The Wall

by Anna Griffin, The Oregonian
Tuesday January 13, 2009, 5:43 PM

Men of Oregon, hide your wives and girlfriends. Start working on those six-pack abs. Break out the baby oil and the body-waxing kit, because the Chippendales are back.

Sorry. That sounded a little too 1985, didn’t it?

Then again, these are the Chippendales we’re talking about, those bow tie-wearing exotic dancers who took the world — at least, the half fueled by estrogen — by storm during the Reagan administration. They’re performing Thursday at The Refectory in Northeast Portland.

To answer a few obvious questions: Yes, they’re still in business, flourishing in fact with a permanent Las Vegas show and three traveling troupes. Yes, the basic act has been updated, think Justin Timberlake instead of Prince, more manly crew cuts and fewer fabulous, Fabio-style locks. Yes, there are still plenty of strategically placed bulges to go along with the occasional actual plotline.

Still, there’s something almost quaint about the whole endeavor, especially here in the city with the most strip clubs per capita and a general live-and-let-live attitude toward s-e-x. In this city of Neapolitan tastes, the Chippendales offer a whole lot of vanilla: hunky men oiling themselves up and disrobing down to their undies.

But please: Do not call these guys strippers. It hurts their feelings.

“The locals, they might be like, ‘Here, I’m a man, I’ll take my clothes off for you,’” says Elvin Bibiloni, a tour manager and performer. “We take off some, sure. But we stay classy.”

Bibiloni, 31, is an old-school Chippendale, tall and broad-shouldered with deep brown eyes, long black hair and an accent from his native Puerto Rico. He’s protective of the Chippendales brand, carefully correcting himself when he refers to the group’s female fans as anything other than “the ladies.”

Despite the diamond hoops in Bibiloni’s ears, this is not a glamorous life. Women do flock to the “cast members” after shows, competing to buy them drinks and score autographs. But when they’re not performing, the men live much like Triple A baseball players, staying at airport hotels and devoting their free time to working out and watching sports on TV. They perform in places such as Kennewick, Wash.; San Luis Obispo, Calif.; and Lubbock, Texas, where a group of dancers was arrested two years ago on quickly dropped indecency charges.

Jordan Lee Dizon is married with kids. The lifestyle — three weeks on the road, one week off — is growing old. His back and knees don’t recover as quickly after shows, and his wife stopped coming because she doesn’t enjoy watching other women attempt to grope her husband.

In his 16 years, the crowds have changed.

“They’re younger,” he says. “And they expect more.”

When the Chippendales were founded in 1979 — countless pelvic thrusts ago — women had fewer exotic entertainment options. Today, particularly in larger, more liberated cities such as our own sex-industry mecca, you can see a lot more any day of the week.

“You hear it all the time, ‘Take it all off,’” says dancer Timothy James, shrugging. “They want you naked, and they get really disappointed when they realize you’re not going all the way.”

James, baby faced at 28, is from Sequim, Wash., about an hour outside Seattle. His female relatives all show up whenever he performs close to home.

“They get such a kick out of seeing how people react to me,” he says. “Mom is really hoping I make the calendar soon.”

The other guys also love when his family shows up. Grandma, it seems, tips really well.

article courtesy of Anna Griffin; The Oregonian