At 21, living in the West End of London during the early noughties there were only a few things that I sought out of life. Like most party girls my age my desires were cash, travel, cocaine, clubbing through the night and sleeping through the day. My name is Sophie, a thirty-something now, the story of my past will shock and titillate. From private jets to Paris, yachts around the Mediterranean and hanging out with badass rappers who had Ferraris in their front lobbies. I’ve seen it all – the good, the bad and the ugly.
It has been an exhilarating ride and what use is a good story if it isn’t told? So I’ve chosen to share some of the crazy and downright outrageous things that happened to me along the way It starts with my first night in the infamous strip club Spearmint Rhino, located in the centre of London. Affectionately known as ‘The Rhino’, the floors were an unmistakable leopard print, there were brass poles and a giant stage. Think so tacky that it was fabulous!
Every night would be packed with a mixture of Essex wide boys (usually stockbrokers), rich Arabs and A to Z list celebrities. So there I was on my first night, about to get all my clothes off for a bunch of randoms I had never met. The rules were that you could give topless dances on the main floor which had leather couches and candlelit tables with two podiums either side. At the back were dancing booths you could take your customers and give a three minute strip tease. There was a no touching rule, although many of the girls got around that. I’ll tell you more about that another time. You would end up fully nude hoping the customer would want more. You would be paid 20 pounds per dance, not bad for three minutes work.
I started early on my first shift, around 4pm and decided that my stage name was going to be Maxine, which made me think of a hot French girl. I had fake tanned, put on a shit load of make-up and chosen a silver glittery showgirl dress as the dress code was Vegas style. Off I went, feeling slightly nervous to approach these guys who were sitting at a table.
Now if you get to ‘sit down’ with customers not only would you normally get plied with champagne but you would also earn 200 pounds for the privilege and normally get away with only topless and maybe one of two dances in the booths. My first day was a success, I earned 600 smackers! I mainly talked, flirted and said what the customer wanted to hear, eventually I popped my dance cherry. After a whisky – or twelve – I gave James The Record Producer my first dance, I was thinking “what the hell!” So that was it the first of many men to see me shake what my momma gave me in exchange for cash. Suprisingly it felt completely normal. I was now off on a provocative, exciting and very naughty journey…
This is the first installment of an ongoing series detailing Sophie’s exploits in the sex industry and her love for all things stylish
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