Pole Dancing 101

That's an attention grabber!! Well, read on…

Every month, a group of women from my neighborhood get together. Now, this is not a women’s group in which we get together to talk about our kids or the latest new release deemed by Oprah to be a superb choice of literature. This is a once a month gathering to have a drink, catch up on the latest neighborhood happenings, and partake in whatever the host has chosen as the activity du jour.

One of my best friends and I agreed to host for the month of February and way back in late 2008, whisperings began about doing something wild for Valentine's month. The egg was laid and we were going to hatch it. Pole dancing, here we come!

Now, I believe Denver is a great city. We love it! Culture, great architecture, awesome people and plenty of good shopping and restaurants. However, it is not New York, L.A. or even Scottsdale for that matter. So, it was quite a shock to me when I began researching venues for pole dancing to find that I had more choices than will fit on one hand. I uncovered that pole dancing was quite the trend in exercise. Several local news stations had done features on it and you actually received a menu of erotic dance choices for which you would like instruction.

In mid January, the Evites went out. We really thought we would get a huge response but it appears that even the idea of pole dancing was a bit intimidating. However, by the big night we had a group of 10 daring souls ready for a night of leaps and bounds (literally).

We pulled up to the place and almost missed it. There was literally a door sandwiched between two storefronts in a dark mini-mall. We went in and immediately descended down a small stairwell into the “cave” of a studio. Was symbolism at play here?

There was a small seating area surrounded by clear plastic platform sandals, boas and other erotic dance wear. Our first sight scared us a bit. A 50ish lady wearing nothing but a tight tank top and a pair of purple lace boy short panties paraded in front of us as the previous class ended. Hmmmm. I looked down at my long black leggings and newly purchased cutesy t-shirt “Are you a good witch or a bad witch” from Target which at the time seemed witty enough to go with our event, and decided I may be out of my league. However, the teacher then bounded out with the energy that I quickly found out was needed for pole dancing and immediately set us at ease. She wasn’t wearing much more than the other woman but somehow her demeanor exuded a different aura.

Now, anyone who knows me, knows that I get right to the heart of the matter. "So, are you the owner?" "Yes", she replied "How did you get this started?" "Well, I used to take my clothes off for a living and this was a natural progression. I now do this and body build." Ok, so this was the real deal. Bring it on.

We started out with some simple pole moves. I say simple with a wicked smile. These moves were anything but simple. As I heaved my body up around the pole, I vaguely pictured what I must look like. It was not the graceful, sexy image of a well toned dancer but rather the awkward, petrified look of a cat clinging to a tree as a dog barks loudly beneath. I literally clung to that pole for dear life. “Hilary, plant your feet on the ground and ease up with the buttocks out suggestively.” Who was she kidding?

We went through a variety of moves including the Fireman (almost like a run, jump and slide down the pole with both legs tucked suggestively under you to one side) and the ballet dancer (I can’t even remember it except thinking to myself that with my strong ballet background I should be able to nail it and was quickly disappointed). There were others but all I remember is the fear that I was going to fall off the pole as I tried to maneuver my body in suggestive poses and land on two feet.

Our 47 year old instructor with a body that doesn't quit) did not let us off the hook after we mastered the pole. Rather she led us through erotic dance moves – there we were on the ground like washed up jellyfish our spindly tentacles flying around in the air following her every move. I remember looking out through the V created by my legs thinking that I looked anything but sexy at that moment. That was followed by lap dancing instruction during which we were supposed to take on the role of seductress swaying our hips and gyrating in and around our partner (one of the other mommies) while she wished she were somewhere else. I just couldn’t do that one. It was all just a little too much.

Finally, after about 60 minutes of some of us heaving and panting (and others gliding and glistening – I swear some of these gals could have tried out for the next Cirque du Soleil), she gathered us for a group photo. I would post it but I won’t do that to my fellow pole dancing girlfriends. I can tell you though that there were some subtle differences in the before and after. What I walked in with was a group of carpooling, soccer toting, goldfish dispensing Mamas. What I walked out with was a harem of confident, sashaying, into their-own women who will be forever bound by an experience that only lasted an hour. But what an hour it was. In the words of Henry Adams, “friends are born, not made.” I am glad we were able to “hatch” some new friendships during a night of merry-making.