Don’t get me wrong but I don’t think I’ve ever seen Peter Stringfellow when he wasn’t wearing a thong. But that was in the papers, of course, not in the flesh (so to speak). It was still a bit of a shock to see Mr Stringfellow wearing a pinstripe suit when he came to Westminster yesterday. Still, all else about him was as expected: the grey-blond hair that crept over the collar, the tinted shades, the aura of loucheness that clung to him like a starlet on a sugar-daddy’s arm.
The Culture, Media and Sport Committee’s session on lap dancing had attracted an odd crowd. There was Mr Stringfellow, a former dancer named Nadine Stravonia de Montagnac, and a beautiful woman who went by the name of Solitaire. She gave me her card that showed her, head thrown to one side, dark hair cascading, in a dress split to the thigh and beyond. Did she have a last name? “I just go by Solitaire,” she said sultrily with an enigmatic smile as if she were in a Bond movie or something.
First up was Nadine Stravonia de Montagnac (we never did get to the bottom of that name) and a woman from a group called Object who, not surprisingly, objected to just about everything. “We should call a spade a spade,” said Nadine, who had a permanent pout about her face. She’d been a dancer of eight years and thought the clubs should be classified as “sex encounter establishments” and licensed as such....read more
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