The Progressive Series, Part II by Vivienne Palmer

Have you been following guest blogger Vivienne's journey through The Progressive Series/Level 2? Last blog she posted about her experiences in her first few classes. Part II brings you up to date!

Day Eight: Fifth Class of Level 1-2 Progressive Series
Now that the showcase has come and gone there aren’t any Happy Hour Open Pole sessions on the calendar. Bummer. I appreciated the unstructured time to practice and this new development means I’m gonna have to take a closer look at the schedule. As you can probably tell, I am definitely working towards and end result and one class a week won’t get me there. Add to that a rather alarming anecdote from a fellow classmate about a rapidly progressing cohort:

“Did you know how much so and so goes to class? Sometimes three times a day!”

Excuse me? Three times a day?!? I better step up my game.

But back to the class. It was on the day the BIG STORM was to hit, the one that the networks kept yapping about like it was going to be Armageddon. As if we don’t live in COLORADO where it has been known to snow from time to time. Thursday rolled around and it seriously wasn’t looking like it was going to snow, but you couldn’t turn the radio or T.V. on without someone warning you to batten down the hatches. A few flakes started to sift down when it was time for me to head out around 6:30pm and it looked like something might happen, but I was still skeptical.

The upshot of this was that it gave the whole day that Will It or Won’t It feel, where at any moment the whole city (and class) was going to get shut down, and it might be nice just to stay in and relax on the couch in front of the fire, so maybe it would be okay if class was canceled, so I kind of had one foot in and one foot out the door. It’s not the greatest state of mind when resolve is key.

Class started on time but I wasn’t entirely all there. In an inverse of previous classes when an hour seemed to be too short, it seemed interminable since my ass was already on the couch. Once Sasha got us going with the warm-up and stretching I got my head back in the game and the time flew by, especially when we learned the pinwheel spin I had been admiring, and when we learned how to link a forward spin with a backwards spin. There were some requests to learn certain moves – as seen in the showcase which I must go to next time – which sounded to me like, “You take your leg and put it waaay up here and then your hand goes there and then you kind of go like this and it’s really awesome!” Sasha looked as perplexed as I felt and said, “You’ll learn all that, but not today. Today we’ll be working on …”

Me? I’m okay with the old step-by-step. Truth be told, I’m wondering if I should do the beginners series again, just to really nail all the basics. Either that or I’m going to have to find a place in my house to put a pole.

Day Nine: Sixth Class of Level 1-2 Progressive Series
This was not one of my better days, the problem being entirely my own. A blow-up with a close friend has got me stewing in my own juices and thinking about stuff that has nothing to do with spins and climbs. Sasha also approached me about doing the instructor training. I have to say that I am so incredibly flattered, yet a bit incredulous. Clearly she sees potential in me and I trust her instincts. However, it does make me turn a critical eye to just about everything I do.

My work in this class took on a whole new level of gravitas as with each move I asked myself, “How can I teach this if I can’t do it?” Of course I have a long road ahead of me before I could ever teach, a 20 hour teacher training, probably a repeat of the 1-2 Progressive Series while doing the Level 3 Series simultaneously (provided a get my yellow garter), sneaking in to practice once or twice a week... Actually, when I think about it that way, I see some possibility, but you get the picture. It was a challenging day on lots of levels.

The big news is that I had an important breakthrough. I noticed that all of the sudden I was naturally placing my lower hand further down on the pole and pushing away with it, rather than having it up high and hanging on it. While this is a small thing, I see it as the key to looking like I are floating around the pole rather than flinging myself around it. This small victory did a lot of buoy my spirits and keeps me thinking forward and up.

Day Ten: Seventh Class of Level 1-2 Progressive Series
Today was the make-up/review day before we attempt to test out of Level 2 next week. Something really profound has happened to the class since last week. Until tonight I can’t say that I knew any of my fellow students. I know a few names and everyone is familiar but aside from random tidbits of information thrown out here and there (Eliza is a teacher and has a child, Desi works for Spirals, Neka is married, etc.) I know next to nothing about anyone. My work feels largely solitary and when we freestyle, there is a sense that everyone goes inward and deep, which is actually quite remarkable, yet I don’t make a whole lot of eye contact or small-talk.

Increasingly, though, people are showing up 15-30 minutes prior to class to do a little warming up and stretching on their own. In this time there is a little more conversation and connection. Today the subject is the Level 3 Progressive Series and who has signed up. Suddenly there is a sense that we are in this together. “What? You haven’t signed up? Who here is in? C’mon, everyone else is doing it!” There is a camaraderie that we didn’t have before and the desire to stay together in this journey.

Since most of us were there early and already warm, Sasha got us moving along, doing drills on the poles and across the floor, which is a first for us. As we waited our turn in line, there was a little talk. Stacy talked about her experience with the teacher training and encouraged me to do it. Alicia cracked everyone up by drawing an imaginary circle around her and calling it her “Sexy Space”. We commented on each other’s progress and encouraging each other. It was like a wall came down, right as we were in the home stretch.

We went over all the spins, climbs and holds and I noticed how much my stamina has increased. I can climb all the way to the ceiling on both sides and the tops of my feet don’t hurt quite as badly as before. Some of Sasha’s technique is clicking with me and I can see a great difference. I can’t believe that the instruction portion of this series is over and next week will be the big test. I feel confident about next week and unconcerned about whether I pass or not. I know that Sasha wants us all to succeed and will provide us with the tools we need to do so. I’ve already signed up for the next series and am excited to keep going, especially if there are some friendly faces with me.

Day Ten: Level 1-2 Progressive Series: TEST DAY!
I’m in a room with a handful of ladies whom I have just started to bond with and we are at the end of our Level 1-2 Progressive Series. It’s test day. When we started this class about two months ago we could barely hold onto the pole and lift up our feet, and forget about climbing the pole. What’s most striking is how far we have all come.

The only goal for today’s session is to go down the list of must-know moves: spins, holds, climbs, booty bumps and stripper shuffles. I’m less nervous about this than I thought I would be, in part because Sasha is so completely supportive of everyone. She’s not here to fail people or intimidate, she’s really here to help and teach us. So after a quick warm-up and stretch we take our places at the poles and she pulls out a list and starts calling out moves for us to do. Since we are all going at the same time, she has us do each move several times on each side so she can get a good look at everyone. She’s not concerned whether we know the technical name of the move and we often turn to Stacy (a newly minted instructor) to demonstrate when we are confused.

The hour goes by quickly as everyone demonstrates a working knowledge of the mechanics of the move, if not complete mastery. What I like the most about taking classes at Spirals is the sense that this is a journey. There isn’t the pressure to be perfect or perform in class. It’s about learning the technique and getting to the point when all the pieces line up and fall into place. I hear the word “breakthrough” bandied around often and that’s because it really is the best way to describe the process. You observe, you attempt, you get instruction, and you try and try and try then suddenly your hand just goes to the right place, or your leg is able to find that mysterious arc that it was missing and BANG, you’ve got it.

For a test day there was so much support and encouragement from everyone in the room. No one had to fail for someone else to win, quite the contrary, we wanted everyone to pass so they could come along for the next step in the journey. At the end of the hour we all sported our yellow garters for a group photo. Some signed up for the next session while others lamented not being able to swing it. I can’t believe that two months have gone by so quickly and that it’s over. Fortunately the Progressive Series: Level Three starts next week. Same time, same place.

A Look at Progressive Series/Level 2 from Vivienne Palmer

The Progressive Series/Level 2 takes you through all the spins, tricks and transitions in our Level 2 curriculum, methodically and systematically. It's a new program that Boulder Spirals is very proud to offer. Guest blogger, Vivienne Palmer, writes about her experience from her first class in Level 1 to her fourth class (out of seven) of the Progressive Series/Level 2 in her essay "Spiraling Out of Control". To sign up for our upcoming Progressive Series/Level 2, February 11-March 31, 2012 at 11:30am, please CLICK or call Boulder Spirals at 720-989-1838.



 

SPIRALING OUT OF CONTROL

By Vivienne Palmer

Pole dancing, or Pole Fitness, has been on my mind since a friend raved about the amazing transformations she saw, in physique, self-esteem and confidence, from an S-Factor Class she observed in L.A. I’m athletic and while I’m happy with my looks, I’m bored of the gym routine I dutifully bang out six days a week. Like almost every woman I know, there’s something fascinating about the prospect of learning how to pole dance, maybe because it’s a little taboo. But then there’s this other part that is reticent to try because, to quote Ryan Gosling’s character from Crazy, Stupid Love, “The war between the sexes is over. We won the second women started doing pole dancing for exercise.”

I’m not one to admit defeat but I’m also not one to give up something before I even try it.

I’ve never been a shrinking violet and I’m usually the first to wear something revealing if I think I can get away with it, so I’m not daunted by the exhibitionism of pole dancing, or the performance aspect. However, it still took me about seven years to finally get around to taking my first class. Having two kids has a way of setting one’s plans back.

Day One: Beginning Pole

My first experience at Boulder Spirals was a beginning level class that consisted of me and a couple of women redeeming a Groupon. Always one for research, I Googled my instructor ahead of time and saw some images of Sasha Viers, owner of Boulder Spirals and my soon-to-be instructor. I have to be inspired by my instructors and Sasha looked like she could inspire me. Armed with a preconception of who my instructor would be (young, childless, most likely a former stripper – clearly I am as guilty of stereotyping as the next persona), I showed up in the requisite tank top and shorts but felt overdressed and bloated standing next to Sasha. Girl owns it.

Sasha quickly introduced herself started out with a warm-up routine of arm circles, isolations, core-strengthening moves and modified yoga positions. I had my eye on the clock and noted with some dismay that this was taking up a good deal of allotted one-hour class. We got down to business with a body wave which felt awkward but came together when Sasha put on an old-school Massive Attack song which gave me the sense that musically speaking, we could get along.

We spent a solid five minutes body waving from crouching to standing and working up a good deal of effort in the meantime. Sasha said, “This is way more fun than crunches” and I had to agree. Eager to get my feet off the ground, I was psyched to try our first trick: grip the pole one hand above the other at eye level. Hold on tight and lift up one leg, then the other, now put your feet down. Sounds easy right? Only one word was going through my head: RESPECT.  This simple move, a galaxy away from the mind-boggling tricks I watched on Youtube, was at the outer edge of my ability and I’m no slouch.

Day Two: First Class of Level 1-2 Progressive Series

I brought a friend to the first day of Level 1-2 Progressive Series. The class was overfull (my friend didn’t register ahead of time, her bad) and had to share a pole with me. After the standard warm-up, Sasha re-visited the Booty Bump and the Speed Bump I learned previously, got our feet off the ground with a simple fireman’s hold, and taught us the Girl-On-Top spin and the Stripper’s Strut. To leave us with something to look forward to, Sasha demonstrated a Front Hook spin and walked us through it.

First, I have to say that watching Sasha move is like watching a bird catching an updraft, or maybe a minnow gliding in a lazy current. She’s lithe and incredibly slender. If not for her sensuous movement, she is almost childlike. Her spins float and her hands barely seem to grip the pole. She is the picture of effortless grace. That said, I got one doozy of a bruise on my shin from violently rushing the pole in an attempt to get some momentum up.

The next day I deflected questions about said bruise by claiming my husband kicked me in the shins. I want to get good at the pole before people start asking questions and demanding a demonstration. Meanwhile I discovered that my hooping instructor is a mutual friend with Sasha and I learned that she has a small child. I am not sure whether to be encouraged or dispirited to know she came to this with the same challenges as me. On the one hand, if she can do it, so can I. On the other hand, I don’t have an excuse if I can’t hack it. Driven much? You bet.

Day Three: Second Class of Level 1-2 Progressive Series

My friend dropped out due to time constraints but I stayed on, resolved to give it the old college try. I am determined by nature and aware of how learning curves work. I figured if I could apply consistent effort, I might not embarrass myself for much longer. It was encouraging to see familiar faces yet I still felt self-conscious, which isn’t a normal feeling for me. I am known for my self-deprecating humor, for being the first person on the dance floor and the class-clown.

This class consisted of learning three basic variations of the Front Hook spin. Then we learned how to climb the pole, which got me exactly two feet off the ground and in a world of hurt. Throughout the class Sasha worked from student to student, spotting and giving advice on technique. I pried a little into Sasha’s background and was a tad disappointed (and chastened) to learn that Sasha was not a former stripper (because I love a sordid past), but had a background in modern dance, gyrotonics and yoga. The truth be told, it shows in her teaching style. She is methodical and balanced, with a strong emphasis on form, safety and technique. There is nothing informal about her approach. I’m not exactly young so I have a healthy fear of injury and will go to great lengths to prevent it. I’m glad that I have an instructor who feels the same way.

My original dismay at the amount of time spent stretching and strengthening was replaced with gratitude. Sasha clearly understands that people new to pole dancing have to build strength and stamina. She has us practice moves but not to the point of complete frustration-plus-fatigue fueled failure. This is very important because it kept me from flaming out too early.

Day Four: Open Pole

I dropped in on an open-pole session that consisted of lots of stretching and watching more accomplished performers practice for the upcoming showcase. Sasha kindly walked me through pole climbing and spins, which I worked on until my body cried “Uncle!” I got in about 15 minutes of actual practice which didn’t seem like much until I took the next class.

Day 5: Third Class of Level 1-2 Progressive Series

My seemingly unproductive open-pole session actually made a difference! Sasha commented that I had softened my approach to the pole, which I took as a compliment. The spins I struggled with came easier and, while I didn’t float effortlessly, I felt like I wasn’t hanging on for dear life and unceremoniously dropping myself on my knees. I was also able to climb halfway up the pole.

Sasha worked on our floor moves and taught us how to take a spin to the ground, roll it over, do some flirtatious leg moves and bring us back to standing and voila, we had a mini-combination. Add some music and now I was feeling damn sexy and a little bit good at this. We reviewed the three front hook spins and I felt like I was finally getting the hang of things.

As I write this, I am aware of the various tender spots on my body, namely my calves, tops of my feet (from pole climbing) and behind my knees. Maybe it is my age (I just turned 40), or my athletic zeal for muscling through the movement (I’m working on my finesse) but I’m feeling like it was pretty smart to start this during the winter months when I can hide my bruises behind long pants and tights. Like any athlete, there is a part of me that relishes my battle bruises and sore muscles. I worked for these and I am using parts of my body that I’ve never used before. I am also hoping that come springtime my legs will be as unblemished as my technique.

Day Six: Open Pole

After approaching the general manager at my gym about installing a pole in a corner of an unused racquetball court (and getting totally shot down), I decided that I’m going to have to take advantage of as many of open pole sessions as possible. I find it inspiring to be around more experienced dancers, and that would be everyone but me. Some of the faces looked familiar to me and although most, but not all, of the women appeared to be college age, I am eager to perform with them in a showcase one day. There is a small bulletin board near the entrance to the studio that advertises the services of various choreographers who can help with routines. It is encouraging to know that I don’t have to figure out a whole routine on my own. Nine times out of ten I’ll enlist the best help I can find because I believe in killing it. This gets me psyched.

Day Seven: Fourth Class of Level 1-2 Progressive Series

We reviewed our Front Hook spins and started in on the basic back spins and learned how to link the two together. Between all our “big” tricks, Sasha taught smaller transition moves, both standing and on the floor, that can work to make sexy little combination.

Linking moves together elevated the pole from simply trying to master a trick to doing something creative, personal and dancer-like. Sasha broke down how to execute a full back-bend to the floor that took it from being a total no-go in my mind to something completely doable. The great moment really came when she turned down the lights, put on some music and encouraged us to freestyle for the last five minutes of class. For a few minutes I almost lost myself in the movement that came easier and felt sensual and empowering.

I’m still trying to figure out how to approach talking about my new passion. I don’t want to be snippy with people about it, but I’m getting a little tired of the smirks and the jokes about my “second job”. I challenge anyone to try it and not walk away with a deep respect for the athleticism and commitment of an accomplished pole dancer: stripper or otherwise. So if I’m unlikely to blurt out in a mixed crowd that I am taking these classes, it’s because I want to get so good at it that I can wipe the smirk off anyone’s face who thinks it’s easy and for layabouts. When I’m that good, there will be a pole in my living room.

Part II of Spiraling Out of Control coming up in March! Stay tuned!

Wax On/Wax Off

I've lived in New York, Miami Beach, Las Vegas, Santa Fe and now Lafayette, CO. I've pole danced in all those places, and therefore, have gotten Brazilian waxed in all those cities. While I may not be an expert, I know a thing or two about ripping hair off of sensitive body parts.

It was the mid '90s when I first received a Brazilian wax. As a matter of fact, it wasn't even called a "Brazilian"--nobody performed that service so it didn't even have a name yet. Suzanne, a pre-Goth chick working at Salon 123 on Fifth Avenue was discovered by my friend, Kina. I had never done any waxing whatsoever so I had nothing to compare it to. She was serious and intense and reminded me of Parker Posey wearing hardcore black stomper boots under her white aesthetician coat. I was intrigued by her long, jet black hair and perfectly blunt bangs. She was also quite an efficient waxer. I was in and out in 25 minutes. Salon 123 was a converted loft on the 2nd floor with 12 foot arched windows between every hair station and beautiful, creaky dark wood floors. It was a Greenwich Village/Chelsea clientele who apparently never waxed because while the rest of the salon was fairly luxe, the waxing room was barely bigger than the table it held. I called up one day asking for Suzanne, who always booked her own appointments. Unfortunately Suzanne was out, and the following conversation was...painful:
     Me: I need to book an appointment with Suzanne. She knows me.
     Her: What is it for?
     Me: (squirming) Um...she knows.
     Her: (immediately snotty) Well I can't make an appointment unless I know how long it'll take!
     Me: It's...a bikini wax...a FULL bikini wax...
     Her: What the hell does that mean?
     Me: (extremely agitated by now) She takes all the hair off my ¥%**y!
     Her: (meekly)...well you don't have to be rude about it...
As I said: nobody was doing it and nobody was getting it done then.

Miami was the exact opposite. There were waxing salons on every block and every place offered a Brazilian...for $20. The ladies were lovely, but clearly came from the Grip & Rip school of beauty. Some were more careful than others, but practically every time I got waxed, I came home with slightly burned skin in a very delicate area. I shrugged it off: it was pretty much what I'd expect for $20.

One would think that with all the showgirls and strippers in Vegas that there'd be a plethora of salons at extremely competitive prices. Perhaps there were, but I never found them. The one place I went to charged close to $80 and perhaps to offset the cost, I was given a hot pink thong as a parting gift. I did find one aesthetician that I liked, but she had plans to move out of state in the next few months. FYI: turns out that all the professional dancers had their hair permanently removed by laser. It seems that the price of the laser procedures would end up costing less than waxing for eternity. Makes sense, but who knew?

I did not hold out any hope that there would be any waxing options in the marijuana smoking, granola eating, Birkenstock wearing City Different. I was pleasantly surprised to find a salon close to the end of our 6-month stint in Santa Fe. The aesthetician was wonderful but the price tag was exorbitant. It was enough to make me consider going to aesthetician school and opening up my own waxing establishment.

So when we got to Boulder (yet another hippie-dippie town)  I was hopeful, but not expectant. My husband thoughtfully bought me a gift certificate to a chichi spa that our neighbor said was well-known in town. I was shocked that the receptionist was so condescending, unhelpful, and resentful. I almost left before the service even began. The spa was blissful but the waxing itself was only serviceable. The second time I visited the spa, the receptionist was new with a slightly better attitude, but the wax resulted in my very first ingrown hairs. For all the time I had been getting waxed, I had never suffered ingrowns or even irritation. As well, upon closer inspection, I found at least five missed hairs. I was beyond annoyed and heading towards desperate. As a pole dance instructor, I couldn't very well sashay around with a "situation" going on down there.

After two short flights of stairs, I opened the door to Waxing The City. I peered down the long, bleached hallway, and the receptionist welcomed me with a greeting and a smile. I asked if they took walk-ins and she replied sincerely: "we try to". She asked me if there was at least 2-4 weeks of growth (to which the answer was a firm "yes") and then went to see if anyone was free.  The waiting room was bright and pleasant, and before I could even settle down with October's Allure, I was asked to fill out an information sheet. There was a thorough checklist asking if I were on certain medications or pregnant, etc. It was professional and very appreciated by this particular client. Summer came in to introduce herself and lead me to a room. After explaining what she wanted me to do (again, very much appreciated because it left no room for wondering how much clothing to take off or which way I should face on the table), I requested a pillow because I was battling a mild attack of vertigo. She returned with a bolster normally used to prop oneself up in bed. I was grateful not to have to lay flat on my back.

Summer, a genuinely kind woman, chatted easily with me as she worked adeptly with the hard wax. The temperature was perfect--I never felt in danger of being scalded or skinned. She rolled up a towel to support my injured hip and I relaxed into the table. She revealed that she'd been an aesthetician for 13 years and had, up until recently, been traveling to Texas twice a month to work there. Clearly she was in demand and excellent at what she does in order for her company to fly her around, rather than merely hire another waxer. She worked quickly yet unhurriedly, casual in manner but extremely professional. Before I knew it, one side was bare and she was leaning in with her tweezers and lighted magnifying device.

Waxing The City has three tiers of "cerologist", their own term for waxing expert. The tier determines the pricing but is not necessarily an indication of expertise--it only means the amount of time the cerologist has been working at Waxing The City. When I checked out, I noticed there was no line on the receipt for a tip. Summer told me that tipping is not allowed, but that if I were happy with the service, they would like it if I would recommend them to a friend. I hope a blog counts!

A word of warning: Summer only works at Waxing The City in Boulder two days per month. The rest of the time she's in Denver. I really lucked out!

Glass Houses

When I first got interested in pole dancing, I spent countless hours at the computer watching YouTube videos. There were endless amounts of vids out there ranging from the novice to the industry dancer/semi-professional (there weren’t any real professional pole artists at the time like there are today). I was fascinated by each and every one of them. I identified with the beginners and loved watching them work out the same tricks I was trying to work out. I was in awe of the advanced dancers and favorited many of their “blooper” videos. My husband had to force me to turn off the computer and get into bed at night.

As I took more classes and learned more technique, somehow my views began to shift. Now that I knew what I was looking at, my eye became more critical. I gasped when I saw girls kick up into inversions, or monkey feet during pole climbs. I groaned out loud to see "wrong" arms, "wrong" legs, "wrong" music. (Yes, yes, I know I sound like a truly awful human being, but I'm trying to be really honest so stick with me to the end, ok?) I was tacitly vicious, for I never spoke my thoughts out loud, nor shared them in written comments. I sat smugly at home in smarmy judgment. (Can you see where this is leading?)

One evening I attended a student showcase at the studio where I took classes in Nevada. The registration deadline to perform had passed by the time I started at the studio, but I was a regular in the mornings and learned quite a bit in a relatively short period of time. It was very easy for me to be upset that I had missed the deadline. My friends consoled me, patting me on the shoulder and reassuring me that there would be another chance to perform soon. But inside, I was silently relieved, almost giddy really, that I was in the audience and not up on stage.

Which leads me to the turning point in this little story. I stared wide-eyed at a dancer who was attempting to sit up onto the pole from a headstand. She was clearly stuck and struggling and I was embarrassed for her. I glanced around at the audience, which consisted mainly of friends and family of the dancers.  I watched a woman clap her hands over her mouth, her own body twitching as if she wanted to jump up onto the stage to help the upside-down girl. A glance in the other direction brought me to another audience member muttering "come on, you can do it..." It seemed like everyone was cheering her on. No one looked away as if it were a humiliating scene not to be witnessed. Everyone was on her side and everyone wanted her to succeed.

I sat in my bubbling hot shame, wishing someone could have heard my previous thoughts so they could slap me hard across the face like I deserved. There I was, judging that dancer for not having the "perfect" sit up from a headstand, when I didn't even have the balls to even get up there to dance! I thought about all those videos I watched and all those girls I had criticized without ever having the guts to post a single video myself. It takes a thick skin to put a video up on a public forum like You Tube or Facebook, or to compete or even participate in a student showcase. Not only do you have to bear the opinions of narcissistic jerks like myself, you also need to allow yourself to be vulnerable to the process of creation. Those girls had the courage that I didn't, and until I found the stones to put myself out there like they did, I hadn't earned the privilege of uttering one single word--unless it was a word of unconditional support.

Several weeks ago, Boulder Spirals hosted our very first September Student Showcase. The girls did everything themselves, from choosing music to choreographing to rehearsing. I was ecstatic that girls brand new to pole opted to perform. Some asked me if you had to be advanced to dance in the showcase. I told them that the showcase was for any student who wanted to perform. If you had something you wanted to express, then you were welcome to do so, regardless of whether you were doing Russian splits or simply walking around the pole for four minutes. We were lucky enough to have professional pole artist, Holly 'Honey' Miely, close the showcase with a breath-taking, stellar free-style routine that left the audience on their feet, screaming and clapping. Stunning? Yes, absolutely! But it was no more impressive and inspiring than our incredible and courageous girls who signed up to perform in the Student Showcase.
Bravo, ladies, bravo!

DollHouse, dollhouse, doll house, the doll's house?

DollHouse, Dollhouse, doll house, the doll’s house...it seems like you can’t spit these days without hitting a pole studio with one of those names. How do I know this? Because I am co-owner of one and the spit is hitting the fan!

Ms M and I christened our studio, DollHouse Pole Studio, from Henrik Ibsen’s A Doll’s House. We saw Nora, the heroine, not only as a frivolous self-centered woman who is second-class to her husband, Torvald. We recognized glimmers of her self-realization, which are the roots to empowerment, whether the form it manifests is socially acceptable or not. We wanted to champion her innate understanding of her sensual power over Torvald, rather than vilify it. Every woman’s journey to find her strength is unique and Ms M and I make no judgements on the different routes taken. The concept for DollHouse Pole Studio was never about ‘objectifying women’ but giving women a safe environment to explore those paths. Our dolls aren’t fragile or helpless or only to be viewed from behind a glass case. Our dolls are courageous, brilliant, able to laugh at themselves, and always ready to encourage one another. This is the DollHouse that we hoped to create.

Before opening our doors in March, Ms M and I did a quick internet search and discovered one studio with a similar name residing in a town several states over, as well as a burlesque troupe located in another coutry. Six months later, two more pole dance studios have cropped up in the US with names almost exactly the same as ours. Again, those other studios were nowhere nearby, but suddenly we were uneasy. Had we been unknowingly sucked into the collective consciousness of pole studio owners?! Here we’d been mistakenly believing that our identity was unique, only to find that we were as common as a Prius owner in Boulder.

We sat down and did a lot of soul searching. We didn’t want to be lumped in with the other dance studios, nor did we want to be necessarily associated with the zillions of xxx venues that use some form of ‘doll+house’. Our business plan changed, grew and expanded, and we clearly saw that we, as a studio, had to follow suit. As Summer drifts contentedly into Autumn, Ms M and I would like to invite you to embrace the transitions that fill the air. We recently put up 8 new stainless steel PoleDanzer poles; we are currently stocking our shelves with new apparel and new shoes; we’ve got new classes, new teachers, new apprentices; and soon we will be offering a brand new Teacher Training Program.

You see, we realised that we are unique, regardless of what our name might be. Our identity wasn’t tied in with words. We saw that the studio was no longer a tiny idea that we birthed earlier this year.  It had grown and matured before our very eyes, due to the love given to it by you, our clients. It is your commitment to yourselves and your support of us, that fuels the studio.

Without “you” there is no “us”.

Please help us celebrate our new name: Boulder Spirals!

A Doll Dances

Change prickles the air all around me and I squirm uncomfortably. I’ve been trained to cultivate balance, to inhale and exhale, but I fail miserably as I dart from one activity to the next. I don’t feel like I’m breathing at all and my eyeballs ache from tension. I can’t concentrate and I want to throw something hard at the wall. There’s nothing that I am able to control and so I feel helpless. And I hate feeling helpless.

I’m playing a waiting game. Waiting to hear back from so-and-so, which effects the decision I’m waiting on from so-and-so, as well as waiting for work to be done, for choices to be made, for actions to begin. And so I am biting my nails, gritting my teeth, and pacing. Back and forth, back and forth. Still, I cannot make anything happen yet.

I search schedule after schedule of dance studios. I want to take class and work and sweat. I need to get my endorphins to release. If I’m going to have to struggle mentally, I might as well do it physically, too. But none of the times work out for me and I end up frustrated and irritated.

And so I dance alone. I choose music that is moody, indecisive, yearning and melancholy. It reflects my simmering kettle of emotions. There’s not enough heat to boil, but there is enough to agitate. My anxiety is tangible, leaving a flat metal taste in my mouth. Perhaps it’s related to the lead that I feel in my chest. I force my hands to uncurl from the fists they are automatically making and begin walking around the pole. I let the music move my body. There is anguish in my movement, tense recoil in my muscles. I don’t worry about the tricks, but I push my lines further and further. The angles that I normally make become more elongated as I reach as far as I can away from my center. I don’t think. I just am.

A Darn Good Post from A (Male) Guest Bloggist

Why every woman should take pole fitness:

Ok, to start this off on the right foot; I’ll just get it out there that I’m a guy, and no guy has any business ever giving women advice or telling them what is right. Just the fact it comes from a guy means its bs and he’s obviously wrong. So stop reading now.

I said stop reading.

Ok, if you’re still here you don’t follow instructions very well. I am going to voice my opinion anyway and likely be damned for it. So read at your own risk.

I’m a guy who loves to study women. Yes, in every creepy weird way I love to try to figure out what makes them tick. I know there is no answer; I know any answer is subject to change at any moment but for some reason it is all fascinating to me . I love the 1001 ideas of “what a woman really is “ inside every woman’s brain, all at the same time and the huge gap between those ideas and the reality of what women actually do and actually are. Women have a self-image that is constantly shifting within American society and their own personal self-image that is sometimes in direct conflict with society’s view and somehow in the moment it’s still the right way to be.  Sound confusing. I’m guessing it is and I’m only peeking through one window, who knows what’s really going on? 

So I guess I had better get to the point. Every woman should take pole fitness. Why? Look most women in the United States are constantly bombarded with images of what “sexy is” and why they are not. You allways having some short coming being pointed out to you by some magazine or commercial. You have to have “X” to be more perfect. I’ll let you in on 3 secrets. First, every guy knows the sexiest thing is confidence.  It’s just that simple. When you are confident everyone wants to be around you. Second everyone can be confident. If your not born with it you can learn it. Get naked, look in the mirror and say, “This is what I have!” and be truly happy with what you have. It’s freaking special there is only one of you in the universe, and there will never be another. Which brings me to secret #3: someone out there thinks the worst part of your body is more than just awesome but likely has some fetish about it. 

Years ago all women thought huge asses were bad. Now thanks to J-Lo and Kim Kardashian, anyone with a huge ass now carries it with tremendous pride. And if you missed the memo, get out there and be proud of your huge ass, ‘cause most men love it. One personal example, my own wife is a 99.5 pound Asian (who have their own fan club following them) was living in South Beach. She loved the attention of being the "the token Asian girl" around all her gay friends, BUT; when she got pregnant (not a little preggers, I mean the two, maybe three chins and the funny waddle going on) the Latin guys went crazy. It was the first time she had guys whistling at her walking down the street. When she thought she was at her worst,  there were still guys more than willing to flirt and be, what I would call, our normal idiot selves. The reality is: for every body type there is some group of men who would put you on a pedestal. Did you know there is a fetish for almost every part of a woman, and usually it’s some part they try to hide? The muffin top is the Holy Grail to some men, the flabby part on the underside of your arms, drives some men nuts. Hey-- you with the crooked toes, there is a group of men dying to kiss and honor your feet. Really, all us guys are not that hard to find, you just have to learn to be confident with what you have and suddenly you will find hundreds of them. And like your friends say, don’t take the first guy who loves your creepy toes, there are others out there. (Trust me, really!)

Which brings me back to the point: you need somewhere to practice your confidence. There is no better community than a place where other women are just learning to move their bodies in that same way, too. Did your mom really teach you how to walk in heels? When did you ever practice being sexy? Where do you practice the wink and the partial lip bite (god that’s hot!). Where do you get to practice saying, “This is who I am and screw anyone who disagrees.”?  Pole studios are the only place I know of where women can learn and practice these things, plus get in shape, and make some great friends. A pole studio offers all this and more.

Look, as a guy I have a vested interest in seeing women be happy. The happier women are surprisingly the more things in the world are not my fault and I get to have more fun. So there is no reason for me to lie or make dumb suggestions.

I’ll be brutally honest. Your mom lied. Bad girls do have more fun.  Society lied--there are no barriers or lines in the sand. You can be a great mom, a dirty slut, and a successful businesswoman and not be a bitch. You can be a dom and a sub in any situation and change your mind at any time, and still be in total control. We think in black and white terms, yes and no answers. We all know reality isn’t that simple, and neither are people--especially women. We are moving towards a society where roles are not defined by genitals and where you put them, and it’s going to be as confusing as hell for a while. So put on some lipstick, buckle up, and enjoy the ride.

There are skills you know you don’t have. There is a level of confidence you wish you could attain. A pole studio is a fun safe place to practice, play, succeed and even sometimes fail. When you do occasionally fail you will have tons of support on how to get back up and try again.  Gyms and diets are about making a new you. Pole fitness is about finding the you that is already there and just helping you believe in her.

One class is all it takes; trust me you will get hooked.