Stripperific: That One Time I Learned How to Pole-Dance

The lovely bride and me
The lovely bride and me

This past weekend I attended a bachelorette party at Vixen Fitness here in Orlando, Florida. Together, we learned an hour of what I can only describe as sexy chair grinding, and another hour of actual pole dancing. It was a pretty fun experience and something I had wanted to do for my own bachelorette party way back in the day (OK, it was only 14 months ago).

The dress code was simple: “wear the shortest shorts you feel comfortable in” – great.

Quick mini- rant: I seriously hate shorts because they are either too baggy and fly up/out/whatever whenever you move to broadcast your underwear OR they are the tight, evil crotch-length versions that make a living riding up into your nether regions, thus forcing you to pick at them the entire time. And the worst part is that nobody knows if you’re just adjusting your shorts or … yeah. I really didn’t like either option so I wore my Turbo Fire shorts, which weren’t too long to inhibit my flesh from sticking to the metal pole, and didn’t make me feel like everyone would be getting a free show – a nice compromise.

So Saturday I woke up and knocked out a 30-minute MMA session, but I didn’t push too hard since I knew I would be in class. I felt pretty decent afterward and arrived at the studio with a double dose of recovery formula waiting in my bag. Class was a little pricey, but the studio is absolutely gorgeous and I’m glad I paid to be there. A few years ago, I completed my PiYo fitness certification in the same place so I was happy to see the decadent and wild environment once again.

I started the event by declaring myself a super awesome stripper name, because honestly, that’s just something I would do. I looked up a few online thanks to a random generator and settled on some for the other ladies – “Dementia T*tties” being the best. I ended up naming myself “Princess Lei-ya,” because obviously Star Wars rules the world. Our instructor, Frankie, was pretty much the definition of awesome. A spunky short girl who unfortunately was losing her voice, had a killer booty, short-shorts to match, and rocked 8-inch stripperific heels with sassy leg warmers. And seriously, her ability to move her body akin to Gumby made me feel like the Tin Man.

We started with an hour of chair dancing, which to the beginner, didn’t seem too bad – until we started. I immediately regretted working out prior, but as the lights came down, the music turned up, and I caught a glimpse of some sexier, stripper version of myself, I was cool with it all. We even learned a cute routine, that of course, I later practiced at home because, hello, those things are good for your arsenal. Instructor Frankie was awesome throughout the session, helping us sweat and feel really good about ourselves. If anything, that class was a full-on confidence booster no matter your skill level with dancing – chairing? No idea.


After a short water break, it was time for the pole.

I have only attempted pole-dancing once before in my life, at a Halloween party back in 2006 wherein I embarrassed myself, but this was the real deal. Again, Frankie rocked as an instructor and sweet baby BBQ ribs, she can work a pole! Seriously, props, girl. We started with the basics of how to actually adhere our already sweaty skin to the shiny metal protruding from floor to the ceiling. We used liquid chalk (think gymnasts before they work) to help our hands, inner thighs, and inner knee areas stick better. It’s a gross process, but it sure does help when you’re clawing up onto the pole, hanging on for dear life while you spin.

I admit that I am pretty proud of myself for being able to not only support myself on the bar (holy moly, that is TOUGH), but I nailed almost all of the spins and transitions! Obviously my pull-up practice and exercise has been paying off! I would post a video, but … no. Anyway, I wish I had worn shoes sexier than my character shoes, but I didn’t need any foot cramps at the end of class.

We learned spins holding the pole between our thighs (owww), spins using the back of our knees, and how to transition down from one spin to a split on the ground. After a while of hoisting yourself up and unnaturally gripping this metal behemoth, it really began to hurt. After we had learned everything, we ended the party with a game, wherein half of us acted like “pimps” and the other half danced on the poles. We even got to throw fake dollar bills at the girls and it was basically the most hysterical thing I’ve witnessed.

The girls
The ladies and my ridiculous tall self.

Yes, I “made it rain.” You would be proud of my pimp skills, guys!

Though I came home with several painful bruises, a few new calluses, and a lot of muscle soreness, the class was such a blast to experience. After I downed my Big Gulp of recovery formula and drove home, the pain started setting in. I felt it everywhere, but my shoulders, forearms, hands, and back ached beyond belief. Taking a hot shower and some pain meds was next to godliness in that moment. The next day, the pain worsened in my arms and shoulders, but an hour-long weightlifting session worked out most of the knotted muscle fibers.

All in all, I had a fantastic time learning this new form of fitness, and I have definitely come away with a new-found respect for strippers. Those girls are seriously athletic, even if they participate in sports wearing studded G-strings. I would love to take another class knowing that not only is it a great workout to break up your routine, but it’s a serious confidence booster to help you realize you have an inner sexuality ready to be unleashed upon the pole.

I dare you to go try it.


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