Series 11 – Week 1

Good evening and welcome to the endurance test that is watching all fifteen couples come down the stairs and be introduced one by one (“Fiona Fullerton: Bond Girl and author” - never will that get tired). My GOD, IT TOOK FOREVER. So much so that my senses were dulled and I didn't even have the strength to bring out the Bruce hate. One gag even made me quietly chuckle, but I refuse to remember/admit which one.

Did we all enjoy the new titles? I feel like I might need to blog them separately, as I have MANY NOTES, including comments on Julien's immovable face, Tony's unfortunate pointing, Natalie's amazeballs hair, Robin's cheeseballs wink, the inevitable Feltz gurn... Course, the best thing about the titles, and indeed the best thing about the entire two shows, was *drum roll*....

Mr Dave Myers and his wonderful wonderful exuberance.

OMG – I am officially #teamshakeandbake. I love that Hairy Biker. I LOVE HIM. I don't really have many comments to make about his dance with Karen – I just urge you to click here and watch that cha cha over and over, then over some more. It's the stuff of knowing joyful comedy dance legend (as opposed to the painful embarrassment of lumping around a large confused ball of lady-lycra in a truss to music).  It was brilliant -  right down to the respectful tribute to the infamous Rihanoff-Sargeant floor drag. Dave was having the time of his life and so was the audience. Karen Hauer, I salute you.

At the other end of the scale... well, fortunately there are no eliminations this week, so Tony Jacklin will get to dance one more time, before the inevitable first exit, and the return to what must be a truly crappy little life in a mock ye olde Floridan mansion with easy access to constant sun and a golf course. Poor Tony. His waltz with Aliona was pretty poor, but it wasn't horrific as the judges made out and there was a certain sweetness to the father-daughter-saying-goodbye-at-the-rail-station-in-the-fifties storyline (well that's how I'm interpreting it). Aliona even shocked us all by actually getting Tony to try some steps (that he forgot them is by the by) and not just parking him at the back and prominently wiggling herself at the camera. But fear not – it's Tony Does Latin next week, so there's still all to play for! The Vilani derrière can still be shook, as Tony lurks behind, brandishing a glitter-dipped golf club.

But who will join him in the dance-off? (If they're doing that this year – I have no idea.) Points-wise, it's Dave, but he was MAGNIFICENT, so I refuse to entertain that notion. I suspect that it won't be Feltz either – as James coached and choreographed their cha cha very, very well: limited steps disguised by storyline, get Vanessa to have an audience-pleasing pop at Craig the instant she can – regardless of whether he's been mean to her or not (he wasn't, really) – and pop open the Jordan shirt in the hope that the laydeez will fancy him as much as the laddies fancy his wife (wishful thinking, as impressive as the extra fake tanning may be... but it will probably garner a vote or two). To be honest, the fact that Mr Cad didn't throw the nearest heavy object at our TV screen whilst Vanessa was on... well, that suggests that she is already ahead. She gives good soundbite – and that can carry you a looooong way.

Elsewhere, at the top of the scoreboard – as good as it was, I don't believe Abbey's waltz should have outscored Natalie. I did enjoy Abbey and Aljaz's romantic waltz, but, well, who wouldn't? Aljaz choreographed a dance that involved two smoking beauties pressing their faces together in a nearly-snog for ninety seconds (Crouch must be spitting astroturf) whilst their perfectly pert bottoms whirled around a dance floor encased in white spandex. Talk about a showcase...!

But Nat's cha cha cha was to RASPUTIN, so that makes it the best routine of the night, regardless of who's dancing it. (Strictlycad tip: next time you're at karaoke, ensure Rasputin makes at least one appearance – it's AMAZING.) Moreover, Natalie danced it fabulously and then there was Artem's Cossack outfit, complete with nipple-chaffing bolero jacket and those hilarious pantomine boots – that they looked more Muskateer meets pirate is neither here nor there, they must surely join Ian's Red Trousers on the 'Greatest Ever Strictly Costumes' list. Artem was clearly in a great mood – responding to Tess' question “Russia's greatest love machine?” with a comment-less nip flash before collapsing into giggles. Oh Artem, you keep smoking those special cigarettes.

Good thing the jivers weren't in similar state of relaxation – the jive is crazy-tiring. But, for me, it has no place in Week One. Patrick and Susanna both did very well indeed, but I just felt annoyed that I wasn't watching them pull off a truly, truly impressive version a few weeks in, when they have a better sense of what to do with their limbs. The training footage threw up some interesting stuff though – Kevin looks really rather attractive in his horn-rimmed specs (not a fetish I was expecting, nor one I hope sticks around) and I very much appreciated Anya's training technique of encouraging Patrick to indulge in vest-wear and getting him to hoik his shorts up to his Casualties.

But I'm afraid Patrick, for all your rehearsal vest action, ultimately it was Ben Cohen that scored victory in the arm-off.  Benz Gunz Wonz.  Which is good, as Ben's not that great a dancer yet, is he? But I have hope – which is not IN ANY WAY blinded by my serious Cohen crush, oh no – that he will get better and better. A 'journey' if you will (cue QI Klaxon Noise). And I know you'll all agree – because, well, who wouldn't (fancy Ben Cohen)? Exactly.

Ashley pulled out a better cha cha, though he needs to tone down the mince a little, I think. Not that we were allowed to speculate about ATD's sexuality – for we were reminded at least seventeen billion times that he has impregnated a human woman and she is about to give birth at any second. Mind you, I was very pleased to see everyone promoting the notion that 'attending the birth of your child' was more important than 'dancing in a televised dance competition' and that if the contractions started mid-chassé, then it was only right and proper that he should literally stop what he was doing and run to the Batmobile.

But my favourite discussion of progressive values was Julien and Bruno's chat (well 'shout' would be more accurate) about when to be “bent” and when to be “straight” (in dance terms, you understand, so tango and rumba respectively). Bruno clearly forgot he was on national teatime television as he waxed lyrical about the need that “some times it pays to be straight, you know for the money...” before abruptly remembering where he was and cutting it short before he said too much - mere seconds away from an Ofcom fine or a Tom Cruise lawsuit. Julien behaved exactly as those of us who watched him last year on It Takes Two could have predicted: constant yelling and putting the emphasis ON exactly THE WRONG word TO ensure THAT the comic timing FELLLLLLLLLL flat. His cha cha was similar – nearly hilarious, but not quite there, as we watched Julien, and his frozen face of joyful botoxed surprise, attempt to break Janette's neck by shaking her from side to side. In hold. With some voguing.

Clearly no-one dared use Vogue whilst Erin 'don't just stand there let's get to it strike a pose there's nothing to it' Boag was in town, but Janette had the spunk/naivety to just go for it. I can't tell if I'm happy or sad that the Strictly singers didn't attempt the “Greta Garbo and Monroe, Dietrich and di Maggio” rap bit. Mind you it would probably have been more successful than their attempt at View To A Kill – ouch. Especially as Bruce chose that very song to introduce the “wonderful wonderful orchestra”. Fiona did well – I'm a sucker for a scarlet tango dress, but there did seem to be some trademark de Beke plonking-not-teaching; if not as much as in previous years. But mainly Fiona won me over by following me on Twitter (errr, why?! And surely not for long) earlier this week.

The other 'older lady tango' – Deborah with Robin – was also fairly well executed and very well-dressed; a beautiful dragon green dress. Deborah has clearly resolved the feud with Wardrobe since the launch show (she's in, investing in a flesh gusset material manufacturing scheme).

However, the best tango, by a country mile, was Mark and Iveta's jewel thief mini cartoon – so enjoyable and bloody well danced! May the big guys stay in for some time. He was WOEFULLY under-marked.

However, I'm not sold on tangos in week one either – I'm with that group of Strictly purists who think the first dances should be cha cha and waltz. (Though probably they don't think that that's because it's preferable to get all the boring waltzes out of the way whilst the celebs aren't that good at dancing.) And lo, I did find the waltzes snoozesome by and large. Sure Rachel and Sophie looked beautiful, but I have almost no memory of the content or competence, nor any motivation to go back to the iPlayer to find out.

I also don't want to return to the iPlayer and risk stumbling on any more TessDressMess – Saturday's yellow number might have been ok made from a material that didn't give Tess' clearly excellent figure a bumpy spud sack texture, but as it was – sheesh. Sunday was purple belted hot air balloon chic – if that's all the rage on the catwalk, we're in trouble.

I wasn't a fan of the pro-wear either, in their black and white opening Sunday number. Also I couldn't quite work out which pro is partnerless (surely not Artem – that would be INSANE). Probably there'll be some wife swapping going on.

Other than that, on we crack – it's looking most promising indeed, and, bar a likely early exit from Tony, hard to call. Ah yes, to business – I meant to collect my sweepstake money at my birthday partay on Friday, but totally failed, on account of being too busy being the perfect hostess and not because I was to be found on the dancefloor from 9pm, at least one pint of cider sloshing in my hand, ordering my guests to form a giant conga through the pub, the pub's garden, the pub's roof terrace, and, well, it might have then become a reverse conga, but memories are limited. GOOD TIMES.

Keeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep drinking!

2013 Partnerships

Susanna Reid and Kevin Clifton
Drawn by Holly

 

If their post-matching interview hadn't already made it obvious, here is the confirmation – this is not a pairing made in the land of chemistry.  The body language from Susanna just screams 'ESCAPE ESCAPE' - it's clear she wanted a partner to fancy (perhaps a Russian with rock hard man boobs) and Kevin is just... well, he's a child, isn't he? 

 

 

 

 

 
 
 

 

Sophie Ellis-Bextor and Brendan Cole
Drawn by Justine

 

That's some unflattering eye-sequin gluing, if you ask me – how unusual of wardrobe to try and sabotage natural beauty. (AHEM. HOLLY VALANCE. FLAVS. ETC.)  Also, the shiny peach theme reminds of the toiletries range M&S continually pushed in the eighties, which is probably not a compliment.  I am however enjoying Brendan's attempt to subtly beef his own guns – look at the tension in his fist.  Vein-popping. Or so he wishes.

 
 
 

Patrick Robinson and Anya Garnis
Drawn by Catherine
 

How can he hold her up by the bottom of her thigh, whilst her bum is balancing on pure air?  (Core of steel or a little something called Dodgy Photoshop?)  Anyway, turns out Ben Cohen is not the only male celeb with arms. Check this photo out: #nurseguns

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

 

Rachel Riley and Pasha Kovalev
Drawn by Abi

 

Oh Rachel.  Oh dear.  What is that 'pose', do we think?  A half-arsed flamenco attempt or a go at the classic Southern belle 'woe is me' fainting stance (no idea what dance that would be)?  Pasha's eyebrows say it all, really - though perhaps that's because they've styled him as a racing driver.  At least Rachel still has that lovely scarlet dress for her inevitable (and swift) return to the day job.

 
 
 
 

Mark Benton and Iveta Lukosuite
Drawn by Ben
 

I can't decide if Iveta is an Aliona – all self-serving flirtation and oversexed me-me-meisms – or a rather more sweet and innocent girl, who sometimes (and utterly inadvertently you understand) poses like a total ho-bag. A propos of NOTHING, anyone seen that Channel 4 dieting show, the name of which escapes me.

 
 
 
 
 
 
  

Ben Cohen and Kristina Rihanoff
Drawn by Katie
 

Ain't no thigh clamp like a Rihanoff thigh clamp. And let me be clear: who wouldn't? Kristina's look is serene happiness. Ben Cohen's look is *indeterminate mumbling noises and a Strictlycad hot flush*

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

Julien Macdonald and Jeanette Manrara
Drawn by Isabelle
 

Firstly, let me say how much I enjoy saying 'Manrara'. Manrara. Manrara. Try it.  SEE.  Manrara.

Secondly, Julien's face is always the same – frozen in surprised FABLAS joy. I have strong botox suspicions.

Thirdly, if he's already at this level of diamante encrusted lacy chiffon, I can barely imagine where he'll be come Blackpool. Halloween is going to be special.

Fourthly, Jeanette’s tassle skirt.  Yes please. MANRARA.

 
 
 

Vanessa Feltz and James Jordan
Drawn by Louise.

 

Vanessa’s knee.

James’ testicles. 

A meeting of minds.

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

Fiona Fullerton and Anton du Beke
Drawn by Dan

 

Fiona apparently calls Anton ‘Mr Wonderful’.  Excuse me whilst I barf up my own intestines.  I fear we may be in for several weeks of Anton this year. Good luck everyone.

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

Deborah Meaden and Robin Windsor
Drawn by Jules
 

I don’t like Deborah’s flesh-coloured batwings, but the fringing is good.  Also of excellent note: ROBIN’S ENGAGEMENT RING.  Come wedding week, I will unquestionably ignore my own self-imposed Daily Mail Showbiz website ban, mainly to see how Robin and Mr Robin dressed their puppy.

 

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

Dave Myers and Karen Hauer
Drawn by Jo

 

Karen Hauer has been carrying out a blatant 'WE ARE THE FUN ONES' Twitter campaign (sample hashtags: #HairyDancers #TeamShakeandBake #beansontoast) and I have 100% fallen for it.  Turns out that Karen’s lack of personality last year was down to dancing with Nicky Westlife. (A member of Westlife sucking all colour out of life. WHAT?  Shocking, I know. ) Dave just seems a delight. A DELIGHT.

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

Ashley Taylor Dawson and Ola Jordan
Drawn by Beth

Excellent mood face from ATD, even in purple satin. Sure, Ola’s hair could do with a brush, but I suspect her target market isn’t focusing on that part of her anatomy.

 

 

Natalie Gumede and Artem Chigvintsev
Drawn by Terry

Oh my God – did anyone realise Artem had such massive pectoral muscles?!?!?!  Wowsers!  Who knew. Etc.

 

Tony Jacklin and Aliona Vilani
Drawn by Laura

My favourite thing here is Aliona's superimposed giant slanty head - and yet she still looks pissed off.  By the way, you know how we all laughed the thousand laughs of a hyena when Aliona was paired with Tony? Well, turns out Tony lives in Florida, so the BBC had no alternative but to fly Aliona out to the Sunshine State for their three weeks of ‘training’. Her Twitter feed is mainly photos of glorious sunshine and smug showing off.  That girl ALWAYS falls on her feet.  Apart from when she had to train with Johnny Ball. And in that case...

 

Abbey Clancy and Aljaz Skorjanec
Drawn by Vicki

 

Abbey’s turquoise ruff looks well dirty.

 

P.S. Hiya Aljaz.

 

2013 Launch Show

Welcome to the LAUNCH SHOW! It's Class of 2013 Hot Mess Group Dance time – which refers this year to the pros' red carpet performance; apparently the Strictly powers-that-be have decided to kick things off with a shoddy line dance flash mob, complete with dad-dancing Stayin' Alice thrusts and finger points. Erin would never have stood for this.  However, it does pick up back in the studio (Aliona may be my current favourite-to-hate, but boy can she dance), with pros going into manic overjive - lots of gurning-pouting and crazy jig legs – basically an amazing dance competition to see who can dislocate their knees the quickest. The judges are wheeled on on mini-stages (Darcey already has THE DRESS OF THE SERIES, a slinky evening gown made entirely of silver shimmyness), Tess is carried on stage by the old male pros (lying rigid in crucifixion shape is her best dance attempt to date) and the worst lookalike stunt man ever, in a wig made of grey cat moltings, air dives through a hoop, before we jumpcut to real Bruce doing his 'tap dancing'. Clearly the budget has not gone on special effects this year.  

It's on people! Strictly Come Dancing 2013!  And therefore welcome to TessDressMess 2013 – la Daly's wearing a gold sequinned bib stitched on to a flesh coloured tights gusset, with her boobs merrily unhitched. New year, same old disregard for breast wrangling.  Bruce makes a 'joke' about Stonehenge - and arghhhhhhh, WHERE IS CLAUDIA?

Let's focus instead on our 2013 'celebs', looking suitably excited and nervous.  We really are relying on the descriptors to know who they are this year (apparently Fiona Fullerton is a "Bond Girl and author”) but Z-list celebs do not necessarily make a bad show, so my hopes are actually pretty high.  Indeed, let me present the main evidence: Ben Cohen. And lo, a crush is born! (Though my sister informs me she has fancied him since at least 2003, I agree a decade stint will take some beating.). Elsewhere, Deborah Meaden has obviously not invested in Wardrobe's sequin exchange business venture, as they've opted to give Feltz a more flattering body truss, so that's Round One of the Alpha Female-off to Vanessa. (Actually Deborah seems rather lovely and spends her spare time delousing pigs, so boo hiss to you Wardrobe.)  Bruno is already in a frenzy at the man totty on offer which he tells us “tiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiickle ALL my fancies”. Len sidesteps the lack of fame by referring to the contestants as “great characters”.

It's time to match up the laydeez, and so we pan through all the male pros – a terrifying line of giant man pecs, and Anton. The new boys are introduced, sexy Slovenian All That Aljaz (disappointingly pronounced Ally-Ash) Skorjanec (pronounced... literally no idea, and nor does Bruce) and Grimbsy lad Kevin Clifton, who must be all of 12 years old. (Though somehow Kevin has managed to get fellow pro-dancer Karen Hauer to agree to marry him, so we await hidden depths.)

Sophie Ellis-Bextor gets Brendan (STRICTLYCAD PREDICTION #1: CORRECT), Natalie 'Corrie' Gumede gets Artem (STRICTLYCAD PREDICTION #2: INCORRECT – this will be a theme), Deborah Meaden gets Robin (the Robin Windsor Fag Hag Fabulous Awakening will still happen, people) and Rachel Countdown gets Pasha (Ooooh - nice! Sure, I predicted it completely wrong, but maybe Pash won't have such a light series after all!)

Len then calls Artem a “great big hunky-dunky”, which, for me, earns him his series fee.

Time for the new pros to take to the floor and try to outdo each other.  The new girls need to put down the draggy make-up bag and eat MANY MANY MANY pies, whilst the great big hunky-dunky old man pros need not worry that their chesticles will be out-inflated by the new dudes, who are rather flat of pec. I can't really tell the difference between Anya and Janette yet. Iveta looks as dead-eyed and vampiric as ever, but she was awfully nice last year (or was that just compared to Aliona? Probably a komodo dragon would look sweet next to Aliona) so the Strictlycad judgement is suspended for now, but am sure I will grow to love and/or hate them all.

Tess explains that Natbot picked up an injury in training so won't be in this year. The lady pros are presented to the masses and I continue to want to throw pies at the newbies. Kristina has not let her break up with Joe Calzage reduce the power of her turbo boobs.

More matchmaking: Patrick Casualty gets Anya (who momentarily forgets her own name, before realising THAT'S ME and squealing.  Good stuff, I could grow to like my sweepstakee), Ashley Hollyoaks gets Ola (our first double winner?!) , Julien FABLAS! GAUDET! OBE! Macdonald gets Janette (she immediately humps him Kristina-on-Donovan style, perhaps thinking of the dresses she's going to get out of this), and Tony 'Golf' Jacklin gets... Aliona. HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! (My Twitter timeline duly collapses with the sound of hysterical laughter and shouts of IN YOUR FACE VILANI).

Over to a VT of the pros and celebs meeting, kicking off with a speed dating section, which I dearly wish had been a show in itself (come on It Takes Two - MILK THIS), then it's training time which is brief and fairly non-eventful, though it turns out Karen may have some personality – teaching Hairy Biker Dave the cha-cha with a food analogy, beans on toast, no less.

Abbey Clancy is matched with gorgeous new dude Aljaz (and - once it computes - Peter Crouch's face falls to the floor, *evil laugh*), Fiona Fullerton gets Anton (but of course. Though I have done without his pelvic thrust celebration). There's only Feltz and Susanna Reid left, to be matched with James Jordan or Kevin Clifton, and Kevin looks TERRIFIED! The producers clearly realise that, in the current TV climate, matching Vanessa with a man-child might be slightly controversial, so it's James who lands The Feltz (whoop two Strictlycad predictions  out of 15 correct!).  Ergo Susanna gets Kevin.

For reasons unknown, Rod Stewart then performs (which, oddly was the one thing which almost transfixed the three year old I was watching with), before Flavs and Louis returned to do their charleston, which was jolly good - Louis can still do rubberface and gymnastic leaps. (Those disappointed Louis wasn't back in his Showdance tights may wish to refer to this 'news' article). 

Three guys left, and only one of them is Ben Cohen *swoon*, so Kristina, Iveta and Karen nervously await which of them will be landed with a shorter contract by drawing Dave or Mark - who seem LOVELY.

Hairy Biker Dave gets Karen (it was the beans on toast chemistry, surely. She actually seems not unhappy and giggles that they will be 'The Hairy Dancers' - if she forgoes the Veet, I will be seriously impressed). Ben gets Kristina, who breathes a BILLION sighs of relief (and sorry Anya, but this is the couple I want to win – sod my own sweepstake). So of course Mark Benton gets Iveta, who promptly lapdances towards him. Mmmmkay.

Was it just me or did that take FOREVER?! Finally it's Group Dance time – Natalie and Ashley stand out, and Patrick, Susanna and Fiona look like they might not be half bad. Sophie looks a bit wooden, Feltz looks gawp-eyed petrifying and Ben Cohen... hips... guns... dribble...  However, somewhat shamefully, my favourite bit is the moment of intentional comedy choreography - when Kristina reclaims the Donovan thigh clamp, jumping on to Dave Hairy's back and riding him like a motorbike, whilst he makes engine noises and does some hand revs. DEAR GOD - I swear none of that is a euphemism.

So there we have it!  And I think it's going to be ALL RIGHT!  

The 2013 sweepstake line-up goes a little something like this:

Abi – Rachel Riley and Pasha Kovalev

Ben – Mark Benton and Iveta Lukosiute

Beth – Ashley Taylor Dawson and Ola Jordan

Catherine – Patrick Robinson and Anya Garnis

Dan – Fiona Fullerton and Anton du Beke

Holly – Susanna Reid and Kevin Clifton

Isabelle – Julien Macdonald and Janette Manrara

Jo – Dave Myers and Karen Hauer

Jules – Deborah Meaden and Robin Windsor

Justine – Sophie Ellis-Bextor and Brendan Cole

Katie – Ben Cohen and Kristina Rihanoff

Laura – Tony Jacklin and Aliona Vilani

Louise – Vanessa Feltz and James Jordan

Terry – Natalie Gumede and Artem Chigvintsev

Vicki – Abbey Clancy and Aljaz Skorjanec

(Good luck everyone! I probably should have collected the money from Louise and Laura before the show, eh? Ladies can I have your £1...? Ladies...? LADIES?!?!)

Three weeks, then it's showtime - the first live show is on Friday 27th September, which, in a display of classic schoolboy error, I'll miss because of my own bloody birthday. WHAT WAS I THINKING?!

In the meantime, keeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep paying!

2013 Celebrity line-up

Abbey Clancy

 

*whispers* Abbey, we can see your pants, love.
Oh, it’s deliberate.
Right.
I think Wardrobe may hate you.

La Desperate Scousewag, married to that gangly football man who does the robot.  She could do with eating a few pies and getting a way bigger beehive, but my vague memory of her from one episode I saw of Britain and Ireland’s Next Top Model (No Tyra, no point) is that she was ok.

Will last: a while, if she can dance. But I’m dubious.
Partner: I have absolutely no clue how they’ll pair up the laydeez.  So what the hell – Anton.  He will DIE.  They both will.

 

Ashley Taylor Dawson

 

The Radio Times had Ashley pegged as a former girl group poptart, but he is in fact, a MAN with apparently man bits.  (Worrying times when the RT gets it wrong.  Like John Lewis getting an ad banned. Imagine!?) The Radio Times were half right – he was in bargain bin S Club flop group allSTARS (REMEMBER?! Sort of!) and he’s now a Hollyoaks hunk.

Will last: finalist and, if he’s likeable (heed the Ricky Nipple warning ATD), potential winner.
Partner: Iveta should get a contender, after stepping in so gracefully last year (in your FACE, Aliona).

 

Ben Cohen

 

Anti-bullying campaigner, straight-man/gay-icon and English rugby good egg. Wikipedia informs me he has five year old twin girls and my eyes inform me he has, ahem, arms, so that’s the fallopian tube and gay vote sown up.

Will last: with us til December, surely.
Partner: knowing her luck, bloody Aliona.  ARGH.

 

Dave Myers

 

Hairy Biker and recent slimmer – although I’ve never seen his show, I instinctively love this guy.  Look at his cheeky face!  Look at his classic eighties metal hair!  And, also, look at his oddly tiny feet.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Will last: Apparently Dave's a professional make-up artist, specialising in prosthetics, so til Halloween, hopefully -  inexplicably, I really want to see that particular ‘comedy’ VT.
Partner: Ola.  And if they LURVE each other, which they might, they’ll go way further than you might first think.

 

Deborah Meaden

 

Turquoise-eyed Lady Dragon.  I’m mainly looking forward to her and Feltz having an inevitable Alpha Female-off.  I really can’t call that one...

Will last: she’ll be terrifyingly focused and determined (and has probably already purchased her own dance studio), but I fear she’ll only be with us a few weeks.
Partner: Pasha is probably due a light series. (Gah!)

 

Fiona Fullerton



Eighties Bond girl and, um, that’s kind of it.  But let me refer you to the “Personal life” section of her Wikipedia page, ad verbatim, which is terrible/brilliant: “She was married to actor Simon MacCorkindale in 1976 at the age of nineteen, but the marriage ended in divorce in 1981. She then spent thirteen years having "fun", but grew unhappy with her life. She met Neil Shackell, a computer marketing executive, through her cousin, Nigel Fullerton. The couple married shortly after meeting in 1994, and now live in the Cotswolds.  Fullerton found that she had a knack for buying, renovating and then selling houses. She now has her own property company which buys and manages flats, mainly in London.” I wager she also writes her own Wikipedia entry.

 

Will last: meh
Partner: This has ‘The Robin Windsor Fag Hag Fabulous Awakening’ written all over it.

 

Julien Macdonald

 

Best. Strictly. Profile. Shot. Ever. EVAH!  The lace, the pecs, the hairline, the arm pose, the buttock curve,  the toe, the Blue Steel, the just EVERYTHING.  I could study it for hours, if it weren’t for that sinister edge which makes my eyes nervous.  Already part of the Strictly family, Julien (with an E) is the fashion designer and generally over-excited Welshman prone to screaming “FABLASSSS” and “GODET” at Zoe Ball on ITT (not to be confused with Russell Grant).  Sure, Julien’s mighty annoying and generally hated by the Strictly Twitterati, but I can just about cope with his fablassnass.  He will bloody love every minute of this and we will totally and continueously know about it.

 

Will last: mid-season
Partner: Karen Hauer.  Someone’s got to force some personality out of Karen, so let’s go full throttle.

 

Mark Benton

Oh him!  Yeah, that guy.  That actor guy.  That comedy actor guy.  Northern guy.  You know.  He's on that thing. That thing on that channel.  And on that advert.  That advert for that thing.  You know.  Him.  Yeah.  That guy.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Will last: out in the early weeks, I fear.
Partner: Janette?  Really, it depends on whether the Strictly powers-that-be want to test or promote the newbies. They do like to keep an old pro down, but I’m going to (controversially?) hand the likable dud (sorry Mark!) to a new gal, hazing-stylee.  And not at all just because my sister has Janette in the sweepstake, mwahaha.

 

Natalie Gumede

Superbly barnet-ed Corrie baddie and - more importantly - Italia Conti grad, so she’ll know *exactly* what to do on the dance floor.  She’s already bagged one of the finer dresses.

Will last: potential finalist, but, as ever, it depends on how Middle England copes with the Northernness
Partner: Pfffff.  Kevin?  All That Aljaz?  I’m scrabbling here.

 



Patrick Robinson

Confident pose there, Patrick.  Interesting hand positioning.  All about the... OK.  Moving on.  The comforting household soap face - but don't forget that  Patrick is also A PROPAH ACK-TORRR.   Shakespeare, darling, SHAKESPEARE.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Will last: not as long as he will blatantly deserve.
Partner: Kristina – this time Colin Salmon is happily Rihanoff-sized.

 

Rachel Riley

 

Countdown glamourmathsbot - hopefully minus the RWNJVO function.  (That’s ‘Right Wing Nut Job Vorderman Overdrive’, obvs.)   There’s something of the Lady Diana about her hair in some photos, which unsettles me, but am sure she’s blandly delightful.  P.S. I’ll take her dress. K thanks! 

Will last: shy of the semis.  Not a euphemism.
Partner:  Whoever Natalie didn’t get.



 

Sophie Ellis-Bextor

Gird yourselves people, for I predict at least seven thousand ‘BUT WILL IT BE MURDER ON THE DANCE FLOOR?’ references within the first five minutes of the launch show.  AT LEAST.  And all from effing Bruce.  Sheesh.  And if you want to see how Posh Soph will actually do on the dance floor, well, that very video is a fine indication - of her total woodenness.  Choon, mind. 

Will last: halfway, in a not-at-all-shocking SHOCK exit.
Partner: She’s tall.  Way tall.  So Brendan.

 

Susanna Reid

 

No nonsense Breakfast super attractive journo who uses the licence fee to get limo-ed from London to Salford several times a week (erm, allegedly).  Perhaps that's why Wardrobe have decided not to spend our TV dollars sewing up an actual dance frock for her?  (Oh just get whatever's in Monsoon's front window.)  Susanna was also apparently in the same class at school as Sue Perkins.  I know!  Bet they were total frenemies.

Will last: middling to semi.
Partner: Artem – for the juicy Cougar affair tabloid rumours (erm, allegedly). 

 

Tony Jacklin

 

Is a man who plays golf.
Um.
Who seems lovely.
Um.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Will last: first out, sadly
Partner: Anya. My sweepstake luck’s got to run out this year. Surely.

 

La Feltz

 

Oh Vanessa. *sigh*  I once saw her wandering down Upper St looking, how to say it... 'distracted' and wearing a fedora - though I concede the fedora could be a false memory.  It's always the same with me and Feltz: I think I can take it, then after about ten minutes, I suddenly hit my limit and OH MY GOD ENOUGH!  (I have the same thing with coriander.) It's not the verbal diarrhoea, so much as the swallowed-a-thesaurus showing off – why say it once, when you can say it repeated times using every alternative on the Shift+F7 key. We get it Vanessa, you know many words.  Many many words. Many lots numerous various countless plentiful copious abundant ample bounteous lots of heaps of tons of scores of words, but there is no need to ram it down our ears every single time.  It's not just her - I can't read Rushdie for the same reason.  Self likewise.  Or cope for long with Russell Brand... Then again, that's quite a quartet... Have I just stumbled on the ultimate Come Dine With Me line-up?  Wowsers.

 

Will last: “I just want to make it to Blackpool, the pearl of the North, the jewel of Lancashire, the diamond of the coast, the heliodor of the seaside, the spiritual, saintly, divine, celestial home of ballroom, of latin, of dahnce, of... JUST SHHHH IT VANESSA!”
Partner: James Jordan. Someone she can have some bantz with. He'll have to pretend to be loving it too, but inside he'll be dying.  HAHAHAHA.