IT happened again this month, a familiar pop culture cycle: the provocative pose, the righteous fuss, the blushing assurance that no offense was intended. This time around it involved actresses from “Glee” in GQ magazine, tapping into their inner tramps. Not long ago it was Miley Cyrus in Vanity Fair, giving the world a glimpse, or rather a glimmer, or really just the slightest insinuation, of her breasts.

The starlets change, the story doesn’t. If a young female performer with a relatively straight-laced image wants to take full charge of her brightest future, she apparently has to do some time on the pole.

That was the missing acknowledgment in the hullabaloo, both genuine and disingenuous, over the “Glee” photographs, which showed Dianna Agron in a very short plaid skirt and Lea Michele in white panties, legs spread wide. These images were less shocking than predictable, part of an established gallery that includes not only Miss Cyrus but also Britney Spears, who at one point proclaimed that she was a “Slave 4 U” (and demonstrated as much with a snake), in addition to Christina Aguilera, who got down and “Dirrty,” as the song was titled and spelled, in chaps and little else.

All began their careers with a preponderance of fans in the bubblegum set and traced the same celebrity arc, by which Disney tiara is exchanged for Victoria’s Secret teddy and the sweet princess becomes a sweaty temptress. If she’s lucky, she then proceeds quickly to some amalgam of the two, her diversifying mission accomplished. If not, she’s Lindsay Lohan.