The Push and Pull of Pole Dancing

Until I found my way to Seventh Dimension, my sole exposure to pole dancing was from police procedural shows, a titillating backdrop for the detectives pursuing leads among the unsavory characters hanging out in a strip club in the middle of the day.

Seventh Dimension does have a bit of a speakeasy feel. Tucked away in an Eastside neighborhood of older houses and humble businesses, the studio has no sign and is closed off from the sidewalk by a privacy fence, where, as I wedged myself through the narrow opening, I half-expected to be asked for a password.

A dance friend from years ago, Karen Lehman, had urged me to check out Seventh Dimension, where she teaches. When I attended a performance showcase at the studio, I marveled at the strength, flexibility, and charisma of the dancers. I harbored doubts, though, about an activity that involved wearing six-inch platform heels and showing so much skin — and would surely require a Brazilian wax.

But studio founder and co-owner Harmony Varela reassured me that heels aren’t mandatory, just encouraged. “We’re not a judgmental studio. We have people with bushes and hairy armpits,” said Varela. Co-owner Jezaira Knight acknowledged that she “had a lot of body image issues” when she first started taking pole, insisting on wearing a leotard and tights to avoid showing any skin. But, Varela observed, “Over time, people lose their inhibitions and show skin,” adding that they have students in their seventies who wear booty shorts.

Not being ready for booty shorts just yet, I started with Lehman’s Beginner Pole and Liquid Motion classes where I was able to wear layers, running shorts, and ankle socks (knee pads were a must). In Beginner Pole, we only had to expose the skin at the waist. That’s really the first lesson: The bare skin may be appreciated by spectators, but the true purpose is to help you stay in contact with the pole. Lehman taught us the hand grips we needed to turn pirouettes around the pole, explaining that many moves involve pushing with one hand while pulling with the other. We also learned how to transition from pole to floor with the back arch slide, lowering ourselves as our waist “gripped” the pole, then raising a leg, toe pointed skyward.

Liquid Motion is strictly floor work — we didn’t touch the pole. Mostly lying or sitting on the floor, we threaded one leg through the other to move from side to side; swept our legs in long arcs, putting pelvis and chest into the motion, too; and practiced rolling on our shoulders and not our necks. Lehman also showed us how to angle our bodies to create the illusion we were in a full split.

Feeling emboldened, I tried a Beginner Pole Tricks class, taught by Stephanie Ruiz. The petite Ruiz demonstrated proper technique for a number of moves: keeping the fleshy part of the leg (not the bone) against the pole when climbing or doing carousel kicks, to avoid injury; gripping the pole with the back of one knee and the opposite hip crease for the classic Jasmine; and tilting one hip up for the pole sit. Days after Ruiz’s class, my husband asked with alarm why I had bruises all over my legs.

Why do it if it hurts? Varela said some students simply enjoy being in the moment and some are trying to get fit, while others are trying to recover from trauma. Varela herself knows something about trauma. She started teaching pole as a teenage mom supporting a young son, eventually opening a home studio in Ventura with eight poles in her living room.

She came to Santa Barbara in 2015 for a year-long rehab program at Casa Serena to recover from heroin addiction. She used a tax refund to get the lease on her first Santa Barbara studio, got help from a friend to write the business plan, and persuaded her welfare case worker to have the government buy the poles for the studio. In those early days, she taught all the classes. “I had to quickly build stamina. It was almost like being reborn. I called on a power greater than myself.”

Varela partnered with Knight in 2019. A loan from Women’s Economic Ventures helped them survive the pandemic, and they moved to their current location in October 2020.

“Our teachers are top-notch,” Varela said proudly, noting that they perform at festivals such as Lucidity and Coachella and internationally. Varela appreciates having to elevate her game for her more experienced students: “I personally grow from teaching my advanced classes.”

That probably should have sounded a warning bell, but Varela wanted me to try her intermediate-plus-level Exotic Pole Choreo class, so I did. Varela immediately outfitted me in a pair of six-inch peep-toe platforms, promising I could ditch them if I didn’t like them. (The studio keeps a supply of loaner shoes you can use if you’re not quite ready to invest in a pair.) She then led us through a routine that incorporated everything I’d gotten a taste of in the other classes, and more: strutting and pirouetting around the pole, swinging our legs high in the air, hanging from the pole and clanking our heels together, threading our legs, and even some of those faux splits for the finale. As an experienced dancer, I was able (barely) to keep up with the choreography, faked my way through some of the pole moves, and just skipped the ending altogether, which involved a sort of donkey kick from a seated position into a split.

The studio’s name came to Varela when she was in rehab — it refers to “a natural state of ecstasy.” Honestly, just staying upright in those shoes made me ecstatic. Everyone I met at Seventh Dimension was encouraging and supportive. Like me, they seemed to enjoy pole for the challenge it presented — as Knight said, Seventh Dimension is not about performing for a male gaze.

411: 706 Bond Avenue, Santa Barbara. The studio offers classes in various pole dancing disciplines (choreography, tricks, floor work) as well as aerials, Fire Flow, belly dance, and contortion. Students reserve a spot in a class using a mobile app. Cubbies are provided for storing personal items; there is a bathroom but no showers. Street parking only — arrive early to find a spot. Spray bottles and clean rags are provided so you can wipe down your pole frequently to maintain grip (and hygiene).