You’re walking down a narrow alleyway where the cobblestones feel uneven under your boots, and suddenly, the glow hits you. It isn't just a soft pink or a harsh neon; it’s a specific, heavy crimson that bleeds out from the red light district windows Amsterdam is famous for. Most people arrive here with a mix of nerves and curiosity. They expect something cinematic. Maybe something like a scene from a gritty 70s noir film.
But the reality? It’s weirder. It’s more domestic.
It’s a workplace.
De Wallen, the neighborhood hosting these windows, is one of the oldest parts of the city. You’ll see a 14th-century church, the Oude Kerk, standing literally feet away from a window where a woman is checking her Instagram while waiting for a client. That juxtaposition is exactly what makes the Dutch approach so jarring for first-timers.
The Logistics of the Glass
Basically, these windows are tiny rented studios. A sex worker doesn't "work for" the building owner in a traditional sense. They are independent entrepreneurs. They rent the space—usually for a day shift or a night shift—and whatever they earn beyond that rent is theirs to keep. You’ll notice the red fluorescent lights framing the door. If the curtains are closed, someone's busy. If they’re open and the light is on, the worker is available.
It’s a marketplace.
Prices aren't posted on the glass like a menu at a bistro. You have to talk. You have to negotiate. Usually, the "standard" starting price for a short encounter has hovered around 50 to 100 Euros for years, but honestly, inflation hits everything, and those prices are increasingly fluid.
💡 You might also like: Flights to Chicago O'Hare: What Most People Get Wrong
Don't expect a standardized experience. Every window reflects the personality of the person behind it. Some are decorated with plush pillows and velvet; others are minimalist. You might see a worker knitting. You might see one reading a book. It’s a job. Sometimes jobs are boring.
The Unwritten (and Written) Rules
There is one rule that will get you in more trouble than anything else: No photos. None.
If you point a camera at a window, you aren't just being rude. You’re threatening someone’s safety and privacy. In the past, angry workers have been known to come out and toss cameras into the canals, or more likely today, police and private security will intervene immediately. Many workers lead double lives. They have families in other cities who don't know what they do for a living. Respect the "no photo" signs pasted everywhere.
Also, don't just stand there and gawk for twenty minutes. It’s fine to look—that’s why they’re in the window—but treat it with the same basic decency you’d give a shopkeeper. If you aren't buying, keep moving. The crowds can get suffocating, especially on Friday nights when the stag parties arrive.
Why the Windows Might Disappear
The city government has been having a bit of a mid-life crisis regarding the Red Light District.
The current mayor, Femke Halsema, has been pushing hard to move the windows to an "Erotic Center" outside the city heart. Why? Because the "overtourism" has turned the neighborhood into a human zoo. Residents who actually live in these beautiful canal houses are tired of people vomiting on their doorsteps.
📖 Related: Something is wrong with my world map: Why the Earth looks so weird on paper
The sex workers themselves are split on this.
- Some want the move because a private center would be safer and away from the cameras of rude tourists.
- Others hate the idea. They argue that the visibility of the windows keeps them safe—nothing happens in the shadows because there are no shadows.
- The history matters. Moving the windows feels, to many, like sanitizing the soul out of Amsterdam to make room for more Nutella waffle shops.
Currently, the plans for the Erotic Center are stalled in bureaucratic hell and local protests from whatever neighborhood is chosen to host it. So, for now, the windows stay. But the number of licenses is being reduced. Every few years, more windows are converted into upscale boutiques or art galleries under "Project 1012," an initiative aimed at cleaning up the area.
The Safety Reality
Is it safe? Generally, yeah.
The Red Light District is one of the most heavily policed spots in Europe. Between the "Red Light Secrets" museum (which is actually worth a visit if you want to see the rooms without the pressure) and the constant flow of pedestrians, violent crime is rare. However, pickpockets thrive here. They love the fact that you’re looking up at the lights and not down at your bag.
What People Get Wrong
People think it’s all human trafficking. While it would be naive to say the industry is 100% clean—no industry involving vulnerable populations is—the Dutch model is built on regulation. Workers must be registered. They must be at least 21. They pay taxes.
There’s a union, too. It’s called Proud. They advocate for the rights of the workers, and if you really want to understand the politics of the windows, checking out their literature is a good start. They’ll tell you that the biggest threat to the workers isn't the clients; it's the government trying to push them into the fringes where they have no legal protection.
👉 See also: Pic of Spain Flag: Why You Probably Have the Wrong One and What the Symbols Actually Mean
How to Visit Like a Human Being
If you’re going to go, go with your eyes open.
Walk through during the day first. The vibe is totally different. It’s quiet. You can see the architecture of the houses, which are some of the most stunning examples of the Dutch Golden Age. Then come back after dark.
- Check your ego. You are in someone’s workplace.
- Keep your hands in your pockets. Don't tap on the glass. It’s annoying and dehumanizing.
- Watch the "Blue" lights. Occasionally, you’ll see blue lights instead of red. Traditionally, this indicates that the worker is transgender. This is a crucial distinction for many clients and a proud part of the district's diversity.
- Explore the side streets. The main drag (Oudezijds Achterburgwal) is a nightmare of crowds. The smaller alleys often have more interesting, independent vibes.
The windows are a paradox. They are a symbol of extreme freedom and a symbol of commodification. They are a tourist trap and a legitimate tax-paying business. Amsterdam is trying to figure out how to be a "normal" city while hosting the world’s most famous party, and the tension is visible in every pane of glass.
Actionable Steps for Your Visit
If you're planning to head to the district, do it right. Start at the Prostitution Information Center (PIC). It was founded by a former worker, Mariska Majoor, and they provide actual, non-sensationalized information. They even do tours led by people who know the industry from the inside.
Skip the tacky "sex shows" that look like they haven't been cleaned since 1982. Instead, grab a beer at Brouwerij de Prael, a fantastic craft brewery right in the heart of the district that focuses on social employment.
Finally, remember that the Red Light District is a residential neighborhood. People are trying to sleep in the apartments above those windows. Keep your voice down, don't buy "drugs" from guys on street corners (it’s usually crushed aspirin or laundry detergent), and treat the people in the windows with the same respect you'd give anyone else.
The future of the windows is uncertain. Whether they stay or move to a purpose-built facility, the culture of the district is shifting toward a more "Disneyfied" version of itself. Catching a glimpse of the real, gritty, complicated version now is better than waiting five years when it might all be behind a paywall in a suburban office park.