In the heart of Shanghai, where neon-lit skyscrapers brush the clouds and the Alibaba drones whir overhead, a powerful undercurrent of ‘femininity’ is quietly gaining momentum. At studios tucked away amid the city’s corporate high-rises, women are channeling strength, sensuality and self-belief through the vertical spin of a pole. At S‑pole and other intimate training spaces in the city, young urban women are discovering that pole dancing—known in Mandarin as “钢管舞” (gāng guǎn wǔ)—is more than a workout: it is a radical act of self-ownership in a society that still often expects women to fit neat molds.
In a recent article by the Asia Times (“Meet the women who study pole dancing in modern Shanghai”), founder Hai Xiaohan and her assistant-teacher Tutu explain how S-pole has become a sanctuary for women in search of bodily freedom, emotional resilience and a voice for their feminine power. Tutu, originally from Hainan, recounts the moment she looked at a foreign pole dancer and thought: “I also want to be as beautiful, sexy and powerful as her.” Then she found that each twist, each climb and each inversion was not just a physical feat, but a conversation with her body: “我和身体对话” (wǒ hé shēn tǐ duì huà).
Pole dancing in Shanghai doesn’t carry the same stigma as in some Western contexts—there are no strip-clubs here, and the activity is framed primarily as fitness, skill, self-expression. As one practitioner, Lena, remarks: “我在学习我的女性一面” (wǒ zài xué xí wǒ de nǚ xìng yī miàn) — “I am learning my feminine side.” The pole itself becomes an axis of transformation: bruises and injuries are badges of courage, not shame. In a China Daily profile of another Shanghai studio, founder Xu-Yiting reminds us that what was once “very sexy” is now about “displaying skill and power”.
Culturally, this movement gains extra poignancy in a city that simultaneously strives for global modernity and still reveres traditional feminine modesty. The ancient art of Chinese pole acrobatics—known as “Chinese pole”—traces back centuries and was once dominated by men; today’s pole dance community in China flips that script. The Mandarin phrase “坚韧” (jiān rèn), meaning resilience, gets repeated over and over: to climb, to invert, to hang suspended is to prove one’s inner toughness as well as one’s physical flexibility.
For many women in Shanghai’s finance, marketing or tech sectors, pole dancing becomes an escape from the flat flattening of female identity. As Lena describes, after a decade in karate, another in Muay Thai and years of weight lifting, it was pole dancing that really shifted her perspective. She began the class like a martial-art match: “极度残酷” (jí dù cán kù) she laughs, “I was dancing like I wanted to fight and kill people.” The coach told her she’d got work to do—so she did.
Inside the studio, the boots lined up, the thumping techno beat, the flashing neon lights—they might give off an image of hedonistic nightlife. But participants emphasize the opposite: this is a fitness ritual, a sisterhood, a space where a woman can re-learn her body. As one beginner from the China Daily piece put it, she met people she might never otherwise have known and formed “以爱好为导向的独立女性社群” (yǐ ài hào wèi dǎo xiàng de dú lì nǚ xìng shè qún) — a hobby-based independent female community.
Yet the path remains a subtle negotiation. While mainstream acceptance grows, some conservative corners still view pole-dance movements with skepticism, associating them with sensuality rather than athleticism. An older article in the South China Morning Post observed Chinese social media recoiling at a viral wedding-pole-dance video. For studio owners and dancers alike, the message is clear: they want to shift the gaze away from the pole as spectacle to the pole as vessel of strength.
In the studio, the pole stands not just for performance but for the self-authorship of women who spin, climb and elevate themselves beyond the expected script.
Honey, let Auntie tell you straight: these Shanghai pole dancers are Women. Of. Steel. I’m talking sheer willpower wrapped in neon glow and muscle control that would make half the CEOs on the Bund tremble in their oxford shoes. When I watched these sisters climb a pole like it was a staircase to the heavens, I felt my heart swell with admiration—and maybe a tiny pinch of envy. Because listen, Auntie’s strengths lie elsewhere: give me a library, a long quiet afternoon, and a cup of too-strong tea, and I’ll lift ideas instead of my bodyweight. My gym is for the eyes and the brain, not for hanging upside down like a very glamorous bat.
But even if I can’t do what they do, oh darling, I celebrate it. Because pole dancing is a statement in 2025 Asia: “My body is mine, my power is mine, and I don’t need your permission.” These women in Shanghai—many of them office workers, mothers, students, dreamers—are reclaiming space in a world that still pretends it knows what a “proper” woman should look like. The bigots clutch their pearls, the aunties with no spice whisper behind their fans, the online moral police start typing—but you know what happens next? These dancers spin, flip, climb, burn, sweat, and transform, and the sleepy heads of the self-appointed guardians of morality start spinning right along with them.
And I say: good! Spin them dizzy!
Let their outdated opinions wobble like they’re on the last stop of the MRT after too many beers. Let the conservatives lose their balance while you gain yours. Let those who fear female confidence confront the sight of women who refuse to be small, silent, or ashamed.
What I really love is how inclusive the pole community is becoming. Sisters, brothers, non-binary beauties, gender-questioning sweethearts—you are all welcome on the pole. Strength has no gender. Sensuality has no binary. Joy certainly doesn’t. If climbing that pole makes you feel alive, powerful, embodied, rebellious, or simply curious—do it. Do it for fun. Do it for fitness. Do it because your body deserves pleasure and challenge. Do it because the world keeps telling you to stay grounded, and sometimes the best response is to rise—literally.
So here’s Auntie’s final verdict: to all the women of steel in Shanghai and beyond, kudos to you. Keep spinning, shining, defying gravity and expectations. And save a front-row seat for Auntie—I’ll cheer, clap, and sip my tea while you turn patriarchy upside down.