The sex trade is one of New Zealand's oldest and most lucrative industries, dating back to the days when whalers and traders swapped muskets for sex.

In the last 11 years, law reform has made prostitution a perfectly legitimate profession.

But as far as the government is concerned, the sex industry does not exist, with zero data on its contribution to tourism or the broader economy.

This year, for the first time ever, the United Kingdom's Office for National Statistics estimated prostitution spending was £5.65 billion (NZ$11.45b) in 2013.

Assuming New Zealanders are at least as randy as Brits, the local industry could be pumping well over $800 million into the economy every year.

For context, that is roughly the same GDP contribution as the entire clothing, footwear and textiles sector.

According to the results of last year's Census, there are 60, presumably exhausted, sex workers servicing the entire country.

As the Justice Ministry described it, calculating the true number is "about as difficult as counting glow-worms in a cave".

Estimates vary from as few as 2,332 to over 15,000, and everything in between.

Even the normally eagle-eyed taxman has no idea, lumping sex work into hospitality or special services.

You might as well take a tape measure to classified ads in the paper, says Catherine Healy, national co-ordinator of the New Zealand Prostitutes' Collective.

"It is a pretty tricky area to calculate."

A review committee five years on from the law change suggested the reform had little impact on the number of people working.

While the numbers fluctuate slightly from year to year, Healy says "our feeling is that it's pretty much the same".

It is just as difficult to separate fact from fiction when it comes to average incomes.

"You might hear people say things like they made $1000 a night," says Healy.

"They're standing in front of me talking about this, and then saying; ‘how much is this lubricant?' They've got this worried look."

Many sex workers would actually call $1000 a good working week, Healy says.

"There's a lot of under-employment. The common complaint from every sex worker is that they're not making enough money."

Self-employed Wellington sex worker Eva, not her real name, says the lull in business is a hot topic amongst her colleagues.

"I was just over in Sydney last week, because it's just so quiet over here," she says.

Eva bumped into two Kiwi girls who had made the same move, but even the Sydneysiders were complaining of a lack of custom.

As it turns out, the main grumbles these days are not exploitation, violence or trafficking (of which there has never been a substantiated case here).

Instead, they're mostly mundane employment issues.

"Short-changed by the boss, not having enough clients. Those are the same problems faced by a lot of industries," says Healy.

The idea that people are being coerced into prostitution is inaccurate, she says.

"Economics encourages people to go to work on a Monday. It's very much that for sex workers."

The biggest change since the reform has been more people managing their own sex work, with flexible working hours.

Eva has an ordinary office job, and pops out for a "long lunch" when she's seeing clients.

"I make enough money in the other job to live," she says. "This if for if I want to go on holiday, buy some nice things, or even go out for dinner."

Ideally she would see one client per day, but says she typically gets three or four a week. It's enjoyable, as far as work goes - as Eva puts it; "I'm not there to have orgasms".

Ironically, promiscuity could prove to be the biggest threat to the prostitution industry.

Over the last 15 years, the internet age has seen free, no-strings-attached sex become much easier to arrange.

Online dating sites like NZDating and Find Someone boast more than 100,000 and 80,000 members respectively.

In recent years, location-based smartphone app Tinder, which is mostly associated with casual sex, has also become enormously popular.

Eva says it has been especially hard for her friends serving the gay community, where hook-up culture has a longer history and is even more socially acceptable.

She reckons most gay men in Wellington are on Grindr, the Tinder equivalent, and it's only older non tech-savvy types who still turn to the newspaper classifieds.

Of course, the disruptive nature of the internet cuts both ways. As Eva points out, it is now much easier for freelancers to advertise cheaply and efficiently.

One of her friends was deluged with 1000 friend requests a day after setting up a Facebook page advertising her services.

The industry is also starting to make much more innovative use of technology.

New Zealand-developed MADAM uses geolocation to connect clients and workers, essentially aiming to become the Uber of sex.

Users can sort by hair colour, body shape and "service requirements" to organise a meeting with someone in their area.

Workers get detailed analytics on the hits they get, including what time of day traffic is highest, and which locations are working best.

Wellington's Mary Brennan runs the high-end Fun House in the Wellington CBD, as well as a fetish dungeon called the MM Club.

While the industry is changing rapidly, she says some are always constant - like the taxman.

Even 19 years ago, the IRD was distributing printed forms to sex workers, neatly laying out what they could and could not claim as expenses.

"The tax department don't really care what you do to make the money, they just want their cut of it," says Brennan.

The IRD confirms as much: "We treat brothel operators and freelance sex workers the same as any other taxpayer or business," says a spokesperson.

Brennan says there is probably some cash passed under the table, but it would be far less than people expect, and no different from the likes of tradies or hairdressers.

Other parts of the industry have changed hugely.

Earlier this year, the Human Rights Review Tribunal awarded $25,000 in damages to a young prostitute who was sexually harassed by a Wellington brothel owner.

The landmark case was a world-first, and the story quickly spread around the globe.

The tribunal ruled that even in a brothel, "language with a sexual dimension can be used inappropriately in suggestive, oppressive, or abusive circumstances".

Improving working conditions and rights apparently do not a career make, with no mention on Careers New Zealand's website.

A spokesperson says not all jobs are listed. Those missing; "as in this case, are typically careers that are not widely searched for nor sought after".

"I wouldn't throw the word career in there, necessarily," says Brennan. "It is something that can be emotionally draining after a long time. But then, so can being a lawyer."

Brennan says she takes only 5 per cent of applicants, who have to be well-educated, personable, and genuinely keen to work.

Her girls earn good money, pocketing half the hourly fee of $320 or $380.

Most workers would only see one or two clients a day. But when some clients book multiple hours, overnight, or even whisk a girl away to Europe for two weeks, the money can add up fast.

The brothel also supplies all shoes, costumes, advertising, and other expenses.

"The girls have no outgoings apart from their tax and ACC," says Brennan. "If you broke it down, actually the girls are probably getting 70 per cent."

While the Fun House is at the premium end, pay and conditions vary across the industry.

Eva has worked the whole spectrum of brothels, from ones where "lots of the girls were university feminists" to another run by a woman who threatened to sue her if she did not show up.

She says walk-in brothels typically charge $160 to $220 an hour. Workers get about half, as well as any extras over and above the basics - kissing could be another $50, for example.

"Younger ones might work five shifts a week," says Eva. "If they're quite pretty and popular, maybe they'll be making a few grand a week."

For most, it would be less than $1000. Brothels can also be boring, and involve hanging around for eight hours with no clients.

Street rates vary, and are not necessarily any cheaper, says Eva.

The most visible part of the industry is also a tiny minority, accounting for about 2.5 per cent of workers.

However, it is street walkers and small owner-operated brothels (SOOBs) that attract the negative press.

Healy says there is still a lot of confusion about SOOBs. Up to four prostitutes can work together as equals, but as soon as one manages another, they have to get a brothel operator's certificate.

Then there is the huge variation in local council bylaws, with some strictly limiting areas for SOOBs and street work while others have free range.

"It's a mix right across the country, the ground's uneven," says Healy.

On balance, she reckons the vast majority of brothels are now working within the law.

"There were teething problems in the beginning but they've been teased out," she says. "We've had very, very few situations that have erupted in 11 years."

For big owner-operated brothels (yes, BOOBs), there are also several barriers.

Wellington's sex industry kingpins the Chow brothers, who declined to be interviewed, infamously had to scrap plans for a mega-brothel in the heart of Auckland's CBD.

Brennan says she has invested an enormous amount of time and money into meeting legal and council standards to the highest level.

Despite the high prices, running a brothel is not a way to get rich, she says.

"It's a living, but it's a lot of work."

The conservative financial services industry can often be difficult to deal with, she says.

"You ring a bank for a loan, tell them what you do, they don't want to know about you."

About half of all landlords also say no to lease applications straight away.

"People think strip bars, neon lights, drugs, girls, drunken men. That's not what it's about," says Brennan.

"You don't see people like us, we trade on discretion."

Insurers take every opportunity to add extra expenses, supposedly because of historic fire-bombings, and even credit card companies add a premium specifically for the sex industry, Brennan says.

"We're an easy target. We still need to use the same business facilities as anyone else."

While she admits her openness often causes her problems, she refuses to hide.

"I'm proud of it. I fight for this industry, it's my passion," says Brennan.

"These people choose to do this, and they're happy doing it. They're not hurting anybody, in fact it's exactly the opposite. We should start respecting their choice."

- Wellington

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