Roxanne (strippers collection)
Place of birth: San Francisco, California (USA)
Roxanne was an orphan that grew in the streets of San Francisco.
Despite being quite bright at school, the current system, jobs and social ladder seemed to hold very few value in her eyes.
Her tutors stopped couting the amount of times that the Police had to escort her back to her orphanage after being arrested for tagging, illegal motorbikes races and general public spaces disturbances with dance contests.
People always described her as a "free electron", her own mind being the only apparent judge of what she was entitled to do, lawful or not.
It was after passing in front of the tainted glass of a strip club and seeing the neons depicting some gals in various erotic poses that a wild spark of curiosity awoke in her.
She snuck her way inside through the backdoor after being rejected by the bouncer for her punk look and there she discovered everything she didnt know she loved: spotlights, hypnotic bass music, neons everywhere, people drinking and having what seemed to be the time of their lives spectating some women twirling around poles and stripping their clothes away.
She knew deep inside her that this was what she wanted to do.
Not a dull corporate job, pushing papers from 8 to 5, obeying an abusive boss like a good girl for a handful of peanuts at the end of the month.
"Boobs. Alcohol. No one giving a shit. This is heaven." she thought.
As such, she stormed into the manager office, requesting to apply as a dancer and start right away.
He looked at her dumbfounded: "but.. you want to start like... 'right now', kind of right now?"
Roxanne was almost jumping into place hearing the muffled club basses, almost as if they were calling to her. She read diagonally then promptly signed the contract that the manager clumsily pulled from one of his drawers.
"Dont worry, you wont have to pay me for this first week, take it as a trial period!" she said above her shoulder, already running backstage.
"But miss, you dont even have a costume yet!" shouted a visibly still-confused manager.
"Eh, I'll improvise." she said to herself.
As such, she arrived in front of a large mirror in the backroom, ignoring the looks of the other dancers, and she started taking off her biker jacket riddled with sewn patches, ripped shorts and paint-stained T-shirt. She however kept on her goth high heels, leather underwear and cap.
Thus was born the signature look of what would become the top dancer of San Francisco, forever known far and wide as Roxanne.