turning it into more evidence that your theories are correct.

So, in an attempt to finally purge myself of the frustration ensuing from this highly unpleasant conversation, I now present to you the three take-home messages from my unexpected tutorial in pole dance, belly dance, and the limits of my own feminist understanding.

Perhaps you can help me make sense of it all.

1. Only middle-class strippers manage to own their own pole studio.
Apparently, while it is mainly working class women who strip in the clubs, there are a couple of middle class women who are there, slumming it, and it is these women, and these women alone, who later move on to open their own pole studios. Non-middle class strippers, apparently, have no brains and could not possibly start their own business. They, in fact, never have options of any kind and, I can only presume, eventually die in the streets, in crack-addled delirium.

2. Belly dance is really all about the hootchie-cootchie girls of circus freak shows.
You see, P.T. Barnum’s freak shows brought the idea of belly dance to the United States, and nothing that has happened since then can ever alter or influence in any way the cultural image of belly dancing. A solid century of major cultural transition can never undo the amazing influence of these shows – nothing, NOTHING, can ever change. Oh, not that we want it to change, because we are supportive of the freak show dancers; it’s just that we don’t think they can ever become more than what we have interpreted them to be.

3. A little research into the New York burlesque scene and the history of P.T. Barnum, and you have all you need to be the ultimate source of all feminist wisdom.
It doesn’t matter if you have 20 years experience in the modern American belly dance community – someone who has researched P.T. Barnum will always have more relevant wisdom than you do. And it doesn’t matter how much variety there is in the neo-burlesque revival, a brief period of research with one group of people in one region, will tell you everything you need to know. After all, she did her research in New York, and we all know that that trumps everything.

Final Grade: F

Sadly, it seems I failed to learn the requisite lessons. I still remain convinced that pole dancers and strippers come in more varieties than their stereotypes allow – even when the stereotype is presented with a feminist bent.

I also steadfastly cling to my belief that belly dance has created a niche for itself in the last few decades that comes from the feelings and explorations of the dancers themselves, rather than any lingering social influence from the nineteenth century.

Moreover, I resolutely refuse to accept that anyone whose lifeblood is research is doing well by their chosen field when they repeatedly ignore contradictory information coming from an informed source.

So, tell me, what kind of grade would you have given me?

If you liked this article, you might also like to read Strippers and Pole Dancing and Sensuality, Sexuality, and Stuck-Up Pole Dancers.