Monday 28 June 2010

Journalists and Justice


Greetings, I'm back home following my trip to Inverness and it was fantastic, lovely clients and sunshine but made all the better by the craic I had with Amanda and Susan. Next month Ellie Lloyd is joining the three of us there, so it will be good to switch off our phones at the end of the day and go for dinner.

I finally got to meet the journalist who had contacted me, what a lovely lady. Kirstin Innes is an arts journalist and usually writes about film, visual art and theatre for The Scotsman, The Herald, The Independent and The List. She has decided to write a fictional novel about a woman who decides to become an escort and so wanted to do some research. ( I have her permission to share that with you ). I hope I was able to help in some way, and to be honest it was more like meeting a friend for lunch, good fun. All the very best Kirstin, I look forward to reading it and I'm holding you to the promise of a signed copy. :)

On Wednesday Thierry Schaffauser wrote a very honest and thought provoking article for the Guardian entitled "Whorephobia affects all women", the link is here :

http://www.guardian.co.uk/commentisfree/2010/jun/23/sex-workers-whorephobia

In particular I liked these paragraphs -

"Whorephobia can be defined as the fear or the hate of sex workers. Sex workers like me would argue that it also embraces paternalistic attitudes that deem us a public nuisance, spreaders of disease, offenders against decency or unskilled victims who don't know what is good for them and who need to be rescued.

In its most violent form, whorephobia kills. Sex workers are far more likely to be murdered than the rest of the population: the recent killings in Bradford are the most recent and saddening example. However, it would be a mistake to think that sex workers are the only targets of these murderers. Attackers often target sex workers because they look like easier prey. Sometimes it is only once a non-sex worker is killed that the police take an investigation seriously. Until sex workers are safe, no woman is safe."


Well said and I absolutely agree. The more we are legislated against, the more we are marginalised, the greater the stigma. As it stands I frequently meet gents who think that prostitution is illegal, it isn't. If society perceive what we do to be against the law, then what hope do we have of attaining our deserved status ?

Unfortunately I was touring and so couldn't get my teeth into the "Comment is free" section after the article, as per usual some of the posts got my blood boiling. Take this little gem ;

"Does any man want their wife, mother or daughter to unite with prostitutes and fight against (alleged) oppression?"

If the Bradford killer had gone on to kill his wife, mother or daughter, he'd be the first person to be shouting for justice. As for "alleged" oppression, consider the case of Hanna Morris, charged with managing a brothel or controlling prostitution for gain after she reported a serious attack. She faces up to seven years in prison.
Two identifiable men, one with a sawn-off shotgun up his sleeve, barged in, threw petrol about threatening to torch the premises and to hold the woman there against her will. But we'll forget about all that and just charge the madam, hmmm ? If that's not considered oppression then we really need to review our definitions.

In fact, following on from the excellent post by Elrond on Punternet, I urge everyone who reads my blog to write or call Portia Ragnauth, Chief Prosecutor Surrey CPS. Ask why women’s safety is being endangered in this way.


LL xx

Sunday 20 June 2010

Thursday 17 June 2010

Blogs and Boobies


Good evening and greetings from Newcastle where I landed today having done battle with every trucker and caravan from here to Swansea, grrr. It's summer time again, and although it's infinitely preferable to driving on snow and ice, it's still a pain in my not inconsiderable backside. ( Yes I know that's a double negative. )

I've spent a lot of time lately speaking about what I do, and my role as an escort. That in itself has caused some cog turning in the semi-complex machine just behind my forehead. An actress got in touch with me, because she is writing a play about working girls and wanted to do some research. So we met for coffee. ( I was fashionably late of course ).

I have to be honest, some of the questions she asked me were quite gritty. She said that I come across as a party girl in my blog and a really good laugh. Erm, I am. She also said that she could find very little reference to the other facets of my life, such as studying and family. The truth is that when I started writing this blog, I didn't know what I hoped to achieve really, you could say it's all marketing but for me it's a blank canvas on which to paint whatever comes to the forefront of my mind. I've never made any secret of the fact I'm a Mum, and an adoring one at that, but I think there's only so much to be discussed on a publicly visible blog so as to be appropriate. There are other aspects of my private life which I've never discussed on my blog, and probably never will. C'est la vie.

Continuing in that vein, this week I'm meeting a journalist who is writing a book on the sex industry. Panic not, I have been reassured that she is looking to speak to me for the purposes of research only and has no interest in "outing" anyone. I've learned over time that actually, some members of the press are very much on our side, or at least want to give us a voice. If I can help in any way I will, because I would rather that we were portrayed in a realistic light, rather than a stereotypical one.

Aside from all of that, I hit the shower the other morning to do my ritualistic handstand before setting off to meet a client. I recently bought some lemon shower gel which is divine and I was enjoying lathering it up until I felt it. I wasn't certain at first, but after a further prod I confirmed what I thought originally. It was a lump, right there in my breast. "No biggie", I thought, "I'll make an appointment with my GP. It feels rather like a pea anyway so it's probably just a swollen gland."

So I hot footed it down to my GP, my new doc is a lady and wonderful.

"I can feel what you mean, it's very hard."

"I know, it's almost like a pea."

"Hmmm, yes. I wouldn't be too concerned about it to be honest, more the mass behind it."

"WHAT MASS ??"

"Please don't panic, I'm sending you to the breast clinic. 2 to 3 weeks for an appointment."

So that's where I'm at. Sure, it could be nowt, and probably is. I phoned my Mother to ask about a history of breast cancer in our family and she assured me that there is no history at all, only madness.

"Only the good die young, you'll be fine."

Cheers Mother.

Nite,

LL xx

Thursday 10 June 2010