Strippers Reveal Naked Truth About Monica

Hailey bore the strongest resemblance.

Jeanette had the most clever ensemble.

But I’d have to say that, all in all, I was rooting for Lana.

Certainly she had chosen the most appropriate song, “Criminal” by Fiona Apple. Backstage before the show, Lana reminded me how it begins:

I’ve been a bad, bad girl

I’ve been careless with a delicate man

And it’s a sad, sad world

When a girl can break a boy

Just because she can. . .

If the song fits, strip to it. Lana, you see, was one of a dozen competitors who had gathered the other night for a Monica Lewinsky Look-A-Like Striptease Contest at the Valley Ball Cabaret.

Now, if you don’t feel like reading on, I understand and ask for understanding in return. I’m not protecting the public’s right to know, I’m keeping a finger on the pulse of the body politic. And if we care about the human condition, then we must be interested in those institutions that these days are euphemistically referred to as “gentlemen’s clubs.”

The joint was jammed with men who paid a $10 cover charge to ogle as women pranced and danced and got naked. Like other members of the media--including, I’ll have you know, at least two female journalists--I was there to gain a better understanding of how allegations of sexual misconduct that have been denied by President Clinton have influenced popular culture.

And the San Fernando Valley, of course, is a hothouse of pop culture. This is a place where both the Walt Disney Co. and the real-life inspiration of “Boogie Nights” coexist. It was here that Jay Leno gave the world the Dancing Itos. It was only a matter of time before a local burlesque delivered Live Nude Lewinskys.

The dancers were all pros, and it’s a safe bet that they all were using stage names. Most of them, contest coordinator Danny Bilikas said, were regulars at the Valley Ball’s “sister” clubs near Los Angeles International Airport, the New Jet Strip and the Bare Elegance.

The latter rang a bell. Duty had taken me to the Bare Elegance back in 1989, after the untimely death of its purported boss, one Horace Joseph “Big Mac” McKenna. Authorities were conducting an undercover tax-fraud investigation when McKenna was gunned down in mobster fashion while sitting in his limo outside his Orange County horse ranch. Nice digs for a man who had just recently claimed a taxable income of less than $40,000.

But that was then, and this was now. The dancers had come to compete for an advertised $5,000 in prize money--$2,500 for first, $1,500 for second, $800 for third. And the rest, I guess, for consolation.

Rupert Murdoch’s network, FOX, was there, as was local radio. One dancer was interviewed en Espanol. Meanwhile, a German TV crew shot footage of Jeanette’s ensemble. She opened the top of her red plaid business suit to reveal a black bare-midriff tank top stitched with patriotic words: SERVICE AMERICA. Her black and red lingerie matched nicely with black kneepads.

I, meanwhile, was interviewing Hailey, who described herself as “literally a Valley Girl,” who now happened to be living in Malibu. Lewinsky, ironically, has been described as a Valley Girl by the New York Times, even though her roots are on the Westside.

Hailey said she hadn’t been dancing for months, but friends urged her to compete because she really does look something like Monica Lewinsky-post-Jenny Craig. Hailey told me she would be dancing to “I Know What Boys Like” by the Waitresses.

Not a bad choice, but Jeanette’s was more specific. She was going for an oldie, the 5th Dimension’s “Wedding Bell Blues.” You know:

I love you, Bill

I always will. . .

Then there was Lana. She wore a wig and interpreted Lewinsky in black leather. Certainly “Criminal” was an inspired choice. The lyrics are apt and aptly ambiguous. One might imagine Lewinsky singing this to her “friend” Linda Tripp, or her attorney, William Ginsburg, maybe even Kenneth Starr or Vernon Jordan. The song continues:

Don’t you tell me to deny it

I’ve done wrong and I want to suffer for my sins

I’ve come to you ‘cause I need guidance to be true

And I just don’t know where I can begin

What I need is a good defense

‘Cause I’m feelin’ like a criminal. . .

Bilikas estimated that the contest had tripled the typical attendance. A faux President Clinton served as emcee for the contest, while the club’s regular dancers took turns on a secondary stage. Men paid women $15 for up-close-and-personal “table dances,” and $20 for the much closer, more personal “couch dance.” (I think “lap dance” is the more accurate phrase.) One waitress told me she knew of men who spend up to $300 a night.

Before the contest was even over, I realized bedtime was approaching and I figured I’d seen enough and heard enough. The next day I called Bilikas for the results.

Lana, alas, was shut out. So was Hailey.

But Jeanette finished third. A petite Lewinsky named Dena took second. The grand prize was won by Victoria, a tall brunet who, when I saw her, was wearing a tasteful gray business suit. “She had a great attitude and the garters,” Bilikas said. “She just looked really super cool.”

He relayed my next question to a dancer.

“Shasta? Shasta? Do we know what Victoria danced to last night?”

Shasta knew. It was a song by a group called the Jackals.

Its title goes to the heart of the allegations.

And it would never get past the editors.

Scott Harris’ column appears Tuesdays, Thursdays and Sundays. Readers may write to him at The Times’ Valley Edition, 20000 Prairie St. , Chatsworth 91311, or via e-mail at scott.harris@latimes.com Please include a phone number.