Down South Camp Meeting

This week's post follows a time-honoured tradition: what we did on our summerspring holidays. Although actually it's more like "what she did on her spring holidays, and what he did while she was away on her spring holidays, because he didn't go away".

He Goes:

It's tempting, if you live in London (or on its outskirts, as I do) to forget that there are places outside the city where you can also go dancing. After all, if there are so many socials and classes on that your question is not "is there dancing tonight?" but "which one do I go to?" (and that is certainly the case), there's no real need to look any further.

But there are classes outside London, and socials. From where I am, in the suburbs, it's just as easy to get to Windsor or Reading as it is to get to central London. Since I have a friend in Reading who regularly comes into London to meet up at socials, I returned the favour this weekend and went out to Reading Swing Jam 7.

When you mainly dance in the same places you tend to get used to who to dance with and when. You get used to the idea that W is a brilliant follow but she always has to go early, so you get your dances in as soon as possible after class, that X will stay to the end, that Y will come and ask you for a dance if she's free, but Z will have to be asked. You can get a grip on how to fill your time, and for me personally the only time I'll be sat out is if the night is lead heavy and all the follows are on the floor (which might be a little irksome, but only a proper curmudgeon could be upset about other people having fun - especially the poor follows who have to sit out so many dances under normal circumstances).

Going to somewhere new is like being a beginner dancer again. You have no idea who's going to be good or who you're going to be good enough for - or rather, whose style is going to click with yours and vice versa - and the vexing question of technique means that you can't necessarily even rely on your follow being able to do moves in the same way you're used to. I was incredibly shy when I first started swing dancing - I think it took me two weeks to get from going dancing to asking one person to dance during the night. When I go to a social where I know hardly anyone I feel a little of that coming back. Of course, the general rule of politeness is that you don't turn down dances without a good reason, so once I'm a few dances in I'm usually back on the horse, but the start can be a little shaky.

So worth it, though! There are good times to be had dancing with new follows, clever breaks to be learnt, the joy of showing off a signature move and having your partner experience it for the first time (apologies to my regular follows for all the things that I think are so cool but which you probably have to see from me every week). There are also a few experiences at a pure social that you can't get under normal circumstances - for instance, there were a few people at the social on Saturday who'd never done partnered swing-dancing before (they'd come a long from a solo Charleston workshop early on that afternoon), so I taught three people how to dance while dancing with them - a surprisingly rewarding feeling.

It wasn't a particularly busy event by any means (unusually quiet, my friend tells me), but that was okay. There was enough floorspace for all the couples on the dance floor to be able to swing out, enough people for a decent showing when a Shim-Sham started, and in general a good night. I doubt that anyone reading this needs reminding, but: go to new places sometimes, and dance with new people. You'll (usually) have a blast.

£170 Fri-Mon all inclusive? Seems pretty reasonable...

She Goes:

I just got back from Hep Cats Holiday. Phew, I'm knackered!

It was my first dance holiday, and I booked it mainly to celebrate my first swingiversary and get my social dance on, rather than expand my knowledge.

In hindsight I should have paid more attention to the music line up, as well as the background of the organisation putting the event on, as it was far more rock and rolling than I was originally expecting ( I thought it would be an even mix rather than heavily weighted towards R'n'R). I'm not saying it was a bad thing, just that next time I'm going to think a little more before I decide to go somewhere! It was fun and interesting to immerse myself in a different facet of the vintage dance scene, even if it's not where I'm at personally.

Keith makes a valid point about these sort of events making you feel like a beginner again, when you rock up and know next to nobody. Sadly one of our group had to drop out due to illness, so we were a modest party of 3. Most groups were easily double that, and on the first night there seemed to be very little interaction between the pockets of people. Maybe it's the scene or the age group the music attracts (and I mean that last part in the nicest possible way) but couples tended to stick to themselves and their cliques, and unless you were a known face it was a little unnerving asking for dances (as I sure wasn't getting asked for many!!)

I was so homesick for my regular dance friends I can't even begin to tell you. And I'm a big fan of throwing myself in at the deep end socially, rocking up solo and diving right in... but I missed the familiar faces. It was a weekend long party- it felt strange to not be sharing it with the people I know and love. (I did write about it elsewhere if you want more in-depth half-baked half-caffeinated meanderings)

Doing classes helped to break the ice a bit, and a friend from a different group reintroduced me to a few people I've danced with occassionally, which helped me to ease into it. I hadn't thought I'd feel that way though... I'll be prepared for it next time!

It's undeniable the benefits of dancing with complete strangers though, as Keith has already mentioned, so I won't labour the point on that front. I'm very pleased to say that I danced with 3 of the teachers from the weekend. It took me a little while to work up the nerve (and to drink a couple of rums) but I'm so pleased I did. I tend to feel a bit weary in approaching teachers that I'm not already friends with because I don't want to crowd them. One part of my job is making small talk with complete strangers all day, which is why sometimes in the evening I'm quiet with people I don't know- because I want a break! I imagine dance teachers feel somewhat similar. But then, if they're out socially then surely they are in the mood for a dance? ...I think the thing is to approach in a relaxed manner, after all, everyone will be wanting to ask them! Avoid asking after a particularly fast dance, and ask with a smile, and leave with a smile if someone a) beats you to it or b) they turn you down. And if you do score a dance, chill out! You're not auditioning to be their new dance partner!! AND! Do. Not. Ask. For. Feedback. Unless. It. Is. Offered. The social dancefloor is not the time or the place for such things.

So to sum up; I had a smashing time. I stayed out late and missed lessons because I favoured partying and napping over learning! I danced with lots of old dudes, wore dresses with skirts that flashed my swing pants at every turn (perhaps why I was so popular with the aforementioned gentlemen), learnt to pace myself (well, kind of, in terms of dancing 7 hours a night 3 nights in a row), and break through being psyched out by not knowing anyone.

Things I will remember for next time; get feedback from peers before booking somewhere and break through the fear barrier.

Spoon, over and out.

Introducing the Band

He Goes:

Live bands! Where to begin? There's nothing like the energy of a live band night - a crowded floor (perhaps made a little more crowded by the fact that there's a band set up on part of it), high-energy music, the ultimate in high-def sound.

If you've never danced to live music before, a live band is a revelation. There's a (for want of a better word) liveliness to it that you can't get from recorded music. If you're afraid to be the first on the dance floor you needn't be, because there are already people in the room performing. You needn't be the centre of attention when there are musicians to look at. If you're particularly lucky, as the one couple on the floor you might even get a bit of feedback from the group - not after your dance but during it.

Dancing to live music can be a difficult proposition, though. When you're used to a certain class you get accustomed to particular songs - they're comfortable and predictable, and once you've heard something two or three times you've probably (although you may not know it) memorised the breaks. You'll get no prescient advantage with live music - the arrangements are bound to be different, and if the band is good they may well be able to change it on the fly in order to add in solo sections. You'll have to understand the way that music works - musicality classes might come in handy here, but personally I can never work out during a song what the structure of it is going to be, and I have to rely on cues in the music - crescendos and so forth, which can be misleading (anyone who's ever danced to Glenn Miller's "In the mood" will know just how misleading).

Not only do you need to be responsive to the music, you also need to be much fitter physically to dance to live band sets than to recorded music. When I'm in good form I usually work a two-dance system - two dances with each follow unless she's in a hurry to move on. With recorded music you're typically with the same partner for six or seven minutes. Do the same thing with a band set and you can be dancing with someone non-stop for quarter of an hour. Not that I mind dancing with someone for longer than usual, you understand - I've found very few follows that I'm eager to get away from! But dancing without a break for close to ten minutes is hard on the getaway sticks, and since it takes two to Lindy, a couple is only as fit as the least healthy individual.

Exacerbating this is the fact that some bands only have one setting: light speed. I've been to at least one live band social where the music was so fast that if you weren't competent with Balboa and 20's Charleston or a swing-out superstar all that you could do was to try to keep up. I had to make my apologies to a couple of follows and arrange to meet later, when the beat was a little slower.

For all my moaning about how difficult dancing to a live band can be, though, I do love it. When the whole place is jumping and the band are on fire you're getting the full experience - the music inspiring the dancers and the dance feeding back into the band so that they can see (even feel) the effect of their playing. That's dancing at its finest.

But like anything at its finest, I don't think I could work on a 100% live schedule. Every few weeks seems like roughly the ideal for me - enough time to let me cool down between red hot evenings, to regroup and enjoy some familiar music, but not too infrequent.

Well played boys, well played; the Shirt Tail Stompers

She Goes:

I LOVE LIVE BANDS. You can't beat the buzz in the air and the joy in the ears! I grew up around live music so if I never danced to pre-recorded music again I wouldn't complain.

I'm probably known to have a two-dance system like Keith, but I stick to it even for live music. I get such a high from the music, I want to share it with my lead while I can- as I've noticed that all the leads seem to get snapped up so much quicker on band nights!

I am more likely to sit songs out for band nights though- because they do last that much longer. Plus I do want the opportunity to watch the band and chill out, socialise with the familiar faces drawn out of the woodwork by the temptation of duelling clarinets. (By the by, I saw a three-way clarinet break down with the Shirt Tail Stompers a few months ago- probably one of my happiest moments in dancing-to-live-music-history!)

Keith and I were trying to figure out the pros and cons of dancing to bands. I'm still detirmined that there are no cons. Except when the band has to end and they've run out of encore tracks ;)

Lindy Is Not The Only Fruit

He Goes:

Today something a little different - other dances. As I've mentioned before, I started dancing with ballroom and latin, which led on to Swing due to the enthusiasm of people at one of my regular dance classes. I still do ballroom and latin, but it's a distant second to Lindy Hop.

The main thing about ballroom classes is that where Lindy Hop is a long-term relationship, ballroom is like speed dating. There are roughly ten different dances, and classes tend not to focus long-term on one particular dance. You meet a dance for a couple of weeks, maybe, just long enough to get the basics and perhaps a fancy move or two, and then you move on to the next one. Sometimes this is a blessing (when you get a dance you really don't like - for me, the Foxtrot), sometimes a curse.

The dance I'd say I like best out of all the ballroom and latin dances is the Cha-Cha, and in no small part I think it's because it shares a lot of the great features of Lindy. For one thing, the basic steps are frighteningly similar: anyone who's done an eight-count basic almost has the rhythm for a cha-cha: step, replace, triple-step, step, replace, triple-step. There's a Lindy move I'm told Frankie Manning sometimes taught which he called the cha-cha, even. The cha-cha-cha triple step needs the same fast footwork that a Lindy triple needs, but after it there's the same little respite in the form of the slower step-replace so that it's energetic without being relentless.

It's also eminently leadable, and from the very first I've always been interested in leadable dances. Although in theory all ballroom and latin dances are led, the number of different styles and holds sometimes makes it quite difficult for a follow to know exactly what pattern she's being taken into - not to mention that with so many leads to learn it's even more common in ballroom for leads to just remember their steps and rely on the follows to remember too. Cha-cha has a bunch of nice simple leads, though - lifting the hand up for a turn, sending it across for a new-yorker, palm-to-palm for an outside turn, once you have those three leads down, a lot of the other moves are simply variations on the same thing (leading quicker, or interrupting the follow's movement, that sort of thing).

Again, similar to Lindy, Cha-cha is danced in place, which means that you don't have to worry quite so much about floorcraft (I know floorcraft is pretty important in Lindy, but there's a different quality to it in ballroom, particularly in the progressive dances. It's hard enough focusing on your own dance, without having to dodge through and around a stream of other couples. A crowded ballroom floor full of beginner waltzers can often resemble the asteroid-dodging scene of The Empire Strikes Back more than a dance from a period drama). It's nice to be able to pick a spot and stay there, sometimes.

Finally, it's a nice social dance. It doesn't need much room, it's lively and can be danced to a wide variety of music (like Lindy it's danced to 4/4 time, but it fits modern music a little better), and because of the short moves and easily-led patterns you often actually get to dance it in class where you might not get to do much in the other dances except go through a routine a couple of times.

Of course, it has its disadvantages. Like all ballroom dances, as I say, you do a little bit of cha-cha and then move on. It's also not so easy to be creative, and - not one for the dancers, obviously, but important for motivation - I don't think it looks as good as Lindy. All that said, though - if swing dancing is ever banned in your town in some very specific re-enactment of Footloose, you might do worse than taking a cha-cha-chance on it.

Massive frilly arms and dog are considered optional for modern cha-cha

She Goes:

Keith you won a gold star for referring to Star Wars and then lost it with that awful groaner of a pun at the end!

I don't have as much dance experience as Keith, I dabbled in 'ballroom' as a young teenager and tried salsa a few years ago. The only thing I have to compare and contrast lindy with is blues.

Having said that, I'm now thinking about the differences between salsa and blues... I think there's similarities there. (A basic step with a hip twitch, anyone?) I rather enjoyed salsa, but I always found it difficult dealing with the proximity of my leads. And here I am now, dancing the blues, up close and personal and doing things with my hips with near strangers - and not even batting an eyelash at it!

But yes. Blues and lindy. There are obvious differences such as speed of music, energy, simplicity of steps, and socially there seems to be less peril on the dance floor. (In terms of injury!)... But from this point, for me at least, vast differences appear. I have a different emotional response to a successful blues dance, compared to lindy.

After a bangin' swing sesh I'm buzzing. Excitable, grinning from ear to ear and in all likeliness, a sweaty knackered mess. I get the kind of post Lindy high that I used to get after a particularly strenuous yoga class. Serene. And a bit achey.

After a good bluesing I'm so relaxed it's bordering on ridiculous. I feel extremely chilled out but also alert. I'm less sweating like a horse, more glowing like the embers of an open fire. The post blues high is heightened physical one. I'm aware of each flick of my fingertips, the weight shift from hip to hip, the breeze on my neck from the cool night air.

I also worry less when I dance the blues. Regular readers may have heard me bang on about thinking less and dancing more- this certainly works with blues. Well it currently does. I don't need to worry so much about lead signals being missed because so much is lead with the body. (See, I'm not being a perv, full body contact is a plus!)

Not that I'm fretting frantically when dancing Lindy! I suppose it's a slightly unfair comparison with the two. Lindy is my long term relationship, the thrill and butterflies from anticipating good dance have gone, although the deep satisfaction from being bang on the money stays with me for longer. (Last night i had a couple of smashers with a favourite lead- we haven't had it that good for a little while and we both commented on it afterwards) I miss it when I don't do it. It's a physical ache for it, genuinely like my other half has left for a few days and I can't sleep the first night alone in bed without them.

I'm in the first rushes of love with blues. I get restless with excitement, I wonder what to wear, who I will have the best dances with.

I think I'm going to have to stop here before I spin off into ridiculousness... But I think to sum up I do believe its a good idea to dip your toes into something different from time to time. It helps you break outside the box, and approach your regular style with refreshed eyes.

Ps The Savoy Ball has sold out now! Haven't got your ticket yet?! Oh... Shame... However some tickets maybe be offered up by people who now can't come- stay peeled to the Facebook page and cross your lovely fingers!

Got My Arms, Got My Hands...

He Goes:

"How do you dance?" Spoon messaged me, last week.A big question, but what she meant was - what level of thing am I aware of when I'm dancing? Am I conscious of each limb? What am I thinking about? I was certainly conscious of each limb while I was thinking about the question, since having finally been laid low by the winter cold all of my limbs were like inside-out baked alaska - a freezing cold top centimetre surrounding a blob of molten muscle and bone. But when dancing? Not so much.

I guess what I'm thinking about at any one moment is all down to who I'm dancing with, and when I'm dancing. I try (not always successfully) to dance from my core, so that the lead is my whole body. Most moves in Lindy don't require particularly complicated arm movements, so the only time I think of the movement of my limbs is when I'm being told to relax by a teacher, say, or when I have a "danger limb" - that is to say, if I'm about to do something that might be dangerous for me, my follow, or someone around us, either physically or morally. Consequently my left leg (most likely to do a mule kick) and my right arm (most likely to accidentally grab something I shouldn't) get a disproportionate amount of my attention limb-wise. But I do dangerous things only very rarely, so it's not something that takes up a lot of my mind.

I think a fair bit about my weight. Not as in "does this waistcoat make me look fat", obviously, but what foot I'm on, and what foot my partner is on, in case I need to force them to change weight (or change weight myself) for a move. I'm usually not bad at it, although it helps to have a handful of regular follows who are so quick at changing their weight that I would be unable to wrong-foot them even if I tried. If I'm dancing with a beginner, particularly someone who's having trouble getting the basic footwork right, this is almost all that I'm thinking about. My mind's in the system of weight, of contraction and release in my right arm, encouraging the follow to pull away from me a little so that the rock-step can happen, transferring my own weight from left to right and taking her with me. If the follow's a little better I think about the pressure on my right arm - on the bottom of the arm when I'm travelling forward, on the top of the arm when I'm travelling backwards.

If I'm dancing with someone experienced, I think about the music. Where are we in the song? How many phrases until the next big feature? I'm not much of a counter - I don't know most songs well enough to know how many bars there are to each section, but I can remember that a song might be reaching a crescendo or a twiddly bit, and then I'm thinking about what basic moves I can do to mark time until/prepare for whatever's coming in the music. But I'm also keeping an eye on what my follow is doing in case she does something neat and I have to abort my lead to let her do it. It's sort of like a spot the difference quiz - if my follow is sufficiently experienced I assume she won't make mistakes, so anything she does which is unexpected drags my attention there instantly so that I can do something about it (either just admire it, or do the last move I did again so that she - or both of us, sometimes - can do whatever clever footwork she's proposing).

Both lead and follow are thinking about the placement of that hand!

She Goes:

Ha, Keith, I’d completely forgotten about that! So… what do I think about when dancing…?

Up until recently I had a pretty strict policy of not really thinking whilst dancing. No, seriously. Quite early on I got myself all tangled up in fretting about my following skills and a lead friend of mine told me to think less, and dance more. That’s pretty much one of my mantras now.

In some respects that it my main MO when it comes to dancing. I’d like to think I’m a reasonably intuitive follow because of it. Naturally there has been some level of physical awareness, although it seems so second nature to me now that I barely register it. Things like ensuring a good connection with my left arm, keeping any unclasped hands at waist level… It meant that I wasn’t a very grounded dancer though. I frequently back led; I think it was because I’d get caught up in having so much fun.

But there’s nothing like a plateau to make you address your level and your approach. I had a couple of conversations with a couple of leads I hold in high regard, and it lead to me looking long and hard about key element in my dancing. (Remember last week I mentioned I was pretty analytical about my dancing? That was the day I took a long hard look at myself …)

I now have a veritable array of things to think about- a smorgasbord, if you will. I am trying to be a lot more physically present in my body. I am thinking about my feet (trying to make steps smaller and keep them under me) my weight (in relation to my leads’ weight as well as in relation to my steps), my shoulders (frame, people, frame!), my fingers (listening and responsive), and my arm. (Listening)… I’m also thinking about my lead. Their tension, what they’re telling me other than the moves they’re leading. I alternate between feeling as though I am a giant ear dancing, or a bumper car that no one can control!!

Pfff, it used to be so simple! I’d just rock up, swing out and go home… But if I want to get a badass technique as standard I need to work on all of these things and plenty more so that it becomes second nature.

Swungover? We Know The Feeling...

He Goes:

I almost never drink when I'm dancing - for something that energetic the last thing I want is to have no balance or coordination. I guess some people like to have a pint for dutch courage, but mostly I'm not too different from other dancers there.

So what's going on? I've had a great night out, danced my shoes off with some amazing follows, drunk nothing except some lemonade, and yet here I am the next morning: bleary-eyed, parched, aching and cursing the sun. 

Oh, right. I'm swungover.

The little brother of the post-dance blues, more ubiquitous but always late to the party, it really is weirdly like a hangover. A general malaise, proof that no matter how it is you have your good time, you have to pay some sort of bill sooner or later.

I wonder whether part of it is chemical - maybe you just can't keep up that level of enjoyment for that many hours without some sort of crash afterwards. (Maybe I should be eating more food that contains the precursors of endorphins?)

Whether that's true or not, it's definitely part physical part psychological. The aches and pains and bleary eyes are what you'd expect if you (say) exercised for four hours straight and probably didn't drink enough liquids. No mystery there. But they seem worse than they actually are because now all the benefits are in the past. Yesterday me stayed at the social for another hour because there were more follows he wanted to dance with, or more dances to be had with follows he'd already danced with. He wasn't thinking about poor today me, the selfish prick. Today me has no-one to dance with, but he's got all the extra aches and pains that yesterday me racked up (not to mention a little video album of the fun yesterday me was having playing at the back of his head).

In the year 3000 they still Lindy-Hop, but in vintage anti-gravity hoop-clothes.

She Goes:

Urgh, the love/hate feeling I have for being swungover. (I'm swungover as I type this, by the by.)

I spent most of yesterday thinking about, talking about and then finally, actually swinging out. When the time came for me to get on the D-floor (and I was there, plimsolls on, ready to go) I was far more analytical and physically focused on my moments then I am normally. (As my standard is to get on, let go and then flop, spent, in a corner.)

Resisting the tangent of talking about physical focus as much as possible, I think that because I hadn't just let go as usual, it's saved me some of the swungover pain today.

I do also like the sensation of knowing I danced my little socks off. Waking up and aching as i roll over to find my bloody phone and press the bloody snooze button. That's the first sign. Feeling stiff as I get out of bed. While I wait for the kettle to boil I do little stretches, and test out where the main aches are... today I also have a whinging neck from where I clearly slept on it funny. And aching knees from breaking in some new Keds pumps and having residual aches from my fading bruises (I was pleased i took my suedes with me last night but they are borderline FUBAR)... and slightly aching legs from my first adventure with a Boris Bike... but that general wooden feeling of slowness and thirst; classic swungover.

I know Keith had a little whinge about it but I generally think it's a good thing. I chose to do these things. I would much rather have this from choice instead of, say, being beaten with a stick to dubstep music. And let's not forget the post-dance high you get from a reallllly good night. I had such a good night on Thursday that I was in a brilliant mood for ALL of Friday and Saturday. I have decided to call this the Dafterglow.

You're welcome. Use it. Let's give it some currency!

So, how does one remedy being swungover? Taking the next day off! (Or, at least, taking it easy)... Drink plenty of fluids, and eat some bananas. Try and avoid heavy foods and any artificial stimulants. Oh alright, you'll need the tea/coffee in the morning, but don't drink any in the evening if at all possible- you want to have a nice natural sleep so your body can catch up with itself. And while we're on the subject, why not try getting an early night? (she says, fully aware that she rarely takes that option....)

I also give my ears a break from the usual and dive into a bug pile of rock, hip hop and soul. Ahhh.

Any hints or tips you'd care to share, chaps?

He Goes, She Goes, We Go!

He Goes:

I'll let Spoon explain this one...

She Goes:

So I was followed by a man with a beard and flat cap for a week before Xmas. He was carrying a camera for all of that time- and here is a little snippet of what he captured.

I'd like to apologise on Keith's behalf for his serious face, and our general laziness. (Rest assured we've been critiquing ourselves pretty severely after seeing this for the first time a few days ago!)

Watching this does make me smile; it reminds me why I love dancing with him. It's familiar and comfortable, but always fun. I don't feel nervous dancing with him.

It's a shame the clip ends early- we bust out some bad-ass aerials right at the end... No, really!! *dishonest*

We Go:

http://vimeo.com/m/59243877

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:

-->

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.