The electric and intimate memoir of a person who spent ten years as a stripper.
This Is My Real Name is the memoir of Cid V Brunet, who spent ten years working as a dancer at strip clubs, using the name Michelle. From her very first lap dance in a small-town bar to her work at high-end clubs, Michelle learns she must follow the unspoken rules that will allow her to succeed in the competitive industry. Along the way, she and her co-workers encounter compelling clients and unreasonable bosses and navigate their own relationships to drugs and alcohol. Michelle and her friends rely on each other's camaraderie and strength in an industry that can be both toxic and deeply rewarding.
Intensely personal, This Is My Real Name demystifies stripping as a career with great respect and candour, while at the same time exploring the complex, sex-positive relationships (queer and otherwise) that make it meaningful.
A page-turning memoir about the author's ten years working as a stripper in different parts of Canada. I found it a fascinating window into a world I didn't know much about beforehand. Brunet portrays their experiences as complicated: cutthroat and toxic on the one hand, fulfilling and freeing on the other.
I would have liked more depth to the relationships (working and otherwise) they had with fellow strippers, as well as a bit more on the rewarding angle. It felt like the memoir told me more than showed me that side of Brunet's stripping career. I don't know, maybe the bad stuff makes for better stories / is more memorable?
There are some lovely turns of phrase as well as interesting insights about gender, queerness, and capitalism. Definitely recommended!
Content warning for sexual assault and drug / alcohol use.
I was worried that reading a book subtitled “a stripper’s memoir,” would feel voyeuristic, even exploitative. But Cid V Brunet doesn’t let that happen. Instead, the book is an education in empathy. Like the author’s alter ego, Michelle, the book is at once tough and vulnerable, and constantly negotiating boundaries, and setting you straight when needed.
The people I know who got to read this book before I did all said they couldn’t put it down. I couldn’t either, and while I find that experience is usually driven by a plot full of mystery and cliffhangers, in this case, I think it’s the simultaneous ease and beauty of Brunet’s writing. This is an overused phrase, but it truly was just a pleasure to read this book. Every other page, I was struck by a metaphor or turn of phrase so vivid and apt that I had to just pause and appreciate the poetry and truth of what I just read. Despite the frequency with which this happened, the book never felt overwrought or cliché, just satisfyingly *full*.
I learned so much from this book: about the world and complexities of stripping and sex work in general, about gender and sexism and labour and patriarchy and power, about myself, and about writing, and reading.
You should read this book. Cid V. Brunet has been able to weave together so many crucial parts of their life into a work that feels immediate, important and unapologetic. Tackling the emotional, physical, economic and political aspects of sex work, it leaves the reader with a glimpse into an oft maligned and dismissed form of labour - of work. The personal shines through and the book doesn't shy away from the dangerous, stressful and at times traumatic realities that sex workers face. This is a book that doesn't mince words and incorporates an unapologetic fierceness but also realness, tenderness and reflectiveness. It grips the reader with it's breadth of emotional impact and the ability to draw the reader into the world of Michelle and the culture of sex work.
A wide range of characters help to support a narrative that spans a variety of locations and contexts and serves to give the reader a glimpse into a specific slice of the world of sex work. Brunet is careful and intentional in the way they frame this as a particular set of experiences, and not as a representation of all the different ways that sex work plays out. But they gesture to these other realities as well, keenly aware of their particular position as writer and actor and the implications that come along with it. In this way, 'This Is My Real Name' tells it's own set of stories, while also pushing the reader to continue to seek out the other complex stories that are so not often told as well.
It's poetic and tender but isn't afraid to call out what is so often shrouded in silence. Patriarchy, heterosexism, hierarchies of race, ability and body-type, abusive bosses, exploitative workplaces and a culture of violent misogyny are made all the more real and personal here. But not without the power of those who continue to resist. To stake out work on their own terms, for themselves and their bodies and their hearts. This is a book that needs to be read but then taken further - to consider how we value the labour, the bodies, the emotions and the autonomy of others. It gives you a glimpse through Michelle's eyes but asks you to question the assumptions about how you see the world as well. An absolute page turner and one of a select few books that is difficult to put down.
This book is beautiful, heartbreaking, and honest. It was impossible to put down. Sex work is so often portrayed as simple- something easy to judge or write off as purely exploitative. This book blows simplicity right out of the water, opening a window into a decade of both interpersonal and intrapersonal complexity. Brunet dives deep into a story of hard-won learning, relationship development, and personal growth.
While I tend to be suspicious of books by people who say they're anarchist, especially when the book involves something that is provocative (at least for some) like sexwork, this was indeed what it purports to be, which is a memoir, in vignettes, by an anarchist doing sexwork. It's not a book about anarchism, but about an anarchist working a job that is difficult (and rewarding). There are two things that stand out to me about this book. One, the way the memories are shared--so many memoirs I have read involve people telling the stories of their past in full, fleshed-out detail, as if they remember exactly what they (and others!) were thinking, etc. This, because it was in vignettes, just seemed more authentic to me (that could be just me though). The other significant thing about this book is that it excellently walks the difficult line of talking about sexwork in a way that is appreciative of what it's good for, while not downplaying how it's hard and sometimes toxic. Overwhelmingly, conversations about sexwork come down on one side or the other (sexworkers are all victims vs sexworkers are empowered priestesses--to encapsulate two versions of the simplified, binary arguments). So books like these by people who understand and can express how it can absolutely be the best option available, while still not being awesome or healthy, are really helpful to a better level of conversation.
Note: I have heard that some strippers don't think that stripping should be called sexwork, and maybe not all stripping is. The kind of stripping talked about in this book certainly deserves to be called SW, however.
this is my real name is one of my favourite memoirs i’ve read this year. it’s deeply personal and political, a really compelling & nuanced exploration of sex work in canada.
the book chronicles brunet’s decade long career as a stripper, following her from working in small town bars to high ends clubs. it’s a reallllly fascinating examination of labour & gender performance. something that i really took away from the narrative was the sheer emotional labour that goes into sex work, on top of the physical labour of dancing
i thought brunet offered a really interesting perspective as someone who is queer and poly, and also as a woman who deals with an eating disorder. the experience of being a sex worker is nuanced and complex, and she never claims to speak for sex workers as a homogenous group. i appreciated the ways in which she consistently situated her privilege within the industry as a thin, able-bodied white woman.
this is truly an amazing addition to the growing collection of work written by sex workers in canada, and i highly recommend it if you’re interested in reading more about the topic
An amazingly relevent and necessarily personal memoir of a decade spent in the strip club industry.
Cid V. Brunet writes with an unapologetic honesty as they take the reader through the many facets of life as a dancer. This comprehensive memoir explores the physical and emotional to the dangerous and traumatic sides of sex work, but also the comradery with fellow sex workers, gender, queerness and the economical and political sides of this industry as well.
I was in awe while reading this book. My second in depth about this industry. The world needs books like this, real, raw unflinching accounts of this profession. Brunet makes you see the people behind the curtain, through a lense of compassionate instead of a shameful one as is society's accustomed stigma.
I seriously cant reccomend this one enough, one of my favorites of 2021!
Thank you to @arsenalpulp & @zgstories for sending me this book opinions are my own.
I am thrilled to help welcome This Is My Real Name to the ever-growing and utterly necessary genre of sex worker authored memoir. By page fifteen, Brunet observes the pragmatic motivation to leave underpaid restaurant kitchens and dangerous roofing jobs and become a dancer. Their passage from rough labour to sex work is one that, in spite of the stigma, secures them an above minimum-wage income. But what is it like to work in the heavy veiled career of stripping? With uncompromising detail, Brunet tours us through the both the labyrinthine and the mundane. Pay particular attention to their acute use of dialogue. What is said in the club reveals binary gender-performance, toxic masculinity and fragility, as well as feminist understandings, labour justice and an overall nimble emotional intelligence.
this was such a fascinating and insightful book - i read the entire thing in one day and could not put it down. it details the author's experiences as a queer stripper, both positive and negative, without ever straying into shame or judgment. i found it incredibly refreshing to read about sex work from the pov of an actual sex worker, something i would love to see more of as there are so many misconceptions about the industry. while cid brunet unabashedly discusses the toxic side of the scene, from the culture of addiction to encounters with every kind of misogyny, they also bring to light how empowering it can be. sex work can be a way for often marginalized and underprivileged people to find financial freedom and reclaim their sexuality, something that is seen in the author's encounter with a fellow stripper named kiki, who mentions that they started stripping because they're going to be fetishized for being asian anyways and would like to at least profit from it.
i appreciated that the author also repeatedly acknowledges their own privilege and reminds us that one voice does not encompass the whole of the sex work experience and that her experience as a thin, white, able-bodied person is informed by that privilege. this was a brutal, heavy read at times, but a necessary one that i really enjoyed.
Cid V. Brunet is brutally honest in telling the story of her life. I never felt she held back or left anything out. It must have been very hard for her to relive some of the moments as she wrote. Many parts of the book are quite emotional. I love how she never apologizes for the life she led or took any time to feel sorry for herself.
I really enjoyed this book and found her life outside the clubs as compelling to read as her work inside. A book definitely worth reading.
Was really interesting to hear a story from such a different life. My 2022 goal is to immerse myself in stories and perspectives different from my own.
The honest insight is captivating; I read this one fairly quickly. Instantly, I became engrossed by the story. The world is as mesmerizing as you’d expect and the notes on queerness, femininity, and feminism are a welcomed perspective into a scene so misunderstood and stereotyped. The literary craft nerd in me delighted in the use of form, at parts the short sections mimicking the experience of working as a dancer as a stip club; fragmented encounters, frequent and often curt, left me feeling disoriented floating through busy weekends—in a good way like I too was experiencing the dissociation needed to survive with my body still my own.
Brunet has written a book that is fast paced & draws you in. The short vignettes in some chapters capture the breadth of individuals who work in, as well as patronize strip clubs. With few words, Brunet is able to conjure up clear images of the rooms and the characters included in this memoir. As well the author captures a internal processing, growing confidence as well as disillusionment over time. Brunet is bold & fearless in sharing their experiences both with other strippers and with the clients. This book is a window into sex work, yet Brunet is careful to point out that theirs is just one experience among many. I recommend you read this.
Cid Brunet provides insight into a world few of us will ever experience. The writing is excellent bringing the reader quickly into the novel making it very difficult to put down. Courageous and talented author.
A beautiful, honest, and brave memoir I couldn't put down. The explorations of the expected beauty standards within the sex industry and how it affected Michelle and other strippers is an important conversation. Unfortunately I saw that fat phobia seep into character descriptions as clients with fat bodies were being invited to be seen as disgusting or undesirable. I'm bored of the vilabization of fat bodies and have disapointed to see that narrative being reinforced. That being said overall this was a thoughtful, beautifully written memoir.
I think it was a great glimpse into the life of a stripper. Simple short almost diary like entires of the days and moments. It explains more of the mindset and life of someone who has chosen to do sex work. Not all sex work is trafficking and this explains the side of sex work that’s not. Also has queer relationships represented as well.
This is very easy to read. It's told in snippets and gives you little insights into what working as a stripper is like. The relationships, work dynamics, and industry dynamics are all very interesting. Despite it not reading like a story, it carries a nice narrative arc. Definitely recommend!
It brought me into a world I had never experienced and managed to evoke profound emotions I wasn't expecting. At different times i cried from despair, from rage and from joy. This book definitely deserves to jump right to the top of your reading list!
"I've read better stripper memoirs" is a weird review, but I have read better stripper memoirs. Brunet is into leftist/liberal politics and I thought there would be a more in-depth discussion about how sex work fits into feminism but she just sort of skims over it. I also felt like she just sort of skims over a lot of things--her mental illness, her drug abuse, and her relationship with her boyfriend. The vast majority of the book is--she and a friend travel to a strip club to work, they do drugs and fight, she is insecure about her body, the customers and the managers are mean. There are so interesting bits but it is very repetitive.
For those seeking out an honest and eye-opening story about the world of strip clubs, then THIS IS MY REAL NAME, is certainly a book you should adding to your must-read list. The author was more than tired of being part of very low-paying work, deciding one day that joining the stripper’s world would be something both different and more than challenging. She decided to take the name Michelle, which began an almost decades ventures into the world of stripping, and those who were part of that trade. It was not a business that came easily or naturally for her. It took a time getting used to, especially the men who paid money to watch the girls give private lap dances and the like. To say it was at times a sort of cutthroat business, was not far from the truth. There were rivalries and jealousies that were part and parcel of the business, because at times it was every stripper for themselves, as they fought for the almighty dollar that men stuck into their hands and into their lingerie. The book follows this journey from one strip club to another, from the somewhat seediest to some that would be considered as a little higher class. But the end game was always the same, the women bending over backwards literally, to get their fair share of the nightly revenue. Some of the owners of these establishments were not the easiest to deal with, their own biases and agendas definitely blatantly obvious. In the business, MIchelle created close friendships with some of the other workers, and also steered clear of some who definitely were not feeling any form of kinship, but rather saw them as rivals. There is in-depth talk of some of the men who were part of the clientele. There is even mention of one man who Michelle thought was going to go on a buying spree to get her a nice purse, but when she chose it and went to the cashier, he would not pay for it because they weren’t to that phase of their relationship. The book tells all, including the drug use, alcohol issues, how the body is perceived, and how looks mean more money. It results in a fascinating and honest view of strip clubs, and the workers and customers who are part of this world.
This was a quick read. As a Canadian reader who has travelled to and lived in several of the cities the author writes about it is always interesting to take in a different perception of the spaces. How Cid wrote about Vancouver in particular resonated in some ways but also was experienced very differently as they were viewing Vancouver though a very different lens. Their observations regarding how sex work is perceived, the misogynistic environment of sex clubs, employers singular definition of what patrons look for in terms of aesthetics, the safety of sex workers, the all too frequently occurring traumatic experiences one must compartmentalize to do this type of work, the unhealthy coping strategies and how all of this ripples out into their personal relationships are very thoughtfully rendered in their writing. I think the think I found most surprising is for someone who is so aware and passionate about progressive issues they seemed to have missed opportunities of self reflection and awareness when it came to how their drug use (self medicating and abuse of opioids) might be impacting their mental health and the ability to maintain overall stability of their life at that time. I don’t know what their relationship with drugs are now and this is not a criticism of that but I imagine that their drug use and perhaps dependency made their experiences more complicated than what was actually represented in their writing. Regardless of that minor observation the book was easy to read in short bursts or long stretches and I would recommend it as the perfect thoughtful hammock or dock read this summer. Cid is perfectly imperfect and their raw, unfiltered, thoughts and recounting of her experience as a sex worker is profoundly honest in a way that has you cheering for a win but also sharing in their heartbreak when they can not reconcile their personal values and the often toxic strip club culture, forcing them to end their career as a stripper on terms that up until the very end of the book, do not feel like their own terms.
Congratulations to a beautifully, complex, entertaining and thought provoking read. Michelle will live forever within these pages.
This is defintely a world I know nothing at all about, and on that score, it was a fascinating read. The author covers lots of interesting ground that has the potential to really shift the way people look at come aspects of our world, particularly as it relates to: sex work; gender and sexuality; gendered power relations (the ‘patriarchy’) and mysogyny; body image (esp ‘fatphobia’); mental health and addictions; and, race and privilege.
But at the same time as it was fascinating, it felt a little like being a voyeur… and I was most definitely uncomfortable watching her at some of her most vulnerable and darkest moments… not that books shouldn’t make you uncomfortable, but this was so intimate… Definitely unsettling beyond my comfort zone at times. Is that a good thing? Or a bad thing? Or, just a thing? Or, just my thing, get over it? I don’t know…
I did find the structure somewhat ‘formulaic’ in that each chapter dealt with their time at a particular club in a particular city, and went through the key elements of what happened during each of those gigs. In other words… it got very repetitive. I also found that, the further we get into the book, the more they use the dialogue as opportunities to preach their key messages, over and over again. This really began to grate on me by the time I was about ⅔ of the way through.
I also struggled with that so much of what she has to say is conveyed in the form of dialogue. I get that this is a memoir - distinct from an auto/biography - and that it is about ‘remembering, reminiscing, and reflecting’... but how does someone possibly remember all of these episodes/instances/conversations with the kind of clarity that comes across in the book. I have trouble remembering what I had for breakfast most days! Yes, they are much younger than I am…
All in all, an absorbing read, and well worth the time spent reading it.
Memoir. By someone who is part of southern Ontario/Montreal anarchist networks, about their decade working as a stripper. Rich and nuanced, vehemently refusing the caricatured understandings held by many who do not do this work. As the backbone of the book, uses fragments, moments, nights, weekends extracted from their time at the various clubs where they worked, creating a rhythm to the narrative and a depth to its portrayal through repetition, return, novelty, evolution, abrupt shifts, and hangs the different periods defining the overall story on that framework. For the most part, finds ways to educate without being too didactic, to show in a grounded way the sharp edges, the hard moments, the exhilarating moments, the satisfying moments, the gendered power and fragile toxic men, the warm friendships and solidarities...though there were a few spots towards the end where the frequently (and, for the most part, well-) used device of dialogue between the author and their friends/colleagues/clients became a bit more clunky and less organic. Wouldn't have minded a deeper exploration of some of the relationships that the author touches on, particularly with their colleagues, though I can see how that sort of focused, specific depth would've required it to be a different kind of book, and might have detracted from its (fairly successful) effort to convey the messy complexity of the experience as a whole. Not always an easy read, but a powerful and fascinating one.
The dancer known as Michelle shares tidbits from their 10 years of experience dancing in strip clubs across Canada.
This highly readable memoir scratched the anthropology itch in the best way. Unlike more conventional memoirs, we skip the world building and character backgrounds; instead we get excerpts that feel like candid journal entries. I didn't mind this style, but I can see how some others might find it a bit shallow and some of the stories repetitive. Life's like that sometimes.
What did wear on me was Michelle's white guilt, which felt so overbearing at times it distracted from the stories. I wish they were able to share their experiences with a bit less of it. At times, I felt like I was reading a Tumblr blog. It was hard not to skim when those pages would come up. I had to remind myself that for someone like Michelle—into the punk scene, queer, and in a non-monogamous relationship with a trans man—thinking this way 24/7 might just be the norm, exhausting as it may be.
I would have loved more insight into what they genuinely loved about stripping, beyond the fast money and flexible hours. There’s a point when Michelle’s body is rebelling against going to work, but it takes a lot for them to stop dancing. This was confusing, since much of the memoir touched on the body image issues, violence, drug abuse, etc brought on by the industry. A deeper look into what made this lifestyle so compelling might have helped me understand that pull better.
This was a really honest memoir about the realities of a Canadian stripper and all that comes along with it. Cid V. Brunet talks about how they started stripping, why they chose this job, how they felt about it (and all the judgement that unfortunately that others have about it), maintaining a serious relationship with this job, and all the daily situations they faced. It was cool to hear about Brunet's views on gender, sexuality, and especially how it all ties to feminism and having the freedom to choose and question societal norms. Because of their modern/forward thinking, it sometimes felt as if Brunet was educating us at the same time as entertaining us, which I really liked. It touched on the flaws and the corruption in the stripping field, and in the sex work field in general, and like most other jobs, how the ones at the top get more and work less than the ones doing the real work. Brunet also wrote about the drug use that they and others used and how it became a necessity because of the working conditions - which I'm not surprised about. They shared a lot about their struggles with mental health and how by the time the book was ending, they were getting therapy and on a new path. A thoughtful perspective by/about a stripper who worked for about 10 years in Canadian strip clubs. 5/5
There are lots of interesting stories in this memoir, and Brunet clearly has the ability to craft beautiful sentences and paragraphs, but I wanted so much more from this than just a collection of stories. I would have loved to hear more about their life before they started doing sex work, so that I could better understand why they chose to do it. I also wanted some sense of personal growth or lessons learned from the experience over the course of the memoir - the only apparent difference between Cid at the beginning of the book and the end seemed to be that they were older and no longer able to deal with the negatives of the profession. I am really interested to see what they will come up with in 5-10 years, as they have a very unique voice and an abundance of writing skill, and I suspect they will be able to tell their story with more depth and insight with the benefit of more maturity and self reflection.
Believe it or not, I'm a male who has been to strip clubs fewer than five times in my life. I find them a pointless exercise in the pursuit of happiness. But I've known a few women who worked in clubs and reflect fondly on their time there. Recently, I introduced a character in my novels who came from the strip clubs before joining my vigilante-hero. So I researched her character via memoirs (since my wife laughed hysterically at my suggestion I should research in person ... at my age).
Ms. Brunet did not write a salacious report which might've sold better, but rather an honest, blemish-filled recalling of good and bad times in the industry. Her prose is vivid and her approach to the subject is unfailing to her sisters and clients in the industry. I'm no expert on how truthful her story is, but it seems as real as one could ever hope for.
I sincerely hope Ms. Brunet will continue writing. The bookshelves need voices like hers.
this book was so amazing. I learned so much from the author and appreciate the approach they took to this deep dive, calling out the misogyny and awful occurrences while still consistently naming their privilege in the industry. I’m angry at the people in the industry and society that allow oppressive tactics to thrive in these spaces. Sex work is real work and these people should be respected. I really loved the way the story was Weaved together through anecdotes to paint such a vivid picture of what a sex worker might go through during their career. I feel like I got to see the good and the ugly— why people love what they do but also the dark moments where I was so upset for these people. Overhaul would recommend to anyone who understand sex work is valid work or to anyone who wants to learn more about the industry from a leftist/very aware POV.