Bobbi's Babes

*(This is an article that I wrote in November 2010)

Two weeks ago, I travelled over 4500 miles from Hong Kong to Sydney, as an Asian nerd, to pursue my master degree. Even though these two cities were not too far apart, I didn’t know what to expect from this major city Down Under. After a few days of apartment-hunting, I moved in with a 30-year-old Aussie girl called Sarsha, who was a neurologist with Dutch and Lebanese roots. Sarsha had a full head of highlighted braids. She usually tied part of her hair up high, which added a few inches to her already impressive height.

And tonight, I was going to watch Sarsha’s pole dancing performance.

She asked me to be at Bobbi’s Pole Studio, which was next to the former church of Scientology, before 7:30pm.

I stepped into this shabby building, rode the scary elevator that looked like it’d shut down at any second, to the fourth floor. The elevator door opened and all I saw was people. A crowd gathered in front of a half-closed pink door – the doorstopper was a block wrapped in a piece of pink sequin cloth. We heard loud music and cheers blasting from behind the door. We waited and waited.

Finally, the door snapped open. A tall woman in lace lingerie appeared. That was Foxy. We went in and Foxy explained the rundown. It was the end-of-term performance for four levels of classes tonight. Different levels had different costume themes and Sarsha’s level was doing the military look. But regardless of themes, every girl was in bra, undies or hot pants, and those killer heels.

After all levels had showcased what they’d achieved with the past seven weeks of training, it was teacher’s turn to perform. Isabella, a petite brunette with long sleek hair and fair skin, held her chest up, neck long, and glided across the room in shinny knee high boots. Dancing against Linkin Park’s “Leave out all the rest”, she floated around the pole, flipped herself upside down, rested her right ankle on the pole and then brought her toned left leg all the way back, forming an elegant diagonal. Moves that obviously required a tremendous amount of strength, she did them with fluidity, ease and grace. And she still managed to look sultry.

Isabella was also a veterinary nurse at Paddington Cat Hospital.

She had never been an out-going person before she became a “Bobbi’s girl”. She still remembered how nerve-wracking the first hens night that she taught was. She recalled herself thinking “gosh, I hope they don’t see my knees shaking, ‘cause I’m really nervous.”

But pole dancing had made her more confident. And she loved that she could now incorporate her love of dancing into her job, and still had time to care for animals.

After the show, we mucked around in the studio. Sarsha taught me a move or two, and as I put my hands on the pole, hooked my right knee on it and swung into a spin, it struck me how much I had used to love dancing.

The next day, I signed up for class. I’d done a few weeks of beginner pole dancing years ago in Hong Kong – well, just to learn some sexy moves and get fit, so I decided to skip the beginner level at Bobbi’s and went straight to intermediate level one – a brave decision. As it turned out, pole dancing in Sydney is very different from pole dancing in Hong Kong.

Chilli, the multitalented Chilli, who could sing, act, dance, teach and host, was my first teacher. She had long black hair, a hard-core tan and a hot body. She was in her late 30s and she loved her toy boys. For our first class, both Chilli and I were early, so we chitchatted for a while. She asked for my name and I said Ariel.

“That’s a beautiful pole name,” she said.

“Pole name?” I said.

“Oh it’s like a stage name. Like Chilli is my pole name but I’m going to change it legally,” she said .

The first thing that we were asked to do was to get upside down on the pole. My jaw dropped as soon as Chilli asked us to do it.

We gave it a few goes, obviously no one was able to do it as gracefully as Chilli, but no one broke an arm or a leg. Then Chilli, a jazz ballet-trained dancer, took us to this term’s routine – “Kiss Kiss” by Chris Brown. It was a slow, sexy routine with a lot of hip turns, head rolls and back-archings.

Though I was having a lot of fun, I couldn’t follow the routine because I hadn’t been dancing for way too long; while everyone lay on the floor, I was still on the pole doing my own funky stuff. But Roxy, 28, on my left was completely at ease. She was a ballet dancer, singer and actress. She worked with Chilli years ago while Chilli was the store manager of a cosmetics brand. They were one of the first groups to sign up at Bobbi’s. But then Roxy went overseas for a few years while Chilli went all the way to become a teacher.

“Why did you start pole dancing, Chilli?” I asked.

“When I first started, I just thought it’d be a bit more fun, and a way to get fit. And also, the appeal of doing something naughty, doing what strippers do,” said Chilli.

“Do you strip?” I said.

“Only if you ask me nicely,” she said with a wink. “Stripping and pole dancing are completely separate.”

But every now and again, she would do it just for fun – like flashing the window-cleaning dude during teacher training.  The guy then went down, grabbed his mate and came back up again.

For the first lesson, I was wearing a tank top and a pair of shorts. Others were dressing similarly – nothing more revealing than singlets and undies.

Seven weeks had passed and today was our performance class. I invited a girl friend from university, while Roxy invited her mum. Only four girls showed up at this noon class today.

In the routine, there was a move where we were supposed to take our tops off. I had a singlet on top of my sport bra – just in case I was actually brave enough to strip.

On our first go, only Roxy, who had short blonde hair and a voluptuous body, took her top off. Everybody cheered. “Yeah! At least 25 percent of the class are strippers!” said Chilli.

On our second go, I was like “what the hell!”, so I joined Roxy and took my top off. Everyone laughed. Chilli, now a proud teacher, said “great! 50 percent of the class are strippers now!”

After receiving my certificate from Chilli, I could move up to intermediate level two.

Sassy, a sweet and petite lady with curly brown hair and a fairy tattoo on her left shoulder, was my teacher for the term. I couldn’t locate a piece of fat on her but she talked about food constantly.

This term’s routine was “Free your mind” by En Vogue, a funkier, faster and more fun routine. While Sassy was rummaging in her mind to see if we should step left-right-left or right-left-right, the studio door was opened and I saw the reflection of a woman with long sleek blonde hair walking in.

“Hey Bobbi! You come at the right time,” said Sassy. Bobbi, the Bobbi of Bobbi’s Pole Studio, choreographed all the routines of all levels.

So, Bobbi does exist. The fact that you are more likely to see her in videos and photos than at the studio adds enigma to this Australian pole dancing legend.

Bobbi, 42, opened the studio – the first of its kind in Australia – with Vanessa, 39, in 2003. Before then, she had been a cabaret dancer for many years. With her talents in jazz ballet, exotic dancing and choreography, and Vanessa’s business acumen, they turned the tiny pole dancing school from a two-pole facility in a dodgy massage parlour into an empire that consists of six studios across Australia and Asia, the annual Miss Pole Dance Australia competition, Bobbi TV, pole dancing DVDs, merchandise, and Bobbi’s Babes – an entertainers agency.

For two years in a row, the studio was voted Studio of the Year by International Pole Dance Fitness Association.

Bobbi didn’t teach regularly anymore – she spent most of her time and effort on training teachers and choreography. And Bobbi’s choreography was one of the most important things that set the studio apart from the others.

“I’m exotic-dancer-trained, always have been, and that’s my input into what we do, is very sexual and very sensual and I like it, and the students seems to like that,” said Bobbi.

Some students also said Bobbi’s routines were not just sexy but classy. “I think that’s my dance background jumping in there. I can be sexy but I still know the correct posture to be sexy so that it’s not offensive to anyone.”

Sassy guided us throughout the routine with encouragements such as, “Girls you’ve done well!” “Chicky, that’s great!”. She was so warm and sweet that I couldn’t imagine why she was called Sassy.

But Vanessa recalled, in one of the Miss Pole Dance Australia competitions, a drunk contestant who was disqualified because she was drunk punched Bobbi in the face. “Sassy, beautiful, little, pretty Australian, such a lady, got this girl in a headlock, which was really cool,” said Vanessa.

In the middle of this term, we moved from this six-year-old studio to a new one at a more prominent location – right on Elizabeth Street, across Hyde Park. “This has to be THE studio that everyone envies,” said Bobbi.

The theme of the studio is black clashing with sharp pink and sparkles everywhere. On top of the reception, there’s a 42” plasma TV playing Bobbi’s DVDs. Apart from adding a third room to the studio, the biggest improvement of the new studio is that the toilets are now on the same floor as the studio – we no longer need to walk down two floors in our undies to go to the loo.

We, students, were so used to walking in our undies and bras to the toilets that the studio actually had to put up signs to ask us get dressed before we step outside. We don’t want to give those Greek grandfathers walking up and down the stairs in the Hellenic House heart attacks, don’t we?

So, we had our week-eight performance at the new studio and I invited, another girl friend from university. Tonight, I was wearing a black sport bra and my favorite pair of Bond undies. Like a lot of students here, I was getting more and more confident with my body.

I was having a lot of fun and I was starting to shrug off my unease of performing in front of strangers. But I did hope that guy in front of the mirror didn’t think I was flirting with him while I’m doing a series of body rolls  – I was simply checking myself out at the mirror.

After the show, I made it to intermediate level three and Cleo was my teacher. Cleo was 5’9”, and with a pair of six-inch heels, her legs are bloody long. She was the drummer, the capoeira chick, the pole dancing prodigy – she was crowned the champion of Miss Pole Dance Australia only after a little more than four years on the pole. She moved from Melbourne to join Bobbi’s in January 2009.

“When I came to Bobbi’s, I got myself a stage name [Cleo]. I think learning from Bobbi herself and training with all the other teachers just kind of really moulded me to where I’m now. I’m a lot different… a year has made such a difference. I’m just like another person now. Everything, my levels of tricks, as well as the way that I dance, and my individual style, are a lot different,” said Cleo.

“I’ve always aspired to the a Bobbi’s girl, because I thought Bobbi’s girls are the best in the world. Always. I used to go on YouTube all the time, look at their videos.”

This term’s routine is “Sexy Bitch” by David Guetta. I love it. It’s acrobatic, sexy and naughty. Cleo shows us the routine and she radiates energy and power. I envy her presence.

Even though my probability of pulling the whole routine off is less than 50 percent after seven weeks of training, I still invite six friends to come to my performance, because I simply love the routine too much. Bravest of all, I invite the guy that I’m sort of seeing.

Tonight is a big night because three levels are performing together. Chilli, in a set of red-hot lingerie with silk ribbons, dazzles the crowd without even dancing. “Oh my god, Chilli is so hot,” says James Lie, my 21-year-old guy friend, who is exactly within Chilli’s toy boy range.

To capture the essence of “Sexy Bitch”, I’m wearing a black bikini top with diamontes and a pair of purple sequin hot pants. With my sparkling silver stripper heels, I’m ready.

I swing myself into a spinning climb, dangle my body with just two hands close to my chest. When the lyrics hit “whore”, I flip myself upside down and spread my legs wide to form an inverted “V”. I then hook my left knee on the pole, pressed my right hip forward against the pole, arched my back, drop my head and let my hands go – just hanging there with my left leg. Now the lyrics hit “disrespectful”, I swing my right leg forward with pointed toes, and swap my left leg with my right into a right-leg hang on the pole. I let myself go, feeling the rush of adrenaline, blood and oxygen into my head, and the lightness of my hands.

When we get to the chorus “damn, you’re sexy bitch, a sexy bitch”, we lean our bodies forward on the pole, stick our bums out, bend and straighten our legs one at a time. The crowd goes crazy. “Shake that booty Ariel!” my friends shout.

I feel so damn good. I’m one hell of a sexy bitch tonight.