Things I Have Learnt About Dancers

Having been dancing various styles for pretty much as long as I can remember, I have, unsurprisingly, encountered many dancers, and I have found that we are a particular breed of person. We all have our personal quirks, but there are some things that most, if not all, of us can relate to. So, here are eight things to give you an insight into our particular kind of crazy.

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Images from Pinterest

  1. We like attention. Many dancers can be shy, or socially awkward in a normal situation, but don’t be fooled. Dancing for an audience is a rare time when it’s socially acceptable to show off, when we lose the self-consciousness because we’re loving life. When we’re on stage, we want you to come and watch, and will appreciate the support.
  2. We like to be at the front. Whether in class or on stage, there are some dancers who establish ‘their place’ at the front, there are others who coyly shy away at the back, but the moment they are asked to move forward by a teacher, their smile says it all.
  3. We are often perfectionists. In terms of our own dancing, we are always trying to improve, and we have high standards. From teaching dance, I’ve realised that our own choreography becomes our baby. People doing it wrong is really frustrating, and seeing it danced the way we intended is magical, so forgive us for being pedantic about the little details, both in dancing and in life in general.
  4. We have a tendency to move, stand or sit in odd ways, without realising how strange it looks to other people. Walking/running on tip-toe happens a lot, as does absent minded stretching. Don’t worry – we’re actually very comfortable, even if it doesn’t look like it.
  5. We will crack most, if not all of our body parts at least once a day, probably without realising. Sorry not sorry.
  6. When we tell you we dance, and you perform a terrible parody (for example, for Ballet a twirl with inverted gorilla arms, for Irish an odd bouncy shuffle, usually accompanied by an attempt at an Irish accent), we will want to scream “point your toes”, and correct all of your woeful technique. But we wont. We’ll smile politely, and let you continue to think a) you’re hilarious, or b) you could have been a dancer if only you’d been given the chance.
  7. When we hear music, we tend to choreograph. If we’re alone, we’ll dance, if not, it happens in our heads, so if we look distracted, that’s probably why.
  8. Whatever real person career we end up in, we will always secretly (or not so secretly) think of ourselves as dancers.

People watching on my travels part 3: Bari and Bitritto

Another place we went on our InterRail trip that was brilliant for people watching was Bari, in Italy. Bari was one of the only places we went where I hadn’t researched a number of potential hostels to stay in, because it … Continue reading

People watching on my travels part 2: Prague and Budapest

Our next two stops on our InterRail trip were Prague and Budapest, and I found them interesting to compare. While Prague is beautiful and sophisticated, both in terms of the place and the people, I personally preferred Budapest. I think … Continue reading

People watching on my travels part 1: Krakow and Auschwitz-Birkenau

A couple of months ago, I went travelling round Europe with my best friends from school, and had an amazing time, not least because of my lovely travelling companions, and the people we met. My next few posts are going … Continue reading

Cocktails, Portraits, Francophiles and Hip Hop Dancers

Getting ready to go out for the night with Emma, one of my oldest and best friends, got me thinking about other nights out I’ve had with her, and how many interesting people we’ve encountered. Emma and I went to … Continue reading

The value of an honest shopping companion

Last week, I went shopping not for myself, but for my sister, partly because I am a wonderful big sister, and partly because I have no money. In the changing rooms, as well as giving her my opinion on the clothes she was trying on, naturally I took the opportunity to have a nosey at other people’s outfit choices, and eavesdrop on their conversations.

What I observed, I have seen before, but the phenomenon continues to baffle me. Why, when your friend is trying on something that clearly doesn’t suit them and asks for your opinion, would you say they look gorgeous? In this particular instance, I was watching two girls, early twenties, one of whom was asking the other’s opinion on a skirt that looked very uncomfortable. She was pulling it down, and trying to smooth the creases produced by the fact that it very much didn’t fit her.

If this was my friend, I know, without a doubt, that my response would be; “It doesn’t fit properly”, probably followed by a suggestion of something that I think would look better. However, here, the other girl said: “Yeah, it looks great, what do you think of this dress?”

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Images from Pinterest

To my mind, there are a number of possible reasons for this. One might be she doesn’t particularly like the other girl, and wants to sabotage her appearance. Another could be she simply wasn’t paying attention and was totally focused on her own dress – observation and multitasking fail – if this is the case, I bet she’s not a people-watcher. However, my guess is the reason for the unhelpful verdict on the skirt is a strange form of politeness, a very British fear of causing offense.

I understand this kind of false flattery between strangers – with someone you don’t know, blunt honesty can easily be mistaken for being nasty or bitchy. But this wasn’t the case here; when the two girls were leaving the changing rooms, they were chatting and laughing, obviously very comfortable in each other’s company.

My next question is, am I unusual in that I wouldn’t be at all offended if a friend told me they didn’t like my outfit choice? I’d much rather have honesty, however brutal, than false compliments.

Perhaps, some people feel they can only comment positively on their friends’ appearances, out of loyalty, but to me, this logic seems a tad confused. It’s not appropriate, in fact it would be considered rude, for a stranger, or even an acquaintance to make a negative comment about your appearance. (Hence why, much as I wanted to, I refrained from commenting on the ill-fitting skirt of my changing room neighbour.) So, it falls to your friends to give honest opinions and advice. If you can’t trust your friends to be honest about something as simple as your clothes, why would you ask their advice on (arguably) more important life decisions, like relationships or career choices?

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Don’t get me wrong, I’m not suggesting you abandon all tact and start critiquing everything your friends say and do; if your opinion isn’t asked, chances are your friend doesn’t want to hear it. For example, I have a penchant for wearing dungarees. I realise that some would say they are a questionable fashion choice, but I quite simply don’t care. They’re fun, and if the fabulous Prince George is wearing them, they must be cool.

Nonetheless if a friend asks your opinion, as a general rule, that means they are unsure, and want advice. So, whatever this odd kind of politeness is, it really needs to stop. An honest shopping companion is invaluable; someone you know cares enough about you to be truthful, whether you need advice on what to wear tonight, or what you should do with your life. Do your friends a favour, and give them honest opinions. Trust me, they’ll thank you for it.

 

Kirsty x

 

Fell down the office rabbit hole, met Muhammad Ali and Peter Pan

Last month, I started a job that is definitely the worst I’ve had so far, and I suspect, even with my limited prospects as an English student, will remain one of the worst.   I was working as a representative … Continue reading

Crazy golf: the perfect people watching opportunity

When the boyfriend and I took a day trip to the East Coast of Scotland, we found that playing crazy golf provides an excellent opportunity for people watching. It is one of the few instances I can think of where following directly behind a group of strangers is not considered strange or creepy, and we found the family in front of us on the course suitably interesting.

We agreed quickly on the relationships of three out of the four in the group – a father, aged around fifty, and his two children, a girl of about fourteen and a boy about ten. These three looked obviously alike, with dark hair, olive skin and similar features. The fourth member of the group, however, was a young woman, I’d guess early thirties, very blonde and fair, who looked a little out of place, made more noticeable by her slightly awkward conversation and body language.

What first drew our attention to the group was the boy, in Jake’s words, “being a little shit”. A ten year old boy being bored of crazy golf and winding up his sister isn’t surprising, but when we realised his antics were, in fact, directed towards the young woman, we became intrigued.

After a muttered discussion, and a probably not very subtle assessment of whether or not the father or Blondie were wearing rings, we came to the conclusion that this fourth member of the party must be the father’s girlfriend. I realise that, at least on my part, this conclusion may be slightly biased, given that my Dad has taken up with a blonde of a similar age (incidentally, closer in age to me than to him). However, whether we were right or not, my sympathies were definitely with the unimpressed little boy.

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Images from Pinterest, peterrabit.com and Etsy

My next evaluation of the scenario was that the two children were clearly desperate for their father’s attention, marvelling at how great his golfing skills were, and turning to tell us that he was a “professional golfer”. From watching, we doubted that, but since my golfing skills are questionable – apparently I stand like a duck – I refrained from judging.

Interestingly, the girl’s approach to the girlfriend situation contrasted with her brother’s. She seemed to be making a huge effort to talk to Blondie, and scold her brother for sabotaging her golfing efforts. This could, I suppose, be because she likes Blondie, but what seemed more likely to me, (again, perhaps slightly biased) was that this was her way of trying to get the father’s attention. My guess is that both children would have preferred a day out with just their dad, but he was determined to play Happy Families, and massage his ego by showing off his golfing skills (clearly you’re going to be better at golf than your kids…) and shiny new girlfriend.

From this people watching exercise, I realised that my assessment of situations is affected a lot by my own experiences. I’m still convinced that I was right, or at least close, about the family situation, but I also realise that I probably wouldn’t have reached that conclusion without the picture having triggered a personal response from me. I suppose this makes sense – we like to feel connected to other people. What is interesting is the weird and wonderful ways people find connections with one another. In this particular instance, I found myself relating to someone who, at first glance, you wouldn’t think I would have much, if anything, in common with. This might mean that we think we like people who are similar to us, but, in fact, when we want to feel a connection to another person, we show quite an impressive ability to find obscure links. Or, maybe, I just have more in common with a ten-year-old boy than I’d like to admit.

Kirsty x

Organised Holiday Romance

Shortly after I had finally rid myself of The Crazy One, I found myself having life chats with Maria, and bemoaning the fact that I seem to attract crazies. There was definitely gin involved, which definitely had something to do … Continue reading