Debby Doesn’t Do It For Free: sex workers speak up
By: Matilda Surtees
The circumstances and specificities of sex work are different from one city to the next and from one worker to the next, belying the sensationalised generalisations that burden mainstream accounts of sex work. However, there are rough continuities in the industry and one of them is the mainstream desire to wring it out of the public sphere. It can happen in a very tangible way: the proposed redevelopment of Amsterdam, which would close down the famous window-workplaces of the red-light district, is one of the more recent attempts to remove sex work from the public urban geography to clear a path for further gentrification.
Of course, the erasure of sex work – and, more importantly, sex workers – is often more abstract, operating through social and cultural mediums to press the voices and experiences of workers into silence, or distort them through stigma. Working against these multiple forms of erasure is Debby Doesn’t Do It For Free, an Australian art and performance sex worker collective and the group behind the eponymous Sydney upcoming exhibition which opens on 2 June: International Whores Day. When I spoke to Deep-Dish Debby, one of the exhibition organisers, she described the exhibition as a “chance for us to tell the stories we want to tell about our lives as sex workers,” and wrest the control over their narratives from a media that is “negative and sensationalist.”
“The prominent discourse in the media about sex workers is that they are victims, without agency, and organising for our rights or to support each other doesn’t fit into the discourse of bad women, who are screwed up, who are incapable of making good choices for ourselves, for our families,” she says.
She pointed out that gentrification already took a toll on the industry in Sydney when the ‘open door’ brothels of Darlinghurst disappeared: “gentrification pushes sex workers out.” That the TAP Gallery, where the exhibition will be held, is in Darlinghurst as well is not wholly incidental, with Deep-Dish Debby pointing out the importance of the area as “the birthplace of contemporary sex work in Australia.”
As Sydney closed the door to shut sex-work away from the public eye, so too is Amsterdam attempting to force sex-workers to literally vacate the window of public visibility. These two disparate but connected histories inspired one of the most impressive works exhibiting in Debby Doesn’t Do It For Free: a week-long durational performance in which various collective members will occupy the window in two hour shifts from 12-6pm every day, returning some of that old visibility to the streets of Darlinghurst.
There seems to be a sharp rebuke to the rhetoric behind the Amsterdam redevelopment in the window-occupation performance. The exercise of agency and the legitimacy of sex-work are reasserted in the pointed, public performance, to be pitted against the idea that sex workers need to have their interests minded by others. The moralised and condescending discussion, which is so often about sex workers, rather than by or with them, serves to disguise the conflict between dominant cultural and economic interests and the individual experience and rights: “it’s couched in quite paternalistic terms, ‘protecting sex-workers,’ but it’s actually about gentrification,” Deep-Dish tells me.
Alongside a vibrant and compelling selection of artworks and performance, the exhibition also seizes the chance to reverse that paternalism, taking an autonomous educational slant with a number of interactive talks. Sex worker Q&As – ‘Ask A Whore A Question’ –, artist talks, a by-invitation talk for local health service providers, and the President of the Scarlet Alliance, Ryan Cole, as a guest speaker are all part of the line-up.
The exhibition is remarkably varied, creative and interactive, with contributors expressing themselves across a wide breadth of media. The artwork on display includes a series of linocuts by Delightful Deb Arkle that explore motherhood and being a sex-worker, and a photography series by Difficult Debby that turns a peep-show into portraiture, while the opening night features one-off shows from local band Whorecore and established performers Debby Decay and Diva Debby.
The diversity of the exhibition is a natural reflection of the collective itself. Founded in 2002, each member takes an artistic pseudonym based off Debby, in reference to the Golden Age porn film Debby Does Dallas. There are multiple levels of significance to the name. The collective have stated that “taking on a Debby name is not because we are ashamed,” but because “it recognises that some sex workers can’t be out while levels of stigma and discrimination are so high and in many parts of the world, or even Australia, our work is criminalised.” There is also a more buoyant element of the reference: it’s a nod to the pro-sex work, skill-sharing, supportive relationships between the characters of Debby Does Dallas.
The collective is markedly intergenerational and eclectic – something people often seem to don’t understand sex workers can be, according to Deep-Dish Debby. Some of the members have “worked in different areas and under different laws,” while some are mothers, students, and have an incredible spectrum of experiences and even other careers outside sex work. “One thing that I imagine people will come away thinking is that perhaps our lives aren’t so different.”
“Sex work doesn’t define us,” she says, but “[people] think that it’s our entire life.”
Debby Doesn’t Do It For Free will run from 2-6 June at the TAP Gallery, 278 Palmer St Darlinghurst, 2010. Opening night performances begin at 6pm on 2 June and you can follow the collective on twitter: @TheDebbys.
Matilda Surtees is a freelance writer and current Honours student. Her work has previously appeared in Honi Soit, the Lifted Brow and on fourthreefilm.com. Follow her on twitter: @matildasurtees