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Chats with my Little Girl: Strippers

by Laura on October 7th, 2013

When Danica was two-and-a-half, we visited a Bulgarian ski town that had several strip clubs. These establishments featured images of the performers, or at least pictures of some performers, not necessarily the ones inside. I get that.

Nevertheless, I’m talking life-sized posters of scantily clad girls wearing what only can be described by this astute writer as, stripper heels.

Perhaps you catch my drift.

To my observant toddler, these women with long wavy hair and lots of make-up were … Beautiful, momma! Which one are you? I’m the girl in the pink babing suit [yes, she was so little, she still couldn’t say “th,” but damn if she could admire a gal’s high heels].

For the first couple of days, I tried to ignore her statements, just saying that they looked pretty. But finally, I had to step in. I felt that she was dreaming to vividly of being just like these women. So …

I explained that the job of a dancer who wears such items of clothing is generally a result of the woman lacking a higher education. Specifically, I said, “If you don’t finish your school and go to college, then it’s kind of sad that you must have that job.”

It’s important to point out that at such establishments in Eastern Europe are not “merely” strip clubs, they function as brothels.

Instead of a pimp, you have a club manager.

Instead of working on the street and in alleyways, you “get” to dance in a heated establishment and take your John to an equally heated semi-private room. This is a not-to-be-underestimated-bonus for one’s workplace during the bitter winter cold. Even strippers are concerned about promaja.

That was when she was two.

Then, over the summer, we were relaxing at a local Montenegrin kafana/cafe/club. Granted, they play loud clubby music all. day. long. But even at 2 o’clock in the afternoon, it’s a fun place right on the water to get some sun and beer on tap, if that’s the kind of thing you like.

The kafana go-go dancer was significantly more well endowed in the rear section, fwiw. “Female Legs And Hands” by marin from

Enter from stage left: Go-go dancer. Not the classy kind, after all, this was not Belgrade. As a friend described, “orthopaedic” high heels. Bright orange strappy wedges to be exact.

Suuuuuper short shorts. Bathing suit top.

And, yes, she did know how to shake it. Twerk, work it, and all that jazz.

Danica at age 5.5 was interested, but not fascinated. I think she knew that something was strange about this turn of events, but she couldn’t put her finger on it.

Later on, I re-emphasized my values that this woman likely had little alternative job opportunities due to lack of education. Danica agreed that she definitely needs to finish college.

And that was that.



From → Expat Mommy

  1. Marjorie permalink

    Thanks Laura, I like the way you handled this issue with your daughter.

  2. "Babing suit"…that's too funny.

  3. Fiametta permalink

    You are an amazing mother!

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  7. Hi Laura,
    It was interesting to read your story and you had given good teaching to your daughter.., Thanks for sharing this…

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  9. Great way to respectfully explain a delicate subject.

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