Curious Seeds 07: So Fully Expressed You're Magnetic
Interview with veteran Portland stripper Margot
Curious Seeds is an interview series with beautiful, fascinating humans and/or creatures. Suggest someone to interview here.
Margot* is a deep feeler and creative who expresses her art through stripping, dancing, and writing, among other things. She is a veteran stripper and owner of Fig Tree Studio, Portland’s first stripper-owned pole studio, opening Fall 2023. I connected with Margot last year in a sacred feminine creativity workshop. I decided to join on a whim, the very day it started. I had gone to Joshua Tree alone for what I deemed a “grief trip.” There was something about Margot I was immediately drawn to. I think it’s partly that she seems to be on her pwn very long, beautiful grief trip. Vulnerability is terrifying, but powerful. That has become very clear to me.
*Margot is her stage name
Margot, it’s so good to be with you!
We're going to play a short game I made up called, "this or that, without context" in which I give you two concepts and you choose one - for whatever reason you want - and you can share why, or not.
Angst or moss? I love periods of angst, but moss feels more sustainable and gentle on my body and mind.
Spinning or undulating? Lemme spin on occasion but undulating all the way, so that I can be with my thoughts as life happens.
Tube socks or lava tubes? I’m a big fan of socks.
Sleeping in a craggy cave or building a giant nest made of pixie sticks? Sugar nest, 100%.
The perfect gaze for the moment or a fresh buttery croissant? Big fan of gazing and croissants, but my gluten sensitivity has thankfully spared me from having to choose.
How has dancing, and more specifically stripping, deepened your experience of being in your body and your knowing of all that the body can be and do?
I grew up feeling like I couldn’t take up space. I was not confident and received mixed messages about my sexuality and bodily autonomy. I think of little me often, and times in my life that I changed or diluted who I was in order to be accepted. I think of how very sad it is that 27 years later, I’m still trying to quiet the voices that tell me I’m unlovable as myself.
On the other side is the thrill of being so fully expressed that I am absolutely magnetic. Being on stage feels like a constant process of working through anxiety, self-doubt, and shame, most of the time subconsciously. Performing has healed me in so many ways. Owning my identity as a stripper has healed me as well.
Can you talk a bit about your navigation of boundaries, masks, performance, and vulnerability in your work?
Vulnerability has been a fascinating area to play with at work, and many strippers would (and do) critique the way I choose to engage with this at the club and on social media. A coworker recently called me a “therapy stripper”, with disdain.
I love it. I have a bachelor’s degree in social work. Making people feel good — better, even — has always mattered to me.
I tend to attract customers looking for something a little deeper; affection, compliments, touch, a space to share their successes and their struggles. I love when someone says something like “I’ve had a really hard week, so this is my treat to myself” and then I get to squeeze their shoulders, delicately trace my fingertips down their forearms or on their neck. They get to receive, and as long as I feel safe and respected, I really picture sending healing, calming energy their way. I do my best to be genuine and find there are plenty of ways to make people feel good without lying.
This world can be bleak and lonely, and for men in particular, it can be hard to find relief. I am a huge advocate for therapy, but the power of human touch is perhaps unmatched. The power of feminine energy is profound. I have had plenty of men casually objectify me on stage with their friends, trying to keep it sexual because that’s what they think they should be doing at a strip club, but when I get them into the back room, they shed that armor as I coax out their sweet and vulnerable side.
I am just in love with this process, with how it varies with each person. I’m always learning and refining. And I feel deeply appreciative and moved by so many of my customers and the connections we have built. Being a stripper is one of the most profound experiences I will have in this lifetime, and I am so proud to call myself one.
I’ve seen you pole dance, and it’s totally mesmerizing: the meeting of metal and flesh, of structure and softness. What’s that experience like for you?
Ahh thank you! I love that description. The way dancing feels varies depending on what’s going on in my head on a given day. Some days it feels tender, cathartic, and deeply emotional; or meditative and soothing, introspective without thoughts, therapy without the exchange of words. My thoughts quiet, and the music feels like it moves through me; my body just spins and bends and lifts without my knowledge, and landing a trick at the perfect part of a song… it’s euphoric.
At work, dancing often feels earthy, primal, almost, deeply sexual and sensual and so true to me despite being on display for a crowded room. Messy hair covering half my face, back arched, mouth slightly open, paired with this flirtatious and playful confidence. I love following moves on the pole with eye contact and a smile. When I sit at the rack as a customer, it’s this little moment of connection that makes me feel enamored with a stripper. I’m reminded how powerful flirtation can be in making someone feel seen and appreciated in the moment. Almost like they become a part of the stage set as opposed to passive watchers.
Three words: what does flow state feel like for you?
Soft, sensual, connected.
What’s your relationship with lineage and your ancestors right now?
Lineage is a complicated one for me. My family and I have a complex relationship. I grew up with a revolving selection of various traumas like most of us. I was Apostolic Christian and believed in the conservative values I overheard until I rejected both identities around the age of twelve.
When I think of lineage, I think of how painful and isolating it has been to reject the harmful beliefs and patterns that have followed my family for generations. Being a stripper was really just the cherry (albeit a very large and offensive cherry) on top of a long list of grievances my family has about me.
I came out about my job about a year after I started. When I did, there was a lot of confusion, anger, and fear as they processed the news. I only told one family member, who then outed me to the rest before I was ready to share. I received texts, phone calls, and even a typed letter expressing the pain I was causing through my choices, begging me to stop ‘selling my body’. Some of the things they said to me are hard to fathom, and I have moments where I wonder if maintaining a relationship is worth it at all. Still, they love me in the best way they know how.
Portland is the strip club capital of the US. What is important to know about stripping in the Pacific Northwest?
I think we have a unique culture here and really it’s what is keeping me in Portland for now. Everything is so dependent on which club you work at. There are a handful of clubs in Portland known for their stage performances and my current club is one of them. We have a small rotation of dancers each night and only one stage. Each dancer has their own aesthetic and chooses the music they perform to. We have monkey bars on the ceiling, and dancers are allowed to wear whatever shoes they would like. Seeing a stripper swinging upside down from the ceiling in Converse is not something one can expect to find in every strip club. This emphasis on stage performance over overt sexualization makes clubs more intriguing for a wider demographic.
Even at the clubs that have more creative freedom, like mine, it has been a process to trust that I can be fully myself. It took me some time to trust that customers would not yawn and leave the stage if I played the slow, melodic music I love dancing to. One of my favorite songs is Retrograde by James Blake, and to shift the vibe from rap to something like that on a Saturday night full of intoxicated people is a risk.
But as I experimented with being true to my style, I realized I drew people in on such a deeper level. The money followed. My club doesn’t require heels, and I eventually ditched those and now dance in over-the-knee socks, which help me maintain my slow and sensual flow.
Occasionally it doesn’t work. My performance doesn’t land with the crowd. They want bubbly or they want rap or are too wasted to even know what they want. I’ve found that catering to the crowd rarely works for me, and when it does, my interactions feel forced and more emotionally taxing. So in those chaotic moments where people are apathetic to my existence, it is worth it to me to risk missing out on some money. I just close my eyes and dance for me.
What’s your vision for Fig Tree Pole Studio?
My love for strippers has been at the forefront of my vision for this studio. I feel a deep gratitude for this industry and the ways it has changed me. The connection that strippers make with each other is nothing short of sacred.
I want it to be a space of healing, grounding, exploration, and community. That will look vastly different for each person. I think movement is one of the most powerful ways people can tend to their relationship with themselves. I envision a place where people can disconnect from the stress of the world and drop into their bodies; a space that feels soothing, inspiring, and uplifting; a space where people leave feeling a greater sense of appreciation for themselves.
I want this studio to be a space free of judgement and shame. I don’t want a dress code that tries to make pole dancing ‘fitness’, even if that is a facet of it. I want my instructors to be able to teach skills and concepts that will help us at the club. And I want the studio to be a place for strippers and non-strippers to come together and be their authentic selves. We all have so much to learn from each other.
Something that you can’t live without today that you could a year or so ago.
My ADHD diagnosis. While I don’t think formal diagnoses are necessary, acknowledging and understanding that my brain works differently has helped me navigate life in a healthier way and has allowed me to be more compassionate with myself.
Something that’s not a part of your life right now that was a year or so ago.
My long hair! I chopped about five inches off with tiny scissors jet-lagged in Barcelona in February. I miss it dearly and can’t wait for it to come back.
What have you been pecking at lately?
The necessity and urgency for time with myself that is not related to productivity.
What have you squirreled away for later?
The ‘Fig Tree’ part of my studio name comes from a Sylvia Plath excerpt about being paralyzed by the possibility of all the lives we could lead. I know I will move out of Portland someday, but I’m trying to be present and grateful for the things I love about this city. But I’m definitely squirreling away dreams of starting fresh in a different city.
Anything else to leave us with?
I’m so appreciative of this process and the chance to share my thoughts. Thank you Jess and thank you to anyone reading.
Thank you, Jess and Margot. This is a topic that makes me uncomfortable, so reading this interview and hearing the complexities of Margot's relationship to stripping, was very expansive for me.