ROXY BOURDILLON GETS HOT UNDER THE COLLAR DISCOVERING
WHAT REALLY GOES DOWN AT THE UK’S FIRST QUEER STRIP CLUB
T
he woman with
the platinum bob
is unzipping her
see-through mini
skirt and ever so
slowly, e-v-e-r
so seductively,
unfastening her
bra. I only met her a few minutes ago,
when she coyly approached me, took
me by the hand, and led me up the
spiral staircase. “I’ve never done this
before,” I told her nervously. “Don’t
worry,” she replied. “You’re fabulous.”
Now she’s writhing against the wall
of our private booth. She’s gyrating
on the pole less that a metre in front
of me. She’s extending one leg up. I
can’t believe how high she can get it.
She’s like a gymnast, a scandalously
saucy, ridiculously raunchy, X-rated
gymnast. Oh Jesus, I think she might
be taking off her G-string. She’s look-
ing at me. I’m looking at her. Then I’m
looking at my girlfriend. Well... this
escalated quickly.
Like many long-term lesbian
couples, our usual idea of a hot date
is binge-watching Gentleman Jack in
our PJs. Yet here we are at the launch
of Harpies, the UK’s first LGBTQI strip
club, and let’s just say, we’re embrac-
ing the carnival spirit. The truth is,
we’d never feel comfortable partak-
ing in a peepshow in a mainstream
strip joint. It’s not the strippers that
are the issue. If anything, I’ve always
been enthralled by their promise of
subversive glamour. As a youngster,
I was obsessed with films like Show-
girls and Coyote Ugly. In the safety of
my bedroom, I tried to emulate the
magic of Jennifer Beals in Flashdance
with the chair and Demi Moore in
Striptease with the baggy shirt. My
favourite song was Tina Turner’s Pri-
vate Dancer. My workout regime was
Carmen Electra’s Fit To Strip DVD. Still
to this day, I have a penchant for the
provocative. I can quote Moulin Rouge
word-for-word and my ultimate style
44 SEPTEMBER 2019
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