Purple Diary

[January 5 2015]

Vegas and She by Stefanie Moshammer

Las Vegas is the strip club capital of the world. Nowhere else are coming so many women just to dance and to make money. They keep Vegas moving, keep it pushing, the inside that keeps alive the outside. The city is like a fast pumping heart and this heart doesn’t only give love. It’s a place full of mystery, wonder and myth.

These photos are a behind the scenes portrait of striptease dancers in Las Vegas. It’s also a report of circumstances, evidences, an indication of love and sorrow. The areas where these dancers work are constructed spaces that rely on illusion, fantasy, and desire. The girls in this exotic world are constructed the same way and so are the rooms.

“You never tell your real name to people in the club,” they are saying. That’s why the girls give themselves a stage name. Tiania calls herself Toni, Shannon calls herself Hunter, Raye is called Sybill, Jacinda’s name is Helo, Erika is Cory, Natalie is called Lela.

They are creating an artificial identity, an idealised version of men’s desire. “I just got twins,” Toni said. That’s what she called her new breasts she got a few weeks ago. She was excited to show them finally because she hadn’t worked the last weeks to recover from surgery. “Bigger tits, bigger money.” It was her first time in Vegas and she only stayed for the weekend. It was a good weekend to make money, a big boxing fight was happening and people from all over the world travelled to see it. “They bring the money,” she said.

Vegas is comedy, tragedy, happiness and sadness and it comes all in one. When you meet Vegas once you feel like you are standing on the edge of a very tall cliff. If you fall, you fall into a jungle of madness. Vegas, who is it but a desert breeze. A hot, wild breeze. Text and Photo Stefanie Moshammer

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