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.

Here Comes The Break

He Goes:

I recently left a dance venue with Spoon and another dancer (of whom more later) at the end of an evening. Spoon and I were headed for our respective buses, our companion was on his bike. I'm a fairly keen cyclist too, but Spoon - despite the advantages of cycling in London - was dubious. 

"What if I get in an accident and have to take time off dancing?" she pointed out.

Well, good point. But if you're a dancer there's already something you're doing a lot of that's likely to end up with you seriously injured and having to take time off - dancing itself. At the moment I am nursing three injuries, two of which are definitely dance-related: I tweaked something in my right wrist turning a follow in from a right-to-left hold, and I tore something in the middle toe of my right foot by stepping on it wrong styling a close hold.

That's right. The middle toe. The most protected one. I still have no idea how it happened.

The last injury is probably dance-related too: I'm unable to kneel on my left knee - not on a hard surface, anyway. That came on completely by surprise one morning, but it was after a night of hard dancing so I suspect dance is the culprit there too.

It's at the point where only one of your limbs works entirely correctly that you start to think: Hmm, is this just me getting old, or am I dancing wrong?

Three hours of dancing is pretty serious exercise. Three hours of waltzing is hard enough, but three hours of Lindy Hop? That's hard work on the body, and over the last year or so I've slowly (too slowly perhaps) started to work out that it isn't enough to just do the dance itself if you want to survive. I have to start taking extraordinary steps before and after dancing.

I used to get mad cramps. I mean, just crazily unbelievable leg cramps. The sort of thing that would wake me up in the middle of the night and have me paralysed for ten minutes while I tried to work through the agony to shuffle into a position where I could begin to gently put weight on the leg and stretch out the muscle. After putting up with this for far too long I started to look around and discovered that the advice on dealing with cramps was a bit of a minefield. Long muscle cramps, apparently, can be due to too much water. Or too little water. Or too much salt. Or too little salt. Or sleeping under a heavy duvet. Drinking a bunch of water wasn't helping, so I scienced it out and discovered that after I came home from my usual dance venue I could stave off the cramps if I ate some salt and washed it down with a pint of water...

...also, poking my feet out from under the duvet (while cold) does sort of help. Weird.

I'm still not sure what I could have done to avoid my knee and foot injuries, but I've been doing some things to help prevent other problems. Falling injuries can be guarded against somewhat if your upper body is strong, so I've been doing the 100 Pushups program (I also do the 200 Squats one, but that's more for jumping ability) I've been trying to work out how to practise breakfalls at home without injuring myself ironically, in case I trip. And I've made a one-month resolution for February to limber up at least my ankles and hips before any dancing.

Ironically, the only picture of me injured is actually a biking injury...

She Goes:

I have been forced to take the last week off dancing due to seriously bruised knees.

It's kind of a dance related injury; I slipped on tiled flooring while rushing to hear results of a Jack and Jill comp. (I won two shiners on my knees but no chocolate, alas)

I landed hard on my left left knee, square on, and on the inside of my right knee. 8 days later and the bruises are still blossoming in shades of purple and racing green. Ouchy.

What am I doing about it? Slathering arnica gel on myself like its going out of fashion, upping my intake of supplement for my joints, stuffing 'shock absorbing' insoles in my favourite shoes and NOT DANCING. No lessons, no socials, no walking up escalators, or stairs if I can avoid it and sleeping on my side with a little cushion between my knees to keep my hips happy too. (As some impact clearly travelled north as they ached for a few days afterwards too. That's an image for you!)

But this is all in response to said injury. Certainly as I put myself on the Lindy-loving front line, I have recognised I need to be taking better care of my body, both before and after swinging-the-flip-out.

Obviously there'll be different strokes for different folks, but I think we can all recognise in some form the benefits of stretching. I think it's useful pre-dance as it means you can just get straight in there and find your groove quicker as you're already loosey-goosey. Stretching post-dance is nice because it massages, kind of, all your achey bits. (Assuming they ache from being a ninja and not from bodily neglect!)

Warm up routines are something that I like the idea of, like the equivalent of singers warming up with scales and arpeggios. Plus it can't hurt to have your feet fully functioning and all dance-synapses firing!

I'll mention briefly how important the change from any-old-shoe to actual dance shoes was for me. (Very!) but I did get achey knees for a bit when I started dancing in heels more regularly. Every stomp left an echo it seemed! My response was to stomp less. Hardly rocket science although initially, easier said than done.

Diet comes into this too. I've got dietary requirements that put me firmly in the pain-in-the-ass-to-cook-for camp, but regardless of what you can/can't/won't eat, I know that the 6 Ps come very firmly into this; Proper Preparation Prevents Piss Poor Performance. (One of the few things I learnt at uni, even if it was from the women's rugby club socials!) AKA Tupperware is your friend :)

I don't like to dance on a full stomach, oof, but if I don't have something in the tank before I get started then I dip quite quickly in lessons or socials. I've been experimenting with protein shakes (and currently have settled with one during the day of dancing and one soon after dancing), and I've started bringing a piece of fruit or two for chomping on about halfway through the night. I still crave carbs like a fiend afterwards, but these things really help my levels of focus throughout the night. I can make it to the end without flaking out and feeling guilty for being a poor follow.

Also, hydration is key. KEY! Dehydration is not your friend. Having to cross your legs desperately for the journey home is favourable over cramps and headaches. (Let that be a lesson- you should have gone before you left, even if you didn't need it!!)

I've also decided to take up more non-Lindy physical activities. Yoga is probably going to be the winner for that, but that's because I used to be into it in a big way.

Essentially I think if you start doing anything that's physically demanding on a regular basis then you should be aware that you will also need physical maintenance. You don't need to bring a full on picnic hamper with you but chances are if you're reading this you'll have a bag with yor dance stuff in! Make time to chuck some nuts in your bag. Remember to fill your water bottle for the journey home. Your body will thank you for it.

There is an excellent facebook group championing body-responsible dancers - set up by Duncan, the cyclist Keith mentioned at the beginning of his section: I don't want dancing to f**k my knees/back/ankles. As a community it's a great opportunity for us all to share best practice, tips, and thoughts on what works for you. Get involved!

Dance With Us:

In case you don't already know us in real life and are interested in coming for a dance, or you do know us and want to marvel at how often Spoon is dancing, we've added a calendar to the side-bar which we'll try to keep updated with when and where we're dancing. Come along! Ask us for a dance!

Dancing On Flat Ground

He Goes:

The plateau, the scourge of long-term dancers. If being swungover is the physical equivalent of an alcoholic hangover, the plateau often presents itself as the twilight time in between being drunk and sober in which weighty and depressing questions fill the mind: what am I doing with my life? Is this all there is?

I travel a fair old way to the dances I go to, what with me living in the borderlands of London rather than the swinging centre, so the bus ride back to Waterloo or the train out is often a time of glum reflection on my dancing. Sometimes it feels like I spent a whole evening doing nothing but tuck-turns and change-of-places, and surely my follows my have been getting pretty bored by all of that?

I'm a great fan of thinking, don't get me wrong, but I realise that there's a dark side to it. Just like you can psyche yourself out by watching the really good dancers and worry that you'll never be that good, you can also think too much about what you did yourself, forgetting the sweet little moves you thought up, forgetting the music, letting everything get away from you apart from the feeling that you're not making any progress.

It's strange that I can be enjoying dancing one minute and then the next minute be sitting halfway down a double-decker bus (I'm not usually cool enough to sit at the back unless Spoon's there) having a psychological dance crisis. But it happens - and it doesn't seem to have changed a lot as I've got better at dancing. Obviously when I started dancing - as a ballroom dancer rather than a swing dancer - there was so much to learn that it seemed obvious to me that I'd just slowly get better and better until I was competent, then if I put more and more time into it I'd get slowly better still. But those early days were deceiving. When I began I was learning easily quantifiable things - I'd learnt a move, for instance, or I'd worked out how identify waltz music from foxtrot music. Later on it starts getting a little trickier to work out what I'd learnt in a given lesson, or what I'd practised in a social dance. Perhaps a class had a slightly different version of a tuck-turn, or I went somewhere new that taught a swing-out slightly differently. But had I actually learnt the difference enough to understand when that type of swing out was more appropriate than the type I was used to? If I danced with ten new follows in a social, had I actually improved my ability to lead new dancers or had I just done the same old thing?

I learnt before I started swing dancing that writing down everything I learnt in some form or another was a key to progressing more quickly. I must have forgotten a third of all the ballroom steps I ever learnt simply because we'd learn them and then only go back to that dance months later, when I'd completely forgotten what I could do. Writing down helps, but has it helped me stop getting onto plateaus? No. No, it has not.

There are two parts to my plateaus, I guess - there's a rational part and an irrational part. The rational part is the part that's susceptible to analysis and fixing, the Rebecca Brightly model of dance problem solving: since there are things I know I do badly, I can focus single-mindedly on fixing one of them and then at least I'll know that if I fix that I'm still improving.

The other, irrational part? Well that part is a bugger. But at least there's one treatment for it that seems to work - the same treatment as a stubbed toe: Dance it off.

Welcome to base-camp on Dancing Lady Mountain

She Goes:

-->

The dreaded plateau. Have you had one yet? I think I’m on my third in under a year!

Symptoms include (at least, for me), getting totally bummed out at social dances for no apparent reason, getting ‘psyched out’ by watching other dancers be absolute ninjas on the D-floor, and feeling like I suck during lessons. Plus an overall sense ofdissatisfaction with my quality of following, overly criticising myself when I have an off-the-boil night, feeling guilty about back-leading and generally not having the fabulous time I normally do.

Sucky!

So what does a girl do about it? Well, there are many ways to tackle such an obstacle.

Chill out with your bad self- and by this I mean try having a break! This weekend coming I will not be dancing. At all. Gasp! That’s 3 days- count them- Friday, Saturday AND Sunday. No swing for spoon. I’m kind of looking forwards to it.

Feedback loop- find someone you don’t dance with quite so regularly but still dig the style of, get a little space away from a social event, and dance! (Feeding back to each other what you think about the others’ dancing, in a safe and focused space.) I’ve got something pencilled in for mid February with a lead I respect and I can't wait.

Break it down- take it back to basics. Strip away your stylings and focus on your bounce, on the connection with your partner, stay light but aware. Yeah I know it’s easier said. I find I prefer to think in those general terms- the last two plateaus I had I tried to focus on improving one or two moves and I actually ended up getting very stressed out about them- not what I wanted!
Wild card- try something different! I'm going to dip my toes into some blues and balboa. Yes, there's a risk I may neglect my lindy- but there's much to be gained in approaching something you love from a slightly different angle. I figure that if I don't get on with those then at least I'll have picked up some styling variations and the ability to follow those moves socially. And, a change is as good as a rest, right?

Mix it up- break outof the routine! Dance with different people; go to different socials and the one I find hardest of all- try different teachers. That last one is a toughie.Here’s my reasoning; My Monday night is literally just down the road. My friends teach it and I do more leading there. On Tuesdays I’ve just started learning the Big Apple, something I wanted to learn so badly that I actually chose to not audition for a troupe in favour of it. Thursdays is my one guaranteed night where I can get a few grooves in with Keith. Sundays I regularly help out and it’s a different crowd to the rest of the week. Plus I'm a creature of habit in the extreme... So I’m hoping doing the first two is enough for now!

And, if none of these work, then just shrug that shit off and keep on swingin'!! I mean really, it’s dancing, people, not forced labour! I recently saw a clip of George Lloyd talking about dancing. I’m not so good at quotes (so excuse my rough outlining of his words) but what he said really resonated with me. ‘Some dance like it’s a job… I dance like I’m on cloud nine.’

Wise words indeed. Happy dancing, y’all xx

Cute Suit Riot

He Goes:

Back again! We hope you all had a good Christmas and New Year. I spent an entire week not dancing, and now that I've come back to lindy it feels like I've forgotten half of what I know. Fortunately it's possible to distract onlookers from your feet with garish colours and stripes and patterns.


I have a bit of an old nerd's relationship with clothes. I've always been somewhat suspicious of any endeavour that requires special clothing - the only jobs I'd consider dressing up for would be astronaut or dragon-slayer - and layered on top of that I am both lazy and insecure. Laziness prompts me to just throw something comfortable on and have done with it, and insecurity points out that I'm not going to look great whatever I wear, so why bother even trying?

But there's no getting around it - it does look good when you see a swankily-dressed couple dancing. During my dance marathon I saw a couple who were both wearing sharp suits and hats, and when they danced together - good grief, they did hardly anything in the way of moves, but their footwork was crisp and they were dapper as anything! The floor at Mouthful O' Jam is fast already, but with these two on it dripping cool everywhere it must have been like a skating rink.

Back in Dublin, before I started swing dancing, one of our ballroom friends told us that she used her vintage dresses as a partner filter - when she wore it, she said, the better leads would ask her to dance more often than if she went dancing in civvie clothes. I suppose the issue here is looking like you take dancing seriously. It can be misleading - I've danced with follows in full-on vintage dress who aren't particularly good dancers, and of course everyone's familiar with the experience of watching someone rock up in jeans, T-shirt, and trainers who then turns out to be absolutely amazing. But there's enough overlap between the vintage dressers and the swing dancers that someone turning up to a swing social in 40's gear will probably be at least familiar with the basics.

Outside of the issue of looking the part, though, there's also the utility of dance clothes. People didn't start dressing the way they did for dancing /entirely/ due to fashion, and that's what finally started to tip me over the edge into dressing up for dancing.

I think it's safe to say that I am a sweater. I used to watch people dressed up in vintage-style three-piece suits and hats and wonder how it was that they didn't evaporate the minute they started dancing. I wore a T-shirt and trousers and by the time a lesson was half-way done my shirt started to resemble a dishrag at the end of a particularly vigorous washing-up session. I began to take a spare shirt, but even that - well, the problem with changing into a spare shirt is that you're still too warm. Unless you go topless and stand out in the cold for a few minutes your second shirt gets soaked through with sweat about one dance after you've put it on. If I was to stay dry throughout a whole night I'd need a T-shirt dispenser in the men's toilets.

Then I figured it out, the reason why people could get away with wearing so much clothing without heat stroke. First off, they weren't dancing as much as I was. They were doing some socialising, they were perhaps skipping some of the real high-speed numbers. But the clothes were also helping - the extra layers made you warmer, okay, but they also soaked up some of the sweat before it could get to the top layer. So I started wearing vests under light top-shirts, and - well, it worked (to some extent - I didn't buy my shirts from a wizard).

Everything I wear now, pretty much, I pick on the basis of utility. Shoes? Dance shoes do let you get away with some cooler moves. Braces? They remove the restriction around the waist and allow for freedom of movement and a tiny bit more airflow (there's also a secondary benefit in ballroom, in that you have no belt buckle to press uncomfortably into your follow's stomach). Tie bar? Keep that unruly tie under control in fast spins. Shirt Suspenders? You want your cuffs a little shy of your hands, right?

Waistcoat?

...ok, so perhaps the waistcoat is just for making me look just a little bit better.

Well played, clothes, well played.

At least the queen of belles isn't tempted to look at her feet.

She Goes:

When you put your work clothes on, it helps you change your frame of mind into work mode. When you get all dressed up for a night out it helps you get in the party mood. Why would it be any different for dancing?

Like Keith, (or anyone who has trouble tearing themselves away from the dance floor) I'm a bit of a sweater. I bring a complete change of clothes, and one if not two choices of dance shoe, plus some sort of small snack for those mid-swing energy dips. (I was a girl guide- the motto was be prepared; this is why I can't seem to go anywhere without at least two bags!)

Having a swing wardrobe (which is actually becoming just my wardrobe because I ask myself if a) it's suitable for work or b) can I dance in it) helps me get in the zone.

I've got my casual dance stuff, and my dressier stuff, and a few pieces that can be dressed up or down. (The guys are probably drifting off at this point while the ladies are nodding)

I love watching people dressed up to super fly levels cut a fine figure in the dance floor. I long to be that sharp. Crisp makeup, perfect hair, beautifully pressed vintage threads, neat shoes....

... But it's not me! I'm the one with messy hair, pink face, fanning herself frantically. I asked one follow, who I consider to be particularly well presented at all times, how she does it. (The continually looking sharp) her response was that she dances less and socialises more. I understand... But again, not me. She's been dancing for much longer so I suppose her relationship with dancing has evolved more than mine. I choose dancing. I'll stand about and look pretty some other time. And by that, I mean never.

When I do get the gladrags on, however, I don't necessarily notice a difference in who asks me, like Keith mentioned (because I'm in demand regardless, arf arf), but I do notice a difference in the moves I'm lead into.

I recently went to a killer christmas party, to which I wore a rather pretty dress with a full skirt, complete with petticoat.

I got spun a lot! And by a lot, I mean a flippin' lot! Which I found quite gratifying. I know my lead liked it. And it created a breeze much needed in a hot hall!...However as I was rocking so much fabric it did mean that during the faster songs sometimes a hand accidentally strayed up my skirt. No, not like that. My petticoat was dancing on a 2 beat delay!

When I'm in a pencil skirt, which is my general preference, I tend to shimmy and wiggle more. Since I've started dancing in heels that wiggling has increased 10-fold at least.

Why do I prefer a pencil skirt? Well, for a few reasons. Generally from observations I've made, gaggles of ladies in full skirts more often than not don't dance. (I'm referring to those hen parties that randomly show up on some social swing nights) Add to that the delay they dance with, plus the space the skirt can take up on a crowded dance floor... And pencil skirts take up less space in an already bulging bag...That's why. Pretty though. Perhaps I'll come back to the full skirt in summer.

Perhaps.