The Current State of Affairs (no pun intended)

In May of this year, El Paso’s City Council “unanimously approved a new and highly restrictive ordinance…regulating sexually oriented businesses in the city” (El Paso Times, 9 May 2007). In order to limit physical contact, dancers must stay a minimum of six feet away from customers. According to city representatives, the ordinance “…cannot be based on moral laws but on health and safety” (Ortega qted. in EP Times) as “there's a higher prevalence of sexual assault, property crimes, public lewdness and public indecency around sexually oriented businesses" (Byrd qted. in EP Times). Whether the “lady dancers,” as a gentleman from the East side of town calls them, choose to tow the six foot line or not remains to be seen, for women in “sexually oriented” professions have over 100 years of experience challenging social boundaries.

Paso del norte y hoteles “de paso”

Before the City of El Paso was incorporated in 1873, it was merely “the pass,” the midpoint between merchants and soldiers travelling west from the Mississippi River to the Pacific Ocean. With the arrival of the railroad in El Paso in 1881, the 175 person city began to feel its heart beating as entrepreneurial and entertainment ventures thrived. As part of the Western Frontier bordering Juárez, México, “the pass” was not exempt from the legends of cowboys, Indians, and conquistadors, men of history who fought for their land, their people, their manifest destiny, their inquisitions. The stories that are seldomly told are her-stories, and when they are they are compiled, pieced together to depict a woman or two whose appearance and actions merited inclusion in his books. Since El Paso is indeed “the pass,” a thoroughfare, a means to an end, very few settled here and very few brought their wives. More than a hundred years later in the 1970s, a man by the name of Gordon Frost decided to find out more about the women of “the pass”—the women who helped found the city but whose contributions were not typically recorded in history books. So it was. Frost interviewed at least 50 women “ancient and modern” over the course of 15 years. In those 15 years he also researched city archives, police records, and news sources. And while it is not easy to reconstruct the histories of women, especially as a man, Gordon Frost’s efforts are commendable as his book The Gentlemen’s Club, named after one of the most popular brothels in El Paso, re-presents the lives of women in “sexually oriented” professions by spotlighting their voices, their actions, and those of others who knew them. In his epilogue, Frost offers reflections and revelations, confirming this as a learning experience of notable transcendence:

Although each girl was a unique individual, they all shared one thing in common: a total honesty about their vocation. At no time did any of the girls attempt to deny their raison d’etre: commercial sex. Period. This candor was refreshing, especially in a day and age in which some so-called “respectable” women will marry, not out of love for their spouse, but for the many expensive luxuries he can—and better—provide. (314)

He adds, “It is past time that we approach the problem of prostitution from a sensible, realistic aspect: one which deals jointly with descriminalization and humane treatment for some of the most human, beings” (sic 315). In his historical account with fictional undertones and multiple plays on words, Frost paints a portrait of the prostitute who claims ownership over her body and articulates a subversive self outside of and against the normative rhetorics of her time. Operating from the margins of delineated Zones of Tolerance then and now, the female sex worker commands control of her body, her possessions, and even of men, proving that her opposition to social constructions in which she did not have a role is a force to be reckoned with.

A Room of Her Own: Brothels and Cribs in the Tenderloin District

“…give her a room of her own and five hundred a year...” (Woolf, A Room 1269).

They may not have engaged in the profession of literature, a “harmless and reputable occupation,” to which Woolf alludes, but El Paso’s prostitutes of the 1880s had a room of their own and five-hundred a year indeed. Frost draws a distinction between the two types of spaces that women prostitutes occupied: brothels and cribs.

The Beautiful Alice Abbott, Best Housekeeper in the U.S.A. (pictures from her personal scrapbook)

Either too old or too ugly to work in the $3-to-$5-per-trick brothels, the crib girls usually received from fifty cents to a dollar for their amatory efforts. Surprisingly, many of the crib girls made much more money than their more glamorous bordello sisters. The brothel girls had many expenses which the crib girls were able to escape, such as costly clothes, perfumes, and the unhappy fact that the house girls had to split—usually between forty to sixty percent of their “take”—with the madam….The only expense connected with running the crib was the weekly fifty dollar rent demanded by the crib owner. (31)

Some crib girls would make enough money to later invest in brothels or hotels of their own.

Tillie Howard's Bedroom

The Parlor at Etta Clark's On Utah (now Mesa St.)

At the very least they raised their standard of living. Zones of Tolerance were often known as “tenderloin” districts because those who lived there went from “eating stew every night” to “eating tenderloin” (Frost 24). Such was the case of competitors Alice Abbott and Etta Clark who hailed from other parts of the United States where they had already practiced their profession and saved their money. The “beautiful”, 195 pound, six-foot tall Alice Abbott was said to be the best housekeeper in the United States. She retired from “housekeeping” in her thirties. In 1890, Etta Clark’s brothel was appraised at $79,300 (Frost 79).

Alice Abbott's successful rival, Etta Clark

Sexually oriented businesses then, afforded women the chance of a lifetime, they could make money to pay for their own space, but that is just the start. Frost claims that many women made enough money to make respectable investments, to get married, and to send their children to private schools in the East (9, 314). And since there is something to be said for money and power, the profits of “the dance” were only the beginning of their relationship with the law.

Who’s in Charge?

Since prostitution was indeed illegal, one may wonder how the madams and their girls often received legal protection from the police force. As a matter of fact, if there was a brawl or an uncontrollable customer, the police would arrive at the sound of a whistle. Here is the story:

At first, the city fathers allowed prostitution to flourish unchecked, but in the spring of 1882 began enforcing sections 49 and 73 of the City Charter, ordering the arrest of all wanton women and employers. Actually, the word “arrest” used here is a misnomer. By an unwritten and mutual understanding, it was agreed on by leaders on both sides of the moral fence that a police-commissioned “fine collector” be appointed. His sole duty would be to visit the cribs and brothels weekly and collect a five-dollar “fine” from each girl engaged in the venereal vice….Eventually, this method of fine collecting was extended to gambling houses, dance halls and saloons. All money gathered in this manner was used to pay the salaries and expenses of the Police Department, a practice lasting well into the 1920s. (23)

Fines increased over time to $20 a month, but girls paid them gladly, knowing that they would save the time of appearing in court or staying in jail (Frost 36). So if the girls had it so good, what was the problem? After getting used to the nature of the sex business, it seems from Frost’s accounts that the most difficult obstacles involved violence, drugs, and betrayal. For example, one of the most beloved and elegant madams, Tillie Howard operated a successful brothel for six years, and because she was accused of stealing from a man who had rented the house for him and his friends for the entire night she paid the consequences of being pegged by the police department as someone to watch. The man had paid Tillie and the next day went to the police station, denying his stay and saying she had stolen from him. She was found “not guilty” but for the next six years found an economic down turn where “…she was arrested and found guilty of operating a disorderly house no less than fourteen times and was fined from $25 to $250 per charge” (Frost 81). Because of the lawlessness of the time, success for these women came in batches, depending on the interpretation of the law. What is clear is that their interpretation was the loosest of all as it challenged social convention with their physicality.

Tillie Howard taking a break from the profession in Africa

The Bold and the Beautiful

In the summer months many girls would keep cool by sitting out on the porches and balconies scantily clad (Frost 26). Frost explains that “…Lone Star editor S.H. Newman, self-appointed guardian of El Paso morals, railed: ‘The prostitutes of this city need to be “pulled” about twice a week to keep them within the bounds of decency on the public streets’” (25). But truth be told, the prostitutes had little concern for the bounds of decency; that was part of their modus operandi, their refusal to be constrained. “El Paso’s prostitutes were becoming bolder by the beginning of 1910. Many left the boundaries of the reservation to work in areas they thought to be more lucrative, no matter what the neighborhood mores might be” (Frost 169). Women of the brothels challenged boundaries with their bodies. They re-drew zones simply by transferring their houses to different areas of town. Instead of being evacuated, they set the rules by moving when they were at odds with the systems.

Once women overcome the “dynamics of sexual shame,” the qualms they associate with sexually oriented business move beyond their physical bodies. Leigh explains this in her writing about her self, her profession. One hundred years ago was not necessarily that different.

Lucy Martin

Lucy Martin, one of the women who worked in El Paso in the days of the Wild West was interviewed by Frost when she was 104 years old. It is one of the few interviews that was printed in its entirety (although some tape recordings of other interviews still exist but are in the hands of private collectors). When asked if she would change anything about her past, Martin said,

Looking back over the years I have often asked myself if I would do the same things again. I suppose I would, but there would be a few changes. To begin with, I wouldn’t be as trusting. It seems like every time I trusted a man in my younger years I would be betrayed [when she was in the hospital, her live-in gentleman skipped out with her money p. 285]. Also, I should have been more generous in bribing the police and public officials, both here in Mexico and in the United States. I discovered that almost anyone in authority could be purchased if the price was high enough.

I have good memories of the business: Tillie, Gypsie (another madam), my customers, my experiences. I have few regrets to go with my many smiles. (285-6)

The regrets Martin mentions are directly related to money, not sex itself. And other women in the business briefly recall or discuss the power of telling a man what to do, how to do it, and how much it would cost. All in all they exerted power over man not only by charging him for sex and then by turning around and paying the salaries of the police force but also by showing control over their own bodies.

Pictures and textual analysis for this project are all taken from Gordon Frost's book:

Frost, H.Gordon. The Gentlemen’s Club. El Paso: Mangan Books, 1983.