Nancy, not her real name, defies expectations. With a background in all-girls boarding schools, a stint at USC, and a decade spent navigating the world of strip clubs, she reflects on her career in Nude Dance with surprising fondness and zero regrets. “I worked at about 20 clubs across California and New York State,” she recounts, “and I loved it.” Her cheerleader-like energy and approachable demeanor mask a past life spent under the spotlight, a life she describes as a valuable skill and a viable option should she need it. Currently pursuing studies at Santa Barbara City College and working in marketing for a national vegan company, Nancy’s story is far from the typical narrative surrounding nude dance.
Sitting in a local coffee shop, Nancy shared her journey into the world of nude dance, driven by a mix of youthful rebellion and unexpected opportunity. Leaving USC after two years, disillusioned with environmental studies and facing personal tragedy after the sudden death of her boyfriend, Nancy sought a different path. “I hated every second of it at USC,” she admits, acknowledging her parents’ disappointment. The loss of her boyfriend was a pivotal moment. “It was horrible. I really loved him. I was so sad and felt guilt. It was traumatic. That changed me.”
Returning to the East Coast, a chance encounter with a high school friend flaunting cash earned at a strip club opened Nancy’s eyes to an unconventional career. “I would never have considered it before,” she says. Intrigued, she ventured into a club in upstate New York. “It was great. I was 19, topless dancing.” She quickly discovered an unexpected dynamic with customers. “All I had to do was tell people about my life and problems, and they gave me money. Half the time, you’re a therapist.” The financial rewards were immediate and significant. “Oh my God, I could easily make $400 a night for doing nothing except going up onstage,” she marvels, recalling the tips earned from dances and drinks, despite the club itself paying dancers nothing directly.
Upon returning to California, Nancy found a stark contrast in the nude dance scene. “The classy, nice places here are the nude clubs,” she explains, differentiating the West Coast establishments from their East Coast counterparts. She began working at Spearmint Rhino clubs, a well-known chain in the “gentlemen’s club” industry. The financial structure involved paying an $80 nightly fee to dance and splitting lap dance tips with the club. However, the earning potential was substantial. “On good nights, I’d take in $1,800 and bring home about $900 of it.” Navigating the club environment also meant understanding the unspoken rules of tipping staff. “You had to tip the bouncers and other staffers, or they’d make your life miserable or not help you. It was one of the things I hated.”
Despite the financial benefits, Nancy acknowledges the demanding nature of the profession. “It’s exhausting. It drains you. It’s the life of a vampire, working at night. It’s your social life.” Relationships outside the club also proved challenging. She recounts finding boyfriends within the club scene, only to lose them to jealousy stemming from her profession. Among her fellow dancers, she found a diverse group. “Lots of college girls, professionals, accountants, real smart women, and some real dummies.” She observed that many dancers were motivated by financial needs, “the mothers, maybe working to get the kids into a private school or just to buy costly Christmas presents.” However, she also grappled with the ethical ambiguities of the work, witnessing “older men throwing away their Social Security checks” and the regretful expressions of customers spending beyond their means.
Nancy’s time at the Santa Barbara Spearmint Rhino offered a more positive experience. “The people were really nice to work for. It was like a family, and I still have friends there.” After leaving nude dance five years prior to the original article, Nancy became part of a class-action lawsuit against the Spearmint Rhino chain. This legal action aimed to reclassify dancers as employees rather than independent contractors, ensuring minimum wage and the right to keep their tips. The lawsuit resulted in a $12.9 million settlement, which Nancy and other dancers would share. While uncertain about the exact amount she would receive, Nancy doesn’t anticipate becoming wealthy from the settlement. Her story provides a unique perspective on the world of nude dance, revealing both its allure and its challenges through the eyes of someone who found both empowerment and disillusionment in the profession.
