on a second. What’s going on
here?’ That’s when we started BiRDS.”
Adjusting her lace bralet, Rachel tells
me how much she’s looking forward
to tonight. We beam at each other in
giddy anticipation as T.Rex’s Children
Of The Revolution pumps through the
sound system.
Lucia declares, “We want to take
down those patriarchal structures of
exotic dancing. This night’s run by
three working-class queer women,
who are also dancers, and that never
happens.” While there are plenty of
LGBQ strippers in mainstream clubs,
they often feel pressured to hide their
identities. In many venues, dancers
have to pay a “house fee” to work
there, and can end up out of pocket.
But Harpies operates with a very dif-
ferent business model, aiming to put
the power, and those all-important
dollar bills, back in the hands, and
garter belts, of queer strippers. The
house rules state: “We encourage you
to explore your desire, access your joy
and excavate your patriarchal wiring
in a consensual adult space... Oh, anddon’t forget to TIP!”
The tipping dollars look like kinky
Monopoly money, with “UTOPIA OF
HARPIES” printed on them in swirly
script. And, on the subject of cash,
in case you’re curious, a solo dance
will set you back around 20 quid, and
exactly how much a dancer reveals
is up to them, but can be negotiated
beforehand. For a couple’s dance,
you’re looking at roughly £30. In terms
of safety, there’s a strict no-touching-
without-consent policy, and all danc-
ers are trained to keep an eye out for
any funny business.
Like a Las Vegas club, this is a
place to party as well as indulge in a
private dance. The venue is a veritable
theme park of delights. There’s just so
much to take in. It’s sensory overload.
On the ground floor alone, there are
mannequins dressed up like bisexual
burlesque icon Josephine Baker, a
neon sign saying “GIRLS BOYS TOYS”
and wall projections of voluptuous
silhouettes undulating in rainbow
colours. I venture further and find
four more levels of enchantment: abasement disco, a seaside complete
with sand and swings, and a rooftop
jacuzzi. At Harpies, £250 will buy you
half an hour in a hot tub with a strip-
per and a bottle of bubbly.
Lucia, Jeanie and Rachel have
plans to make Harpies even more
tantalising and are hoping to intro-
duce a queer resident dominatrix,
spanking bench, and cage. “We want
to have more fetish, but keep a hint
of humour,” says Lucia. “I think we’re
just gonna balance it by having them
trampled on by a drag queen singing
Shirley Bassey, you know?” There are
ideas for more high-brow acts, too.
Lucia has a friend who’s a double
threat: stripper and classically trained
singer. “We’re gonna work on a num-
ber where he comes down the stairs,
naked and oiled up, singing opera.”
I’m so riveted by our conversa-
tion, I’ve barely noticed the customers
flooding in, but now I take a moment
to look around and marvel at the uber
queer crowd that’s come out to play.
There are groups, couples and folks
on their own, but across the board,>>>46 SEPTEMBER 2019