On the weekend of the Strictly Come Dancing Final, it has me thinking back to my dancing days. I remember as a young lady, in sweeter days gone by, putting the crinoline around my waist and draping my dress over the top.
I used to love dancing when it was free style. A man would ask you to dance, and you would say yes or no. He would offer you a drink, you would say yes or no. What dance moves you did were dependent on how you danced and how he danced. No two routines would be the same.
The ballroom dancing of Strictly helps us to remember the pleasure of dancing with another person, holding them close whilst dancing to songs that crooned “I found my trill on blueberry hill”. It was the height of romance and it felt good to be a girl, being swept around the dance floor.
Those days were sweet; these days they just want to hold you and dance with you in a corner.
But my nostalgia aside, if I were a young woman now I would prefer to dance alone. Free style. Because that is the mistress’ way: free and with style. A man can offer you a drink, you can still say yes or no. Yet, the beats that sweep through you, the tune in your head, those are for you to enjoy on your own.
I am not saying that the mistress is living a lonely life, but she gets to choose when she wants a dancing partner and when she wants to be alone on that dance floor, free-styling like no tomorrow. It may seem like the sweetest thing to dance with a man, but really isn’t the sweetest thing the freedom to choose?