A tale of two women . . . or three

I RECALL back in 1984 when I first came to Hong Kong, a French lady friend asked to be shown the notorious Bottoms Up topless bar in Tsim Sha Tsui, Kowloon, where a scene in the James Bond film Man with the Golden Gun was shot. We had a beer while I shifted on my perch uncomfortably, trying not to make eye contact with the voluptuous Trinidadian serving drinks from the middle of the small circular bar.

Spotting my discomfort, my friend turned to me. "Do you think it's wrong to use your body to make money?" I mumbled and sipped my drink. "Some people use their brains to make money," she continued, "others use their bodies, and why not?" The simple unassailable Gallic logic was delivered with a shrug and a bemused smile.

I had the opportunity to revisit the issue some years later while interviewing Pat Sephton, the colourful manager of Bottoms Up and a former Windmill girl from London. She considered the question, slowly pulling a feather boa across her bare shoulders and blew me a kiss. The Hong Kong courts sided with Victorian prudery - and irate neighbours - and the club was forced to remove its raunchy neon sign on Hankow Road. Bottoms Up moved across the harbour to Wanchai, as a sports bar, faded into obscurity, and disappeared. Ms Sephton and her feather boa having touched four score and 10 years unscathed were laid to rest in 2017 and an era came to a close.