Pole dance for your dinner

The old yarn of naïve young students being driven into risqué employment by the spectre of student debt is well-worn. Campus newspapers are swollen annually with scandalous tales of exploitation and sleaze in the industries of lap dancing, escorts and pole dancing, and financial pressure is usually deemed culpable for compelling otherwise wholesome youngsters into red light night jobs. It might seem absurd, therefore, that in the context of these stigmatised preconceptions today’s pole dancing industry should include classes such as Anne Goswell’s, where girls – and the occasional boy – of all shapes, sizes, backgrounds and abilities pay good money to learn how to work a pole.

Why a woman would want to learn tricks from another woman to make her feel sexy, Anne argues, is a question of how people assert themselves, and of devolving sexual prowess. “Your body is an asset and a tool and you exploit it to the best of your ability – but then you have to consider whether you are selling your soul.” As Anne explains, the industry is changing. More clubs means that the hierarchies of the old game – stereotypically beautiful girls, rich punters – are diffusing rapidly, a democratisation which is only accelerated by the increasingly widespread use of the internet. Raunch-culture may have made the transition from top shelf to Top of the Pops, but does this mean it’s receiving less criticism?

Perhaps. Certainly Australia’s prestigious Felix Awards in pole dancing, which promote a booming athletic industry as well as a club based one would suggest so. It’s a certainty that the increasing popularity and accessibility of both are contributing factors to the increasing demand for classes like Anne’s. Her own journey from club dancer to teacher is a personal one, but she is openly fascinated by the relationship between exploitation and empowerment. She raises an interesting question: why people ask her to teach them the moves – for fitness, a confidence boost, to impress their partner – when even today, admitting to a past in clubs can equate to “social leprosy”.

Such double standards seem to indicate a society that, though supposedly leaning towards sexual liberalism, is still hungry for filth and quick to judge. Interestingly, Anne implies that the tension between taboo and more sanitised sexuality is integral to people’s reasons for taking classes from her and her protégés. She is vehement that everyone has a different set of boundaries and ideas of what they want to gain, both in her classes and life more broadly. “It’s all about communication really, no matter what industry you are in. If you can’t sell your product you will have to work harder. I can say I’m lucky because I’m in a job I love, but you’d also get that working as a lawyer!”

All the girls I know in Anne’s classes view dancing as a hobby, and a hugely enriching one. A terms worth of lessons is guaranteed to sculpt your abs and ass, but whether your confidence, sexual or otherwise, will receive the same treatment remains a subjective question.