In previous columns, I've hinted at the idea that strippers who refuse to get in where they fit in will inevitably leave their shifts broke and frustrated. But I haven't broken down the two most profitable personas, which, if applied consistently, can result in an endless stream of customer tips. I'm sure there's some larger, socio/psycho-logical reason why these load-out builds work, but I'm not about to dust off the degree I shouldn't have and fill a porno mag with academic jargon and ivory tower bullshit. This advice falls into the “drunk white women in groups love Journey and Madonna” genre of wisdom, in that it's just true, and I don't really know why.
Rule 7: Pick a Persona & Stick to It
Men (who make up the bulk of strip club customers) are simple, stubborn creatures when it comes to interacting with half-naked women. We may think we have diverse tastes, but if given the option, most of us either have no preference at all or we stick to our “type,” regardless of secondary traits like race, age, or appearance. I've dated white girls, black girls, older girls, younger girls, city girls, country girls, and even a few gingers—yet, every one of them smoked weed, listened to downtempo techno, and enjoyed long drives to random places on the coast, because my type is actually just “chick from Oregon.” So, regardless of looks, age, or ethnicity, my type exists in a wide net, but where my specific type is concerned, it's about as diverse as a Portland City Council meeting. Since I'm aggressively average where pretty much any statistic is concerned, I'd suggest strippers take this into consideration when interacting with men at the club—either be a complete blank slate, upon which the average dude can project his own fantasy, or an extremely specific “type.” But you need to be genuinely one or the other, because guys can smell bullshit (and they can get that on the dating apps for free).
Money Persona 1: Be Water
A rule of mob mentality, whether protesting social injustice or trampling elders for a Black Friday sale, the idea of “be water” means to literally go with the flow…don't stand out, and become practically invisible. Think of this strategy as the polar opposite of showing up to a No Kings rally in a Pikachu suit with a megaphone, or a Best Buy midnight release in boxing gloves. Instead, you'd be the black-hoodie-and-mask blur that is nearly impossible to distinguish from their comrades at the protest, or the “just looking for the restroom, oops I grabbed the last PS5” clueless dad navigating Black Friday chaos. While others are seeking attention, you are simply there to participate and then disappear, often for a bottom line or cause (in your case, tips and dances) and not “look at me, here's my Instagram, please plaster my face all over social media until I'm arrested for petty arson and/or trampling employees.” Chaos, to you, is like rain. Peace, to you, is a river. As water, you are unaffected either way. Blend in, don't stand out, and you will make bank, even with guys who don't frequent strip clubs (bachelor parties, birthdays, etc.), simply because your lack of flavor or style will allow your basics to shine and appeal to the widest net of customers. The stoic stripper is unaffected by environmental changes; thus, her income doesn't vary when said changes occur.
What does the Be Water stripper look like? The girl next door, especially through a 1990s Playboy centerfold insert lens: the nondescript, obtainable eight, whose personality is vanilla regardless of skin color. Interests? “Going on trips with my girls.” Type of man? “A good smile.” Tattoos? “A butterfly on my ankle.” Favorite food? “Brunch.” Favorite music? “Pop and some rap.” The trick here is to be the “type” of every single dude who thinks he has a type, without actually being any specific type. Whatever the vibe is at the club, Be Water dancers will flow with it. If there's heavy metal blaring, casually nod your head. If there's chill hip hop playing, casually sway your hips. Be the background character of your choice in any open-world video game (but also, don't stab someone for bumping into you). Blend in, and your lack of any off-putting flavor or spice will actually benefit you where the bulk of men are concerned. Most guys don't come to strip clubs looking for best friends, girlfriends, or business partners (well, at least guys with money and social skills don't). We only pretend to care about your interests, and our money is yours the second you stop swimming upstream against the current, and just smile while bouncing your chest. The appeal of Be Water is similar to the appeal of hearing Sublime at the weed dispensary: you just blend in and feel right. Even if you're not the main attraction, you aren't off-putting, and no one is going to leave the stage when you step up.
Ideal stage names for Be Water strippers are fake-real names, i.e., Lindsay, Stephanie, Jessica, etc. Be the girl your customer is afraid to talk to in the elevator, the stacked librarian with the “silencers” sweater, or his barista crush. Boring is better, because to many men, boring means peaceful, and he already has chaos at home. Bat your eyelashes, nod, and smile. Also, keep work at work. Don't go to the after-hours events, don't start a “stripper page” on social media, just blend in and soak up the money when it appears. Plus, if and when you decide to retire, you won't have a trail of evidence documenting your career as “...um, what was her name?” If you're planning on actually paying for college with your pole dance earnings, this is your route (plus, you can always blackmail a few of your professors if you pick day shift at a club near campus).
Money Persona 2: Subculture X, Turned Up to 11 (Be Fire)
This is the exact opposite of Be Water, but it works for the dancers who embrace it fully. If you are confident that you have a “type” your customers may be into, this is where you, the [insert subculture] girl, look, talk, dance, and behave like a music video or comic book representation of said subculture. If there were an action figure made of you, would your fans know it was you? If so, this is your category. The complete opposite of Be Water, the Subculture X dancer fully embraces and commits to a style. Of note, it might not even be a subculture—just a fully committed-to persona that doesn't clock out or switch up.
One of my favorite dancers in this genre is Malice, who probably doesn't even need an introduction, if you've been in Portland clubs for more than a few weeks, but in case you were born in the 2020s, she has an extremely dialed-in punk rock, horror-movies-and-Hollywood, glam-but-not-tacky, badass vibe that extends far beyond her appearance. While most dancers would give me a rough set of suggestions for music and/or operate off of a short, boring playlist from a computer, Malice would approach the DJ booth with a CD booklet, complete with burned CDs that featured tried and tested punk, metal, and that Gangsta Boo song about tipping dancers. She had pre-planned sets that would vary depending on who was sitting at the stage, and they all seemed to work. “Hey, DJ, play track one from this CD, and then tracks two and five from this CD.” This was in the 2010s, not the 1990s, by the way, and I'm convinced that the only time our CD players would get used was when she was on shift. I once asked Malice if she wanted to make a folder on the house DJ computer, and she just told me straight up that her CDs work and she knows what works, so there's no reason to change it. And guess what? It fucking worked. Whether intentional or not, Malice presented herself as a whole-ass character, not just “Oh, I like some stuff by Misfits, if you want me to dance to it.” The nomadic, stories-for-days, punk rock, West-Hollywood-coded heavy metal girl doesn't have a fucking Spotify playlist; she has CDs. Telling Malice she can't use CDs would be like telling Snoop Dogg he can't smoke. When you are fully yourself and committed to the bit, others will make exceptions for you.
There's a handful of other dancers in the area who take a similar approach, whether a Juggalette stripper (Kali, I believe...please don't remove my Hatchetman tat if I spelled that wrong), or many of the Kit Kat “retro-showgirl” dancers, who would look just as good in a black-and-white movie as they do in person in 2026. These dancers don't partially commit to the bit—they adopt every aspect of Subculture X and run with it. And, because of the full commitment, men who aren't even in the same ballpark where “type” is concerned still end up tipping these dancers well, because there's no room for negotiation. Juggalette Kali isn't going to dance to Mumford & Sons. Burlesque Betty isn't going to wear sneakers while dancing to Macklemore. The Subculture X dancer is comfortable and doesn't seek approval, and because of this, she makes consistent money (or is able to assess whether or not she can, in any given club or setting). In this way, Subculture X dancers don't rely on fitting into various flexible “types,” as much as they double- and triple-down on earnings when a dude has their type in mind. Malice makes money regardless of whether customers at the club like punk rock, but she makes a lot more when punkers are at the club.
Where Be Water dancers are unaffected, Subculture X girls are unapologetic. Both of these approaches work with men because they are non-negotiable presentations and require no additional work on our part. No games, no “Gee, I wonder if she's cool,” no drama, just fantasy girl A or fantasy girl B. Hot tub, or roller coaster. Juice, or gin. And they mix perfectly, so most guys will try both.
Broke Persona: Pandering Faker
Here's what doesn't work: trying to turn tricks. Contrast the “confident in my own style” approach to one where pandering is obvious and dishonesty abounds. This is where a dancer will switch up her style and taste based on who's in the room, and it becomes obvious that she's only doing so to make money. Unlike the Be Water stripper, a pandering stripper will pretend to cater to customers while clearly not enjoying the idea of doing so. Of course, the entire goal of a shift as a stripper is to make money, but you're selling a fantasy, not a charity or a scam. That “hello fellow teens” meme of Steve Buscemi holding two skateboards comes to mind whenever a dancer sees my KMFDM shirt, and tells me she loves “Kill Mother Fucking Depeche Mode” and their song about fucking animals. I have much more respect for the hood chick who asks if my shirt is gang-affiliated before dancing to her own music. Being genuine, even as a salesperson, is a gold mine. It's like walking onto a used car lot and seeing some gearhead chewing tobacco and blasting Sammy Hagar—I'd be much more trusting of him than some douchey, brown-suit-and-sunglasses car salesman type, who pretends to like Wu-Tang because he saw my W tat. Yeah, they're both technically salespeople, but the guy who looks the part is gonna get my attention a lot faster than the sleazy dude trying to suss out what will make me spend money.
In short, either be water or be fire. If Be Water and Subculture X were restaurants, one would be a huge buffet where any and all options were available, while the other is that Italian restaurant on Barbur, where the Mafia vibes owner won't leave egg out of the salad dressing upon request, because “it comes with egg.” Don't half-ass it. Don't pander. Let the DJ pick all of your music, or none at all. Be the girl next door, or the exciting chick her husband fantasizes about. But don't be somewhere in the middle. Don't try to Nirvana shirt your way into the hearts of guys who can tell you hate music with instruments. Of course, this isn't me going against prior month's advice and telling strippers not to pander—rather, I'm telling you how to pander, and it's either water or fire, all or none.
Think of it with the genders swapped (assuming you're straight or bi). You're at the function and you, the single female with attention to spare, see three dudes who you find attractive. First dude, nondescript and fluid, chatting with everyone, not adding much to the convo, but fully comfortable wherever he ends up. He's mysterious, that's attractive. Second dude, giant mohawk and facial tattoos, but a really nice smile and a firm handshake. He's confident, that's attractive. The third dude asks what you're into, pretends to be into it, smells of bullshit and alpha male YouTube tips, switches up his stances during conversation, and tries to appeal to you while not really showing his true intentions. He's giving “the ick,” as kids would say. This is how it works for men in the club. We like mystery and confidence, but we can suss out grifters from a mile away (unless we're buying stocks or voting).
