So, what to chat to you about discerning reader for this very special issue of Stylist? Well, there seems to me one very obvious and delicious subject for the autumn while my favourite programme is shining like a rainbow glitter ball in the television schedules – dancing.
When it started four weeks ago I began to think why I and much of the rest of the nation become so obsessed with Strictly Come Dancing every year. Why do we get so nervous and excited for the celebrities who hit the dancefloor every Saturday night? And I think part of it is how exceptionally un-British it is. A non-dancer having to use their hips, gyrate (good word, gyrate), present themselves as sexy and glamorous, and simply put themselves in such a vulnerable position on that dancefloor on live television. And when they let go we all celebrate, because we wish we could be so brave and European.
Whether we have rhythm or not, we should all learn to let go a bit. Relax those muscles, ignore what you think people might think of you – let’s get a little more demonstrative in the lead up to Christmas. You can do this in a variety of ways. For those of you who know me, I advocate the gallop instead of a run. Trotting is also acceptable. And for both the trot and the gallop you are encouraged to mime holding on to reins. For the very adventurous you could mime a whip manoeuvre. On the dance side, how about a little bopping in the kitchen when buttering your toast; roly-poly in and out of bed; moonwalk to the bathroom; let’s literally and metaphorically get a spring in our British step.
Our main goal should be to be free on the dancefloor in time for Christmas. I love Christmas but the fear of dancing on the office party dancefloor can be a real strain. That sudden heightened awareness of your body and how it struggles to sway inany socially acceptable way. And once you’ve done a few joke Grease moves to pretend you don’t care what people think, then what? Quick, take your phone out of your pocket, then leave pointing to it and pretending you’ve got to make a vital call.
“Dancing when you’re as tall as I am goes beyond indignity and into a health and safety risk”
My problem is that dancing when you’re as tall as I am goes beyond indignity and strays into a health and safety risk. I simply don’t have any control over my limbs. Once, at awedding, I attempted to ‘mosh’ (which, for any older readers, is simply jumping up and down in a large group), and I got a bit carried away… and… well, let’s just say… that marquee structure clearly wasn’t stable enough with me clinging on to one of its poles in a brief moment of misplaced confidence and I brought the whole thing down. My dancefloor bravado has since been lost. Although it was very amusing. Aunts swept off chairs by a marquee ceiling swooping down and forcing them into a flower bed. Much flailing to escape from the billowing sail-like structure. A swearing vicar. All the stuff that makes life worth living.
You think drink is the answer – it’s not. You might briefly become more liberated that night but the next morning the flashes of what you actually looked like dancing on your own, to Lady In Red, with your glass of wine while throwing peanuts in the air and trying to catch them sexily in your mouth is too much to bear. You simply can’t walk into work with any dignity ever again. And the point of this article-ette is to stress that we need to let go withoutdependency on alcohol.
For if we are truly free on the dancefloor, it might lead to all sorts of positive reinforcement in everyday life. Perhaps your husband or wife might find themselves in a romantic tango hold of an evening; maybe you’ll walk to the bus stop, your shoulders back, feeling like you can take on the world; or you might imagine you are a leading character in a musical, gliding elegantly through life. That’s got to make you feel better about it all. So whether or not you take inspiration from Strictly, throw caution to the wind, forget what anyone thinks of you, and by Christmas I want us all salsa-ing and galloping past each other in the street. Such fun! Happy Birthday Stylist. And happy dancing.
Picture credits: Rex Features
