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  • What am I doing?
    How did I find myself here?
    The room was spinning,
    actually I was spinning and the room was still.
    I was being twirled and spun,
    lifted and dipped,
    by a man in red slacks, brown braces and slick, quiffed hair.
    Colours and ribbons and pearls and mirrors and lights sweeped across my eyes.

    A year or so ago while waiting at Liverpool Street Tube Station,
    a very interesting character came up to me.
    A tall, incredibly flamboyant man minced over and put his hand on my fur jacket,
    Words flocked out of him like doves....
    " your hair is amazing, and so's the fur, are you a dancer? no? well you should be, I'm Cris and sometimes Christine on a burlesque night, I love the nylons, you should think about being vintage dancer, all that glamour, you'd suit it, fabulous, here's my number, no, do take it, I'll dress you heels and we should go dancing with the girls...."
    His words were rolling over me, I tried to capture the sentences, tried to process them.
    Yes an interesting character.
    I took his number but never did anything with it but he did plant a seed in my mind.

    Could I be a dancer? Burlseque was coming in to fashion, it was glamourous not sleezy.
    And I do like fur.
    Nipple tassles - no, but fur...
    The tiniest key I had to this world was a PussyCat Dolls workout dance dvd that included a burlesque section.
    I'm one of those people that if I see someone performing an art, I always think "I wish I could do that."
    Most people would leave it at that but I have to try these things out.
    The last thing I did was ballet lessons a few months ago, which stemmed from watching Black Swan and Billy Elliot the Musical in close suscession.
    After seeing the Circus last week, I googled "trapeeze lessons for beginners."

    Anyway, when I was going through my depressive state at the gym a few weeks back, I wanted a change of life.
    I texted Cris, completely out the blue, to see if he knew any dance classes I could go to.
    He suggested this Swing Dance event.
    A private club in London, 3 floors of dance lessons from the Lindy Hop to the Charleston
    and a bar decked out in all the works of this era.
    I always loved the Lindy Hop and the Jive when watching Strictly Come Dancing,
    and vintage fashion catches my eye too.
    I gasped, I had stepped back in time.
    Men and women danced with trust in each other,
    real love,
    and strength,
    no grinding up and down bodies in strope lighting.
    Things were simple,
    and sweet,
    and full of hope.

    After getting very hot from the first Jive lesson,
    I sat in the bar drinking up the atmosphere when I saw a hand in front of me,
    "Would you like to dance?"
    before I could answer,
    before I could say I have absolutely no swing dancing knowledge,
    or ability,
    and that my natural rhythm is somewhat lacking,
    I was pulled onto the dancefloor,
    and flew into another life.
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