Wendy Robert
In the 1970s and 1980s, 42nd Street in New York City was the center of a loud, raw, and unfiltered sex industry. The street was packed with clubs, peep shows, and street-level sex work. Every block was crammed with neon lights, flashing signs, and paper flyers offering cheap thrills. Photographer Eugene Gordon captured these scenes with sharp honesty, freezing moments of a city deep in its own underworld.
Gordon’s lens focused on what most people ignored or avoided. His photographs tell stories through signs, storefronts, and faces caught in mid-motion. The ads were not slick or polished. Most were handwritten or made with stencils, placed in dusty windows or taped to peeling walls. “Live Girls,” “Adult Arcade,” “Body Rubs,” and “25¢ Peep Show” were repeated over and over, bold and urgent. Bright colors were used to catch the eye. Red, yellow, and pink were favorites. Many signs added words like “Hot,” “Nude,” or “Uncensored” to get fast attention.
Each ad made promises. Some offered “Private Booths.” Others hinted at more with phrases like “No Limits” or “All Day, All Night.” These weren’t upscale businesses. Most were tiny spaces between discount shops or behind metal gates. But the language on the signs was always pushing for more—more heat, more risk, more escape.
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Peep shows were one of the most common businesses. A person would pay a small fee, sit in a booth, and look through a small hole or glass window. Behind the screen, a woman would perform. The booths were tight, dark, and smelled of sweat and disinfectant. Some were coin-operated. Others had timers. These spaces were built for speed and secrecy, not comfort.
Strip clubs and “massage parlors” were also everywhere. Outside, a bouncer or promoter might whisper offers or hand out flyers. Inside, lights were dim, music pounded, and dancers moved on stage or in private backrooms. The workers inside were mostly women, often young, and many were just trying to survive in a brutal economy. They knew how to sell fantasy, even if the real world was rough and unforgiving.
Street life around these places added another layer. Drug dealers stood near the doors. Pimps walked the curbs. Police cruised by but rarely stopped unless things turned violent. Crime was part of the atmosphere. Pickpockets, fights, and scams were regular.
Gordon captured all of this not with judgment, but with focus. His photos don’t try to clean up the truth. They show sticky seats, broken bulbs, and cracked windows. They also show the boldness of people who lived and worked in that world. No one in his shots looks fake. They’re tired, stylish, or alert—never posed.
The ads in these photos show how business worked without the internet. Everything had to scream for attention. Flyers were handed out by teenagers. Posters were slapped on lampposts. Phone numbers were written on every flat surface. If someone wanted sex, they didn’t scroll—they wandered and chose.
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