Gonna Dance Off Both My Shoes

He Goes:

We spoke about clothes a little while ago, but obviously some of the things you wear are more important than others. You could wear your pyjamas without it affecting your dancing - you might find it more difficult (or easier, I don't know) to get partners, but the actual dancing wouldn't be any different.

Wear your slippers, though, and you're going to have a bad time.

Yep, it's the shoes that make the dance. I resisted dance shoes for a long time - really I've only had proper dance shoes for perhaps seven or eight months out of two years swing dancing and three years on-and-off ballroom before that.

It could be that I was making too much of a man thing of it. There's that unwritten rule that to be properly masculine is to have as few pairs of shoes as possible. Shoes are fungibles, undistinguished things that get us from one place to another. When they wear out, you don't shed any tears. You roll your eyes and sigh, and think "ugh, I have to buy another pair of shoes." Then you get whatever's on the discount rack and is black and in your size, and away you go. To some extent it's a pretty good way to live. It's easier to store one pair of shoes than it is ten, obviously, and despite what people think, actually very few people either notice or give a shit. I wore black high-tops when I was a best man, and only one person spotted it.

But once you scrape off the gloss of fashion shoes are of course pretty utilitarian, and there's a lot of difference between, say, wandering around an office and hiking over a mountain. That's two pairs of shoes immediately, and neither of them would do for running. So you're on the road to having a reasonable number of pairs of shoes and what the hell is wrong with that.

There are three different things I've thought about when buying shoes. First of all, I'm a heavy guy, so I want shoes that I won't damage my partners in. The first pair of shoes I bought specifically for dancing in (although they're not dance shoes, so I'm going to say this doesn't count for calendar purposes) were Jingas - fabric-topped with light soles, designed for capoiera but suitable for salsa. They weren't good ballroom shoes, and they would be bloody awful for swing, but they did save a toe or two, I think. 

Second, the sole is - well, the sole can make the difference between looking pretty good on the floor and looking amazing, as far as I can tell. For the last eight months (up until last week) I was swing dancing in suede-soled ballroom shoes from Bloch. Suede is incredible - slippery but not too slippery, you don't realise how much some moves (20's Charleston's heel swivelling, for instance) relies on having shoes which don't cling onto the floor like it's the last time they're going to see it. I've heard that having less grippy shoes can reduce torque on joints, making them less likely to injure you, too. They also make me taller, which is okay although I suspect it makes following just that one percent more difficult. It takes a while to get used to the properties of unfamiliar soles, but that process was interesting in itself - I think it let me develop a much looser style. (Which I must now try not to do all the time so that it becomes the only style I can do, but..)

Finally, there is the look - the least important, I think, although there's no point having the safest, best-soled shoes ever if they look ridiculous. I'm currently dancing in red and black brogues from Johnson Shoes of Wallington: leather soled at the front of the foot, rubber-heeled, yet another unfamiliar combination that I have to get used to, but that's not so bad.

Shoes, in the brief period between arrival and being scuffed to all get out.

She Goes:

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I hate shoes.

Nah, I’m just kidding.

When I first started dancing I wore a pair of knackered out but much loved green high top converse. My dossing-about shoes. Once it became clear that my knees would appreciate a little less friction on my feet, I took myself off to Chinatown and spent $4 on a pair of ‘gymnast shoes’, which were basically plimsolls without a structured sole, but with a thick layer of suede instead.

Whoooooooooooooossssshhhhhhh! Speedy slippy fun times for me! Probably not the best choice in terms of support for my lower back, or protection from any wayward spike heels worn by a fellow follow on the d-floor, but still! Spoon’s First Shoeses. My friends all chuckled at them. They did look faintly ridiculous I must admit, but I didn’t want to commit any money to shoes for a habit that wasn’t yet sure would stick. (And I know I loved dancing straight away, but there’s an expensive pair of salsa shoes crying gently in a box somewhere in my nana’s garage, next to the yoga mats…)

I used those bad boys for about 4 months before I decided something a little more solid would probably be better (and draw less sceptical looks). Hello red plimsolls with red-and-white-striped elastic instead of laces. (£6, H&M). Apart from the same jokes about missing laces week in, week out, these little pups were quite good. A bit snug but they broke in nicely. Not as slippy as my gym slippers though.

The next pair were bought in the sale in a half-tipsy hurry as I’d forgotten to pick up my dance kit before work and the chum I’d met after my shift had allowed me to persuade her to come dancing. (I was in DMs so keeping those on wasn’t going to happen, really). I got some Fred Perry thingies. (£19) They were fashion shoes though, and the laced part didn’t fully cover the top of my foot, so after a couple of weeks of blissful dancing (as they were both burgundy and slightly more slippery) they stopped feeling suitable as the fabric stretched out. I’ve got quite wide feet and the shoes just couldn’t really keep up with all the action they were getting…. Bow-chicka-wow-wow…!

For my birthmas at the end of the summer last year I got some money, and with that I went merrily skipping to a highly regarded emporium of all things pretty and dance related and hooked myself up with some Aris Allen suede soled plimsolls. (£50) Check me out with my actual dance shoes. I’m an actual dancer. I take my dancing seriously. No, seriously!

Happy knees. And hips. Arch support? Yes please! Slippady-do-da? You know it!

So continued a few months of heaven- and just before Christmas I bit the bullet and bought some dancing heels.  (Aris Allen again, £69) I don’t even wear heels in ‘real life’, people. This was a monumental moment for me. Borne partly from a need to have some ‘smart’ shoes to dance in (pretty dress + shabby shoes = not quite the look I want) That day I commited to dance in a way that I hadn't before.

Wow, the difference I feel when I dance in them is massive. If you’ve ever lead me on the floor, you’ll know I have quite a wiggly, flirty style. These heels increase the wiggle factor by at least 10! Dancing in them makes my reign a lot of my moves in, as I need to stay focused on my core balance. I’m super aware of my heels (in terms of whether they’re lifted or not) and my ‘attitude’ gets more prominence in my posture. Initially I couldn’t do a full night in them but now I flippin’ love them! And they’re fast becoming so worn that I may need to get some actual ‘smart’ shoes. I’ll give it a month or 4 though.

A small thought bubble on heels- I personally think that it’s not a good idea to wear thin/spike heels on a dance floor. (Height I’m not fussed about- if you can swing out in 6 inch platforms then you are more of a woman then I will ever be, and I bow to your superior skills) If it’s not a block heel or a wedge then you are putting your fellows at serious and very real risk of injury. If you are wearing thin heels then you must be comfortable in them, and that’s great. However, please consider the idea that however confident you are in keeping your feet to yourself and not skewering a fellow dancers' Achilles tendon, you are not the only person dancing. You’re surrounded by a large amount of other dancers, and accidents will happen, collisions will occur; do you want to have the guilt of potentially ruining someone’s swing career? I thought not.

Sorry, that’s turned into a bit of a rant, there (and I’d told Keith I probably wouldn’t have much to say on this subject!) but it is serious, this last bit. Please wear something chunkier on the floor and save the flesh-skewering fuck-me-heels for the walk to the after party.