Skip to main contentStrip clubs are like raindrops in Portland: They're everywhere. And like the rain, stripculture is seemingly indiscriminate, catering to a largely mixed (and mixed-gender) crowd. For anyone to willingly walk into any of Portland's more renowned strip clubs and feel out of place is odd. But when I walked into the recently opened Gata Salvaje (the name means "wildcat" in Spanish), the welcome mat was not rolled out. Here was a room of double takes and scowls awaiting me, a white woman walking into Portland's purely Hispanic strip club.
Sure, other area music clubs-like Bossanova or Caribe Colonial-play Latin music. And plenty of local strip clubs have themes-like Safari's emphasis on wildlife or Union Jack's Vegas-rock fusion-but Gata alone caters to those in search of Latino dancers and music, serving a culture without cheaply commodifying its most cliché bits.
There were no neon sombreros here. Instead, a blacklight overwhelms the room, illuminating the well-worn carpet and beer signs. Its patrons, all Hispanic and African-American men, sit in quiet groups, staring toward the L-shaped stage as the DJ spins banda and reggaeton beats. And the DJ's inter-song banter is entirely in Spanish, dashing any hope I had of discovering the names of the songs soundtracking the evening's skin parade.
On stage is the first legitimate booty I've seen anywhere near a pole all night. And by "all night," I mean just that-for comparison's sake, I've also hit Lush, Union Jack's and Safari. The dancers at those clubs were tattooed and athletic-more muscle and smaller boobs. And those muscles were necessary to pull off gymnastic dance displays that made Gata's women look like they were just swaying to the beat.
Pre-pole, the dancers at the other clubs teased and toyed with the boisterous crowd until they saw enough cash on the ground-$20 to $50-to warrant exposure. Gata's women didn't seem to bother checking the ground to see how much cash had been offered up before shaking their ample breasts in front of a customer from a distance that elsewhere would have cost $20. They weren't trying to smile-like dancers at other clubs-and the men weren't trying to make them.
Maybe it was a slow night, and the gents were tired. Maybe Gata is just plain depressing. Or maybe this is just Portland's strip-culture divide in action.
Gata Salvaje, at 633 SE Powell Blvd., is just off the Ross Island Bridge in the old Boom Boom Room East and Club Coco II space.
WWeek 2015