Boys are less inhibited on the dancefloor than girls nowadays, according to Strictly Come Dancing judge Dame Darcey Bussell. She made the observation after going into schools and making children dance, like an anthropological organ grinder. What earthly reason could there be for girls to feel self-conscious about their moves, standing next to a revered prima ballerina, model and TV star? We may never know.
Still, it’s good news for the lads. Historically, we’re a country of ruling values, stiff upper lips and none of that continental muck about feelings. The relationship between British men and dance has long been a Billy Elliot one, of mystery, fear and homophobic suspicion. But now, with boys imitating footballer celebrations on the sidelines, or learning to floss, or Harlem Shake from viral YouTube videos, restrictive gender norms have been comprehensively broken down, like the “pop and lock” section of a hip-hop bridge.
Strictly Come Dancing can take a lot of credit for this free flowering too. (Odd, considering its name, which sounds like a Stormtrooper issuing a perverse marching order to PoWs.) The show’s fans really do come in all shapes, genders and dispositions. I have sat in on a Saturday night watching a friend of mine – whose sole opinions I was aware of, prior to this, concerned his love of weed and Daft Punk – turning into Craig Revel Horwood. “Call that a paso doble?” he shouted at the screen, as someone passed him a doobie. “Look at this one – footwork’s all right, but his line is all over the place. I could pull a better rumba out me bumba.” The revolution will be televised, in fact it is on its 16th series.
I like to move myself, though I’m terrible at learning steps. “Dance like nobody’s watching” is the classic advice. I’ve found this is a lot easier if you do it at home, on your own, where nobody’s watching. It’s how I calm down if I’m feeling anxious or overwhelmed. I put on music, shove the coffee table out of the way and let instinct take over. I’m incredible, of course, a fact you can’t disprove. (I also speak Mandarin, and levitate. I’m amazing behind closed doors.) But it’s not about looking good. Physical activities are often the things that keep us mentally healthy, and this is my favourite. Dancing is about opening a channel, feeling liberated and letting the things that move you … well, move you.
I dance alone because I’m a weirdo, but for many, including this generation of boys finding their flair, the benefits are surely social. It is one of those pleasures that is totally harmless. Unless you attempt to teach the worm to a group of six-year-olds at a wedding, after five tequilas, in which case it is a bit harmful. There is really no reason not to have a go. Either you are a good dancer, rhythmic and flexible, who can cha-cha-cha like a champion or floss like a boss – in which case, people will definitely notice, and ask you to parties (and often to quickstep into their boudoirs). Or you are a jive turkey with elbows for toes, who moves like Theresa May juggling porcupines, and can’t ask someone to dance without falling over in the process. And that is even better, because if you have a go anyway, it demonstrates integrity and courage. It says you don’t mind making a fool of yourself, that joining in is better than being cool, and looking good isn’t everything. Very good lessons for boys. Very good lessons for anyone.
