So what's wrong with lap-dancing?

Last year, when I suggested that Tatler, where I am an editor, threw its annual Little Black Book party for eligible babes in Peter Stringfellow's West End lap-dancing club, some people on the magazine were worried that it was "inappropriate".

The night was, however, a huge success. Hugh Grant summed it up by saying: "This is what heaven will be like."

So I was very surprised when it was revealed yesterday that a senior lawyer at Clifford Chance, who had entertained clients at the Spearmint Rhino club on Tottenham Court Road, was forced to issue a humiliating apology to colleagues for bringing the renowned law firm into disrepute. When I did a quick survey in the Tatler office about lapdancing there was, admittedly, a varying response. One pretty, secure-in-her-marriage blonde with a perfect figure said: "It's pathetic how men (her husband included) have to go and drool at women's breasts." Another single Tatlerette thought it was "a harmless activity" and she was completely "unthreatened" by it. A third admitted she had "no idea what goes on in those clubs - I just assume it is all sleazy".

Now, I'm not what you'd call a regular at the poles, but I have been to Spearmint Rhino, Stringfellow's and somewhere in Park Royal. And every time I watch those girls slide up and down or gyrate six inches away from my nose, I rather enjoy it.

Obviously, as a girl, I look at lap-dancing from a different perspective to men, but I don't know a single woman who is not fascinated by other women's bodies. It is a pleasure to be able to sit and examine an almost perfect one close-up. And often these girls are perfect. It is interesting to see how other people are sexy, what they do, and how they move. I envy their confidence and admire their bravery. They are funny and fun.

One lap-dancer told me, while gyrating halfnaked-between my legs, all about her nan who crocheted the rather fetching slinky, lemon-yellow tube she was slowly removing. Another enquired if I was a model (I used to be) and asked me, to my enormous surprise, why I didn't get nervous standing in front of a camera. The most stunning girl I've had dance for me whispered that she'd "like to see me again" (it's the men who are told they can't make dates afterwards, there's nothing to stop me). It was a very sexy proposition at the time.

Ironically, it's my boyfriend, the writer AA Gill, who finds the whole lap-dancing thing deeply uncomfortable. He feels he is being exploited. But he admits that, as a woman, I am treated differently by the girls. His real fun comes from seeing how the other men react when the girls dance for me. The last time this happened - the dancer offered to do it for free - I did notice that everyone in the room seemed to be looking in my direction. The poor pole dancers on the raised stage at the front of the room were completely ignored throughout.

"The combination is sexy for men," admits my partner. "They are entranced by it. It fulfils a fantasy." He also points out that the girls look more relaxed when they are in front of me.

WHETHER it's at the gym, in the department-store fitting room, or in a close friend's bedroom as she shows off a new outfit she's just bought, women are used to taking their clothes off in front of each other. Men, however, are not. When I spoke to some of the lap-dancers, they revealed that they enjoyed dancing for other women because they appreciated their bodies more. It was not just salacious. From my red-velvet banquette, there was a certain frisson to be had from sharing the power a dancer has over a man.

I don't think any worse of men if they go to a lap-dancing club for the evening, and I certainly don't think any better of men if they don't. By implying that it is inappropriate for them to go to such places actually demeans women. It is not necessarily disreputable or dirty. And a company's reputation is certainly not sullied by women doing a ballsy job. Can't the powers-that-be at Clifford Chance appreciate that these girls are just as hardworking and professional as they are? They get paid well (up to £1,000 a night), don't even have to touch the clients and can keep their days free to look after their kids or study for their exams.

Peter Stringfellow claims that on weekdays, 10 per cent of his clientele are women, rising to 20 per cent at weekends. "Some ladies are brought to the club reluctantly but always end up enjoying themselves, but they do think the 'no touching' rule doesn't apply to them," he points out. In fact, his club is attracting so many women that it now has boy dancers on Saturday nights: "Six beautiful Dream Boys with great personalities," he says.

I'm not really interested in watching testosterone, but maybe men should pay attention to each other getting undressed. They could learn something.