by Tracy Quan
by Tracy Quan
In this NAFTA $ex Survey, Tracy Quan talks to an expert on the Southern sell, gets the inside scoop on Canada's new lap-dancing laws and takes a closer look at San Francisco's erotic landmarks.
Canada, we think, is the spinsterish, uptight sister who stayed home and behaved while the U.S. broke away from stuffy British mores and claimed its freedom. But Canada's reputation as a censorious, unimaginative prude is deceptive. When it comes to pleasure, there are
things you can do in Toronto or Vancouver that are illegal in New York. Whether you're travelling for business or pleasure, the things you'd really like to know aren't in the Michelin guide. Such as? An unprepared traveller could get busted for possessing a harmless sex toy in Atlanta. In New York City, your right to carry a dildo is still intact, but you might not find a place that sells one after the new zoning laws take effect. Sin City is having a hard time living up to its name, and seems to enjoy playing the reformed tart. These days, Atlanta is much friendlier to the erotic impulses of its residents and visitors, so pleasure seekers may find the South more welcoming. San Francisco -- that's where topless pioneer Carol Doda made her name -- continues to come up with new ideas. Where else would you find the most politically correct peep shows in America?
Erotic dancers, performers and others who play for pay are the people who really know what makes one city different from another. Some things stay the same, no matter where you go -- but the rules of the game do not.
Atlanta has been grappling with a sexual identity crisis. "Several years ago," says Atlanta pleasure-broker Dolores French, "I was arrested for having a dildo in a locked suitcase in the trunk of my car." French's arrest was no fluke; nor was it one of those quickie busts that might be likened to a parking ticket. The city spent "a lot of money" trying to convict her, she says, "for distribution of obscene material". Dolores French (who now runs her own phone fantasy line) is an expensive woman to prosecute. In French's case, the city eventually lost. But "it really used to be that bad," she recalls. "The vice squad routinely searched for dildos, and if they found one, you were liable for an obscenity charge. For the past two years, that law has been ignored," French tells me. To see these toys openly displayed at adult bookstores and novelty shops -- and to carry them around without fear of arrest -- was a breakthrough in Atlanta. Under a new city administration, with apparently saner priorities, entrepreneurs of the erotic have been operating much more openly.
In the new S&M clubs, "you can't do things you might get away with in Amsterdam or New York. But, short of genital contact, there's a lot of activity and it's very public. Admission charges are surprisingly low -- less than $50." (Remember when S&M was the sport of snobs?) The Atlanta Power Exchange and Auntie Mame's (a professional dungeon) are well-known to local fetishists, and most clubs cater primarily to amateur enthusiasts.
Glitzy topless clubs are as visible here as in other cities. The McTopless trend -- a uniform hard sell by uniformly hard bodies, accompanied by lots of noise and light -- has altered the sex industry's image. But the bar of The Clairmont Hotel (on Ponce de Leon Avenue) eludes rehabilitation. French describes The Clairmont as "a grand hotel with a classy past and a few permanent residents." The Clairmont bar is a cozy (but sleazy) local where "women take off their clothes but nobody really cares," she explains. "There's always a stripper on duty and no admission charge. Tourists don't know about it because there are no ads. It's normal to see ladies and married couples socializing at The Clairmont. A trashy place with no pretensions -- one of the strippers has been working there for 20 years. I just love it," she adds.
