A New Direction

Last night as I was driving back from class I had a sudden flash of understanding. My Tuesday group has been the bane of my life this term what with the tiny shorts some members will insist on wearing, the complete refusal by others to move more than four inches to the right or left regardless of the fact that it's a BLOODY DANCE CLASS and the general moaning that they're expected to do exercise in an exercise class that they've chosen and paid to do. One lady though, I'll call her Nancy, has baffled and bothered me above all others - never in 36 years of dancing have I met anyone with such a total absense of co-ordination. Not a lack, not a question of using one leg when everyone else is using the other, not a mere matter of not being able to do arms and legs at the same time or walk in time to music or any of those minor difficulties, Nancy seems unable to distinguish between moving and standing still. She is the living embodiment of the phrase about not knowing one's arse from one's elbow.

But last night it became clear - she has actually developed her own method of movement, I truly believe that she will be heralded in the dance community of the future as a trail blazer in the same vein as Isadora Duncan. There will be classes on how to smack yourself in the eye with your own elbow when all you've been asked to do is gently move one shoulder. How to interpret the phrase 'just kneel down' into 'please balance on one forearm and the back of your head'.

She is a genius. And I think I love her.

This in turn led to another flash, so what if you're tipping 20 stone and have a bus pass - wear hot pants! Why the hell not? You go Marie, that's a camel toe of proportions that should be made public. The look of surprise on the faces of the Yummy Mummy's with their head to foot Boden was worth it alone for me.