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I’m a Danish girl living in Montréal, a city renowned for its raucous nightlife and raunchy underbelly. The strip club capital of North America, it was really just a matter of time before I was introduced to one. After all, almost every guy I know has been to a ‘gentleman’s club’, though some decidedly more frequently than others.

So one Friday night I decided to join some of my closest guy friends to see what all the fuss and fantasy was about.

Last winter, in a rebellious fit against my habitual lethargy I opted to let a little exercise into my life. Some friends of mine, fresh from a two-month belly dancing course, informed me that they had found a pole dancing class we could all sign up for.

Pole dancing, an emerging trend in fitness rather than profession, has become increasingly popular over the past several years; and it is fairly safe to say that the moment late night talk show host Conan O’Brien awkwardly attempted pole dancing maneuvers on American network television, the once notorious practice officially swung its way into mainstream pop culture.

Some might wonder where the appeal lies; others might write it off - alongside Bratz dolls and celebrity sex tapes - as yet another indication of the hyper-sexualization of Western society. But there is more to pole dancing than cheap sexual allure.

{Check Your Baggage}

He walked me to the car. He pulled my hair. Her lips were amazing and knew exactly what to do. She never complained about anything I wanted to do to her. He had the perfect ass. He was a jerk. She was always jealous. He never paid for anything. She always thought the world revolved around her. The way his clothes hung off his perfect body made me want to tear mine off. I don’t want another girl like that. I can’t have another selfish guy. This one looks like she could be different, but who knows. He looks better, but he’s so good looking he’s probably just as bad, or worse, as the last one.

I’ll preface this by saying, I am a woman. As well, women are just as objectified today as they were hundreds of years ago and they certainly know it.

I will fully admit that the easiest way to get a man’s attentions, and not necessarily his affections, is to play upon that objectification- that is, if one has the wiles to do so.