Series 12 - Week 5

WELL I WARNED YOU THIS WOULD HAPPEN!!! But Thom and Iveta? Not Thom and Iveta! Why did it have to be Hunky TAAM! and Ivetamazing? *And* after I’d tipped them for survival last week!  Boooooooooetc.  Though I did call it directly after the show, texting my sister with my deep concerns, and giving them all three of my free internet votes (the generosity), even if it was to no avail.

The problem was threefold:

1. Thom is laboratory-grown handsome, but he came across as slightly beige.

2. However successful a 'fitness model’ Thom might be, he's still not very famous amongst the natural Strictly fanbase: the Venn diagram of 'fans of Scottish rugby 2008-2010' and 'fans of Kelly Brooks' exes' and 'fans of televised dance contests' is not one with sizeable crossover.

3. Thom got unlucky with his dance style this week - whilst he was undoubtedly improving, his cha cha got a bit lost in amongst a fairly strong week of performances (erm, not a euphemism).

So boom - dance off and out. *sigh*

To be fair, you could see the fear in Iveta's eyes up in the Clauditorium* after everyone had danced on Saturday. She had eyed up the leaderboard and was wondering whether she should've gone full pec'n'washboard. Sure, few dancers of the male persuasion can fill a chest-to-navel-slit mancatsuit quite like Thom did, but it was ultimately unmemorable - we needed more OTT buff hilariousness. Where was Mark Foster’s mesh pullover when Iveta needed it?

Anyway, although I’m really sad to see Thom go (as I'm sure sweepstaker Terry is sad to lose his £1), the biggest tragedy of all is losing Iveta's training outfits. RIP gypsy belly-top ballgowns and leopardprint leotards with added hip streamers. Til next year...

As for the other dance-off pair, when is poor Kristina going to catch a break?! The public clearly have little time for Simon, looking rather swish in Viennese Waltz white tie.  Perhaps it was just that the zigzag hair razoring slightly jarred with the Captain Von Trapp tails and ballroom spinning. He was still good though! But that's just not enough sometimes.

Not that Simon was as good as Mark 'Wowie' Towie. THAT SAMBA! I unexpectedly loved it. Who knew Essex would get some successful shimmy and bounce action in?!! The samba is usually a death sentence for a male celeb, but not this time.  Mark positively vajazzled. (It helped that he was in Travolta-esque dance slacks. Thank Gawd the bawbag-huggers are on their way out.)

Equally unexpectedly, I loved Pixie's samba too.  She finally got me to click with how good she is, without feeling all 'meh' about the emotional engagement. Turns out the key to achieving an emotional connection is to stick fruit on your Alice band, frou-frou on your bum, and shake your spangly red chesticals for all they’re worth.

It was Caroline I couldn't get too excited about this week - her paso was excellent, but I was too huffy about her fluorescent yellow under-lining to really get into it. I’m a total paso colour scheme fascist, and neon lemon remains an entirely inappropriate colour for the paso doble, so it entirely (wait for it) *coloured* my judgement (BOOM BOOM).

Frankie's foxtrot was the same, really - great but pfffff. My issue there was Kevin's saccharine overload of twee: like a carebear had soiled itself and projectile vommed rainbows. I was stifled by cheese, and not in a good All You Can Eat Brie kind of way.

Actually, if the rumours are correct (they aren't), the one person who can't let loose on the brie (she can) is Ola 'preggers' Jordan (she's not). Her minty green dress had the merest hint of a bulge (imagine the tummy of a very slim normal-shaped woman who still does her fair share of sit ups), and that led the masses (the Digital Spy forum) to go hysterical on the theme of OLA UP T’DUFF. She subsequently admitted on Twitter that she probably just needed to diet (are you kidding me?!?!). Let's just blame Judy's shortbread, eh?

As for Ola's dance with Steve, it was a waltz so I was planning to half-snooze through it (it's nice to find some nap time during such a long show - a bit like how the Food History bit on Bake Off provides a perfect tea making opportunity), but it was really rather charming. Lovely Steve may not quite have TAM!'s sawn-off jawline, but he's the obvious hunk predecessor, and he's got TV-honed personality to boot.

Sunetra offered us similar charm levels with her Viennese Waltz (which Darcey somehow made rhyme with ‘Denise Walsh’). Sunetra and Steve are interesting that way - they aren't thought of as AMAAAAAAZING dancers, but are pretty regularly pulling off great perfs, which delightedly surprise the audience into voting. "Ooooh, wasn't that Casualty lady good." (Even if they had dressed her in a mature pub landlady's evening jumper and tacked Nancy dell'Olio's famous boa to her hemline.)  It's classic underdog territory, and whilst they dance well, they're safer than the likes of Simon or Mark. 

Jake's underdog status is probably gone, but you do still get that sense of 'eeek, I hope he pulls this off' before he dances, as opposed to the 'well duh, of COURSE this will be great' that Pixie or Frankie inspire - so I'm outright tipping Jake to win still.  (After that salsa, surely Janette has it in her to choreograph a cracking show dance, where the winning theme is: 'Jake's hips and ¡Manrara!'s abs do weird bendy stuff', only a billion times less sexual than that makes it sound.) 

Jake's quickstep was charming - even if it doesn't chime with the reality of the London rush hour, where you're more likely to get intimate with a stinky armpit than a cute Latina in blouse, briefcase and ballgown. I just wish Tess had wiped Jake's head down at judging; that was one shiny and moist sweaty cranium.  It gave Matt Baker's post-dance perspirations the skin tone of a porcelain doll.

Who's left? (Before I'm forced to talk about the charlestons.) Oh yes, la Hammond, who is to be congratulated for keeping tango face throughout - slightly more dazed and confused than sultry pout, but you could tell she was desperate to constantly giggle, so small victories. Aljaž remains gorgeous regardless of facial expression.

Oh here we go then.  Look, I - as much as anyone - know that Strictly isn't really a dance contest, but a popularity-dance contest hybrid (and that's FINE - I 100% backed Hollins to win over Ricky Nipple). Besides, I'm not even consistent in my enjoyment of terrible dancers - for every bit of Widde-hate (BAN HER), there's been a time where I desperately wanted to see a beardy, straggly haired man pelvic thrust his maracas over a better technical dancer (not literally 'over'... but you get me).  There's no question that both Scott and Judy seem like tremendous people, who are clearly loving their time on the dancefloor.  But should one have them have left instead of Thom?  For me, yes.  Unquestionably. But them's the rules, folks. Don't hate the playa, hate the game.

I'd actually have given Judy a pass this week - I thought her charleston suggested some genuine improvement. She wielded her oars with panache (far better than she dealt with a tennis raquette), managed some key O-mouth charleston mugging (at least Anton can teach rubberface), and even ticked that very important box of 'please put some swimming in your charleston thankyoubye'.

As for Scott... oh but even if I try to dislike him in the name of TAM!gate, I can't - Scott's just immensely likeable. His charleston was TERRIBLE; the only moves he could really remember were the ones where the lyrics LITERALLY told him what to do ("clap your hands, stamp your feet" etc) - but it still brought a chuckle to the face. My favourite bit was the Boat Dance section, which I haven't seen since my school disco days. Actually, no, my favourite bit was when Scott had Joanne dangled over his shoulder and was holding on to her calf with one hand whilst she used all her core not to smackdown and still flayed her leg in time to the music (at least that made one of them). It was an incomprehensible nod to Tarzan and Jane in a dance about the origins of photography.

So let's not dwell on how Thom was going to be a topless vampire next week (WAAAAH) and focus instead on how Scott is going to be Uncle Fester and Judy's dance is going to involve "dogography".  For yes, it's Halloween week next Saturday - so start bracing yourselves for the VT horror shows now.

Indeed, how I wish I braced myself for the FULL and UNEQUIVOCAL return of absolute chronic Tessdressmessdistressstress. She lured me into a really false sense of tasteful security with a series of lovely (enough) gowns, then BAM!!!! Full Jumpsuit Annihilation. That white... 'thing' was just beyond hideous - mildew round the middle and the ever-present danger of poulterwang. I feel so depressed (Tessdressdepress) about the whole thing really - after a decade, Tess finally learns how to wrangle her boobs, but throws caution to the wind down the bottom half. No no no no no.

On a lighter note, we did get to see cowboy Pasha in some tan jeans spinning not one but two lovely dance-blondes.  So that.  It made Cotton Eye Joe almost bearable.  Also, who was expecting the portly lasso man to do a backflip?!  Yeehaw.  That was excellent.

So there we have it. Farewell, Thom 'Tom' 'TAM!' Evans. No doubt your pecs will appear in our collective consciousnesses sooner or later - you're too pretty to stay hidden in the Sidebar of Shame because you're dating someone.  But I doubt he'll be the last to fall foul of Scott and Judy's voting domination. My sweepstake pound (attached to Kristina and Simon) is highly vulnerable indeed. But for now the prosthetics and gruesome costumes await, as do the ten same songs about scary things that they have to use year in year out, as there aren't quite enough Halloweeny tunes to keep this one going for too long without significant repetition.  It's going to be ridic, but it's probably also going to be amazing. Keep woo-hoo-hooooooooooooooooooooooo.

*(wish I could claim ‘Clauditorium’ as mine, but sadly not. Well done the internet!)

Series 12 - Week 4

Toodle-oo Tim - you massively surpassed expectations by surviving not one, but two Strictly culls, for which you can - and did - warmly thank Natbot's exemplary teaching skills. His exit speech and last dance were amongst the most touching and engaging we've seen in these past twelve years. Lovely, lovely stuff. 

And at least Tim got to leave dressed in the natty kind of flamboyant outfit he so clearly loves. I'm not a regular viewer of his show, um, Bargain Antiques Roadshow Hunt (that's the one where canny shoppers look for upmarket car boot sales, I think), but I get the vibe that Tim could comfortably present proceedings as a mature matador with pince-nez specs and bull-fighting Princess Leia hat (as Mr Cad called it; either way, a fitting tribute to Tim's eccentric rehearsal headgear). So let's gloss over his paso doble cape work and wish him well on his way to waltzing around overpriced mahogany with Mrs Tim. 

It's Isabelle who leaves the sweepstake this week.  Unlucky, perhaps, as Tim probably deserved to beat out Scott and Judy - well, as far as the dancing goes.  I love both Scott and Judy, but when this Strictly blogger can just cut and paste the comments from last week (“adorabad” and “another week of looking gorge but dancing awf”), it's probably time for things to move on, eh?  

I suppose Judy's “natural stiffness” held her in better stead with the tango than some other dances (please GOD, may we never be subjected to rumba week), but it all went a bit legs akimbo wobbly  bum shuffle when Anton less-than-gallantly chucked her across the floor and showed off some solo stamping. 

Joanne showed a little more partner-support with Scott, doing absolutely ALL the work in his lift, which turned out to be her take on the Rihanoff-Donovan thigh clamp (run, launch, and cling on for dear life with your thighs). It was still an undeniably engaging American Smooth, as it takes a special kind of killjoy to resist Scott's dance face, where concentration wrestles with trout pout, this week with added (erm) 'power fist'.

But heed this warning, dahhhnce lurvers (for it is harbinger of DOOM time): these hilarious japes won't be so jolly next week, when we'll very, very probably lose a really talented celeb to the phone-vote clout of Scott and Anton's fanbases.  It wouldn't be the first time and I'll tell you now - I'll be really quite grumpy about it.

Going by the last two weeks, it's Mark and Simon who might seem most at risk of an early 'shock' exit - fitness and good looks apparently have limited power against the years of du Beke gurning, not-teaching and smart-caj tie-wearing.  Mark's quickstep was ok but bland - I've now seen it twice and can barely remember it (something about a white suit, reminiscent of that time in Friends when Ross over-bleached his teeth?). 

And I'm afraid I didn't like Simon and Kristina's charleston at all – the dancing was good, yes, but I couldn't click with the randomness of the Pearly King thing (she's from VLADIVOSTOK, he's from MANCHESTER, via Kitts and Nevis, both quite some way from Lambeth).  Maybe it's because I've never liked the aesthetics of the Pearly Look - decorative shell-beading on a Salvation Army uniform is just not a look for me. (Although I did enjoy how Kristina's Pearly styling had something of the eighties gay icon about it - she was just a handlebar moustache away from the drag version of the Biker out the Village People at a San Fran street parade.)

There's perhaps a few other celebs risking next week's mid-table dangerzone and it will all depend on what dance they end up with next week. For starters, Alison is due some less vote-friendly ballroom, though I'm confident in her fanbase. Alison is a total joy tonic for these long autumn nights (and Aljaz is her delicious gin counterpart).  Even when she does go, I hope It Takes Two can use her for some backstage nosing - if she can take time away from flirting with Clooney.

Sunetra could also be in a vulnerable position.  She was ever charming (even on the ill-advised glitter bongos) but could still come unstuck with a tricky dance - just as Brendan came unstuck from his trousers when they ripped live on national television.   I'd try and act surprised, but come on.  This has been on the cards from the start.  Hey Brendan! Have you tried wearing clothes that fit you? BECAUSE MAYBE JUST MAYBE THEY WOULDN'T TEAR AT THE CROTCH MID-LUNGE THEN, HMMMM?  It takes a special kind of ego to insist that you're the same size you were ten years ago when Wardrobe first measured your belly circumference.  You've grown as a person, Brendan, both in character and in girth.  It's FINE.  Embrace it.  Some men would kill for an extra inch.

Speaking of impressive girth, Steve also risked trouser-malfunction, when he did a cracking (but crack-free) move where he slid backwards through Ola's legs in a half-split, before proceeding to chuck her about some more.  I quite liked his salsa, but the judges don't seem to err on the side of generosity with Steve's scores, so he could suffer slightly harsh totals (whereupon James Jordan will take HUGE delight in crying FOUL and CONSIPRACY that his wife can't be around a few more weeks to flog her sexy calender).  By the way, did you see his patchy chest wax?  I can only assume that Make Up spent too much time arguing over whose turn it was and didn't leave enough time to actually finish.

I bet Thom 'Thaaaam' Evans is always freshly waxed, don't you?  (I'll just pause and let you contemplate that - it's important to take time to think about the big things).  As for his dancing, Thaaam is now on an apparent upward trajectory (*cough* journey?! *cough*), so is probably (?) safe for now.  Course, he was particularly aided this week by the appearance of the Other Hot Evans Brother (THEY LOOK EXACTLY THE SAME), as well as another instalment of Ivetamazing's amazing rehearsal gear - a purple gypsy belly top and floaty matching skirt triumph. (Only Karen Hauer's 'pavement escort meets Fame!' dance-wear can rival it, seeing as we're without Robin Windsor's vests this series. *sad face*.)

Course, the REAL shocker would be losing one of Pixie, Frankie, Jake or Caroline.  In truth, I can't see it happening - they are all so very good; Jake so much so that I'm not even sure what could lose him the Glitterball now.  Yes it's only week four, but he's just BRILLIANT.  He pulled off an Elvis jive in an old man's monochrome sweater FFS.  He has to get the first (real) ten, right?

Of the two pop gals, I'm still veering towards Frankie - even though my favourite thing about her cha cha was the eye make-up (it was SO good). Pixie is growing on me, but I'm still not quite clicking with the emotional output.  Mind you, her ugly crying at the end seemed genuine - I just can't discount the theory that it was a reaction to Trent's horrific lilac metallic wet-look silk shirt. It was certainly enough to make me want to weep. 

Though, actually, that shirt was ok compared to the unacceptable use of lilac elsewhere.  Serious, WHO DECIDED TO USE LILAC TO MAKE PASHA'S TROUSERS?  LILAC MAN TROUSERS?!?! NO NO NO NO NO. Even universally-accepted ovary tingler Pasha Kovalev himself cannot look attractive in lilac trousers. That's just BASIC SCIENCE (however cheap the job lot lilac fabric might have been).  So no more please, I'm firmly over the lilac thing.  It's only fit for two things: old ladies' bath salts and Iveta's training ballgowns.

Cue Tess in a range of lilac jumpsuits for the next three months, probably.  *sigh*  So, she made it four week before throwing up a couple of numbers I didn't care for, but I'm not reinstating #tessdressmess yet!  The embroided feather work and reverse-nun neck scope weren't for me, but she's still wearing the Good Bra. And that's all I ever really hoped for - whilst the boobs remain wrangled, I pledge to remain less of a bitch about her clothes.  It's only fair. 

(I wasn't into her middle parting though.)

So what other delights have I missed? The judges are still dancing on, and Bruno is the one to watch in that respect - it won't be many more weeks before he over-bends and has to judge from behind the desk with a Brendan trouser split situation. (Let's hope it's not a week where he stands and air pumps his TEN! paddle repeatedly.)

And then there was Gaga - channelling a Cher-Streisand fusion (Madonna must be seething! Though so would you be if you'd not touched saturated fat since the early nineties). I'm not sure Gaga has the voice for crooning, but there's no doubt this was the blue ribbon event for the pro dancers. It was Natbot who emerged victorious - and she could barely contain herself.  Sod the conventions, there was NO WAY Trent was leading this one. I've not seen such emoting and beaming since Natalie Gumede TOUCHED THE DIVINE.  

Good old Natbot - it's always good to see hints of the crazy-eyed competitive ambition which earned her her nickname, even though I love her these days.  But in the end, she couldn't derail the Anton juggernaut - it remains to be seen who else he crushes in his path to November, by which point he'll want to sit at home in his velour slippers and will use his Jedi mind tricks (how else can you explain it?) to have his fans vote for someone else now.  We're some way off that state, I wager, but there's still plenty to be enjoying in the meantime.  Vote wisely, my friends, and keeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep watching. 

Series 12 - Week 3

Ah Jenny, ye seemed lovely, so ye did, but a denim salopette apron over a gypsy ballgown and a lo-fi recreation of noted shod-fest Mamma Mia was never going to yield success.  Don't get me wrong - I bloody lurve the hot mess that is the Mamma Mia film!  Such a stellar cast of super-famous, highly talented Hollywood stars, all so consistently unsuited to singing and dancing – it's like a PTA Am Dram musical with a slightly raised budget.   It's just not known for, well, conveying quality.

So sorry Sweepstaker Holly for your £1 loss (which, erm, I'll need to collect from you) – the luck of the Irish wasn't with you this year.

I suspect Jennifer's foxtrot would have easily beaten Judy's quickstep (another week of looking gorge but dancing awf) or Scott's Under Da Sea samba (adorabad - "he's dancing like he HAS crabs" quoth Mr Cad).  And on a good night, Jenny might even have vanquished Tim's charleston (more Wossy than Fosse - I realise this makes little sense, but, you know, rhyming).  But she had almost zero chance in the Dance Off against Simon from Blue, even on Male Rumba week.  Lest said about that, I think - in tribute to his lack of hip action.  At least it's behind him now.

Though, on the subject of 'behind him', a word on this week's trousers, if I may, because... What the ACTUAL HELL was going on there?

Strictly Come Trouser-Watch

1. Firstly, I really hated Simon's rumba slacks - far too dress-down Friday for a ballroom contest.  This dance-chino look has got to stop, Vicky Gill.  And it has to stop NOW.

2. And what the blimmin' 'eck was Kevin from Grimsby wearing? (Top AND bottom half, come to think of it.)  Look At My Fucking Red Trouser-leggings, matched with a work experience accountant's shirt'n'tie - way to ruin the otherwise BRILLIANT paso Kevin had made for Frankie.  What an ovary-suppressant.

3. On the other ovary, HELLO SNUG.  Steve's impressively triangular torso may have been encased in a tight chiffon sleeveless leopard print manblouse (Donny suggested clubbing - it's Vauxhall or bust in that outfit), but the nation's eyes were inevitably glued to the will-they-won't-they-split drama in his buttock region.  No Lycra has the requisite give to deal with such convex muscle action.  It's a wonder we didn't see his jungle book.

4. But last and most eye-popping of all – those Superman trousers. 'Tight' is not the word - because the word is 'I can literally see your penis, Mark'.  LITERALLY.  Claudia did her best to distract us by donning cardboard pants over her dress but to no decent avail.  It was OB-SCENE.  Cape or no cape.

Though I wouldn't put it past Karen for willy-gate to have been a deliberate part of the choreography - I mean given that cracked out paso, ANYTHING was possible.  I think I loved it though - there was something naughtily pleasing about the notion that, although there's a group of not-so-great dancers whose pros are all vying for the comedy spot, Karen wins the Joke Dance prize with a competent mover.

Having said that, it was also refreshing to see a traditional Strictly performance in that sea of hyped-up garish bizzarity - I don't often dish out Strictlycad props for Brendan Cole, but I really loved Sunetra's American Smooth (and that scarlet dress – what excellent cleavage!). It was probably my favourite dance of the night, as it actually eluded some kind of emotion beyond 'hilare' or 'cringe'.

After all, Pixie must surely have thrown out an excellent and traditional-enough ballroom routine, but I remember precisely nothing about her, um, quickstep was it?  Truth is, my eyes glaze over when Pixie dances.  It's all a bit too autopilot.  (But she seems sweet enough - I'm sure I'll warm eventually.)

However, I did get some emosh from Caroline's Gravity rumba, which was good enough for the main focus to be the dance and on not Pasha's pristinely waxed chest and ludicrous silver spacetights (this is probably what saved them from going straight into the Strictlycad Trousersnake Chart of Shame).

In retrospect, it's perhaps surprising that Thom escaped the Spray On Slacks Parade, but Iveta's clearly playing the long game - keep the spandex to minimum (for now) and trust in the dressing up box.  You don't have to have to rely on undersized wet-look trews if you're using a sailor's uniform, and especially if that's off the back of 'Howdy Thom Cowboy' and 'Bond, Thom Bond' fantasy shots.  Ivetamazing is evidently saving the hiphuggers for rumba week.  At this point, suggestion is all...

Elsewhere, Aljaž gave the role play cupboard a pass this week and wisely spent his time creating a dance that gave the impression of a jive, without really being much of a jive at all.  I can understand why - the jive isn't an ideal dance for the more buxom of laydeez (Alison herself stormed It Takes Two as she discussed how her breasts were doing a whole other dance to the rest of her - mazin').  Anyway, it turns out you can totes get away with leaving out kicksnflicks, if you manage to give off the impression of jive bounce through sheer exuberance, and Aljaž cleverly put together something which wafted out Alison's jivey joy vibes, without having to subject her bra to too much stress-testing.

Janette did the same kind of thing for Jake - nothing bra-related, I hasten to clarify - but choreographing to strength.  Even though Jake's salsa suggests he can do ANYTHING, there's no question he still has a natural bent towards baldy-fury-face, so ¡Manrara! tweaked a romantic snoozesome waltz into something more menacing and serious.  Although I didn't like Frankie and Kevin's jive-charleston last week, I'm apparently not always anti-fusion, as I really loved Jake and Janette's moody tango in three-four waltz.  Sometimes rule-bending works...

HOWEVER! THERE WAS ONE (UNSPOKEN) RULE WHICH WAS OH SO RUDELY FLOUTED ON SATURDAY - YES I'M LOOKING AT YOU DONNY OSMOND.  I AM LOOKING AT YOU!  KNOW THIS, DONNY! KNOW THIS, 'BUDDY'.  IT IS ABSOLUTELY NOT FOR YOU, AS A GUEST JUDGE - THAT'S A GUEST (DAMMIT I CAN'T USE CAPS FOR EMPHASIS) JUDGE - TO GIVE THE FIRST TEN OF THE SERIES!  THAT IS SIMPLY UNACCEPTABLE! A TEN FROM A GUEST JUDGE MEANS NOTHING! AND IT CERTAINLY MEANS NOTHING IN WEEK 3 WITH ITS PREPOSTEROUS MOVIE THEME I MEAN, I CAN'T EVEN, WHAT WAS THAT, WHAT WERE YOU THINKING, JUST NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NOOOOOOO.

NO!

So yeah, that slightly annoyed me.  I suppose Donny ("did you know I won Dancing With The Stars, did you know, did you know that, did you?") wasn't as terrible as that time Jennifer Grey guest-judged off the back of a bender in Amsterdam and was in a weird sort of drug limbo where she could only give eights.

Maybe that drug limbo is catching - especially where Saturday's Hollywood opener was concerned.  Like, whaaa?  In case you missed it, it kicked off with the two English pros allowed to try some 'acting' and some 'accents' (neither Kevin nor Anton's forte, that's for sure), before we were treated to Craig, Len and Bruno having a go at some actual singing. (Well, 'singing'.)  I can only assume that the producers had realised that having the judges dance in wasn't doing as much as it should to suggest expertise and ease of movement, so they wanted to showcase some of their other musical theatre 'skills'.  Things might have returned to normal after that, if they'd just stuck with a bog-standard Top Hat-esque pro-number, but no no, they had to bring the celebs out, didn't they?  Fortunately, they were able to stick Caroline, Pixie and Frankie front and centre in the name of damage-limitation – or so you'd think, but not even those lovely starlets could really pull off the 'Walk Like An Egyptian' come 'I'm A Little Teapot' come 'Gangnam Style' move they'd been asked to do.  THEN, just when I thought we'd reached peak cray-cray, the judges came back out to do some Scottish dancing.  At least, we got a brief shot of Thom Evans in white tie.  Even if it was far, far too brief.

Still, on the bright side, they didn't resurrect Brucie for some crooning'n'tap-dancing, cause they really, really could've... Instead we got Claudia chucking popcorn in Tess' bra, then having a giggle breakdown live on camera – it was MAJESTIC.

Less majestic = Claudia's red jumpsuit, which tested the very limits of my fangirldom.  Tess, however, is a whole new fashion icon these days - I'm officially retiring the #tessdressmess hashtag (in the hope we see her in a horror next week).

So that's more or less it, bar the Gawd Love Ya Mary Poppins opener on Sunday, which saw Natbot EMOTING like there was no tomorrow and showing off her hobnail boot setting.  We also got Anton and Joanne and Donny all gurning to Moonriver, but we'll swiftly gloss over that (most posts on my Twitter timeline simply read: "Mute").  To be honest, Movie Week was a challenging show at times (#FirstWorldProblems), but the theme weeks so often are a selection of huh and weirdness and actual crapola.  The main thing is that we survived!  Back to normality next week, whatever that might mean - at the very least it means NO GUEST JUDGE!  So yay to that.  Until then, keeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep rejoicing!

Series 12 - Week 2

Well Aliona must be charlestoning around her kitchen in fair old delight - she’s freeeeeeeeee!  Her distaste at being partnered with Gregg was palpable from the outset and was probably set in stone when his trousers split during rehearsal and he proudly exclaimed that he didn’t wear pants - ever (NO NO NO).  In Aliona’s defence, I think we’re all pleased that we don’t ever have to watch Gregg stick his glistening bald head in a tub of whipped cream whilst he battles with Cheshire Cat grin-inducing stage fright/thinks about Aliona dressed as a sexy French maid. I’d say sorry to sweepstaker Abi that she's out so soon, but she texted mid-show on Saturday to say she was willing to double her stake to have Gregg leave first, so... 

As for the dance-off victor, Jenny wasn’t the worst (or the 'worst') by a loooong shot (hello Gregg, Scott and Judy), but her appearance in the bottom two does suggest that that the power of the Mrs Brown’s Boys phone vote is probably quite weak, in spite of nearly ten million viewers tuning in at Christmas.  At least she avoided being bottom of the Wardrobe stakes this week; she hit the jackpot with that gorgeous waltz dress with inbuilt Miss World sash - even the red and pink clashing worked for me.  It was a slight shame that Tristan kept revealing Jenny’s flesh-coloured back-stocking when in hold, but I’m willing to forgive such a minor transgression on this occasion, because I’m fair that way - and not at all because Tristan’s so very handsome when his arm tattoos aren’t in sight.  I'm not *that* shallow. Mind you, I'm shallow enough to find Jenny's gapping utterly incomprehensible given the chance she had to cleave to such a hottie. No wonder Claudia bagged Tristan to walk her down the stairs this week.

Anton and Judy were lucky to escape the dreaded D.O, as I very much doubt they'd have survived it. Oh Judy. You seem a hoot, but I really thought that even du Beke's army of devoted fanladies and their landline mobilisation wouldn’t be enough to overcome the dis-AH-STAH that was this cha cha cha.  Where to begin?  Well, on the plus side Judy looked divine (what pins!) and she had more or less memorised the foot placement.  On the other side... look, it’s an Anton latin, so my hopes weren’t high, but still - using a manky white towel and stuffing it in Judy’s face for a few seconds as a legitimate dance move? Just no. Surely it's a given that anything which reminds the audience of perspiration isn’t going to get the cha cha party started?

But regardless - and without wishing to go all uncritical, cuddly Len here - the fact remains that, apart from the ninety seconds for which she’s actually on the dancefloor, Judy Murray appears to be having the time of her life. She clearly loves rehearsing with Anton, she clearly loves all the Strictlyfication, and she even seems to love the judges’ comments - she cackles away at the merest hint of a Bruno arm thrust.  So good on her.  Cause it somewhat unbelievably looks like she may yet get a few more weeks to enjoy it. 

Good too on Natalie Lowe - Dapper Tim was the obvious predicted first boot when the celebs were announced, and here he is, two weeks in, nowhere near the dance off and ready to face another seven days of being charming to Natbot, who is LAPPING up the posh English thing with the widest of Aussie eyes.  Nat knows where her bread is buttered - take a ‘codger’ candidate as far as you can, and you might well be rewarded with a glitterball-achieving studmuffin the next year.  Natalie's choreography was wonderfully cracked out here; I think she was supposed to be a star which briefly manifested itself in 'Beautiful Human Lady Wot Waltzes' form, but, arguably, an equally valid (and slightly more  unsavoury) interpretation could be: 'pervy old man spies on his hot young female neighbour with a telescope then has a few old sexy thoughts about it symbolised through the medium of dance'. Either way they managed to make it sweetly and innocently romantic, rather than dirty man stalker creepy, so bravo to them.

What’s with the green snood on Tim’s head in rehearsals though?  There was some suggestion online that he's a toupee man, but I’m fairly sure that's his real hair. Maybe it’s protection against the subtle tones of Just For Men leaking on the temples?  

Whilst we're on the subject of Tim's VT, how ‘Tory Wife’ does the frightfully elegant Mrs Wonnacott look?  I’m absolutely not casting aspersions on Tim’s fidelity (Mr and Mrs Wonnacott’s love is unquestionably true), but it can’t be ignored that Mrs Tim’s style has something of the ‘being supportive on the doorstep after your MP husband was caught red-handed with a call girl, some bondage gear and a tangerine during the nineties’ about it. 

Mind you, as weird nineties flashbacks go, Scott and Joanne’s tango to the Spice Girls is going to take some beating. I’d (sort-of, maybe) understand if they were tangoing to Spice Up Your Life (I wouldn't, actually), but ‘Stop!’?!?! "Stop right there, thank you very much": THE CLUE IS IN THE VERY LYRICS.  Not that it necessarily mattered that much; apart from one or two tango head tosses, Scott could have been doing any ballroom dance and we’d have struggled to guess what it was.  His tango face was a particular mystery; his pout seemed to involve his cheeks puffing up, fish-meets-hamster-stylee and, for a man in shape, that waistcoat was not a good fit.  (I think it came from the Tess Daly Lingerie Shop of Upper Body Ghost Chubs).

But it matters little, if at all, that Scott was a bit rubbish, as he comes across as a genuinely likeable person the audience have warmed to, and (importantly), will vote for.  Even recycling Vinthent's famous poo slacks into a shiny brown shirt and tie wasn’t a vote stopper.

Tell you which outfit WAS a vote stopper though – Mark's hideous jumper. What the TOWIE was that about?  Clearly someone in Wardrobe had lost his real outfit, so was forced to palm off their grandad’s grey lounge sweater as valid dancewear, by gluing some glitter stripes on to it.  Then again, the jumper of gross served a very useful purpose of distracting all attention from Mark's obscenely tight casual dance-chinos.  

As for Mark's dance, well, I refuse to accept that we’re allowing an American Smooth in Week Two, so will only consent to comment that he and Karen did an ok foxtrot.

Alison too, did some ok foxtrot, but really this dance (and I imagine EVERY dance she will ever do) was less about a particular ballroom style and more  about her infectious performing ability.  Aljaž is evidently entirely on board with playing to Alison's strengths and is going through his role play dressing up box as we speak (lucky, lucky Janette). So far we’ve had Sexy Bodyguard and Sexy Office Minion, and... actually I don’t think it’s wise, from a hormonal/hot flush perspective, to think about about what Sexy Character Aljaž will be in Movie Week.

For yes, it’s Movie Week next week, so they really are sticking with the Theme Thing. *sigh* In all honesty, they’ve worn me down now, so I’m fury-free and just letting it wash over me. It is officially NOT because they hinted that they might dress Thom as a sailor.  Oh no. 

In terms of dressing Thom up, I’m not quite sure what his red sequin vest and white trousers were supposed to signal.   He seemed to be somewhere between ‘beach volleyball referee’ and ‘Baywatch lifeguard’. Vest'n'slacks worked for Steve Backshall, but in truth this wasn't my favourite 'Overtly Objectifying Thom Evans' look of choice. Besides, Ivetamazing had already won the costume stakes with her amazing ten denier, tigerprint rehearsal tights.  Rrrrrrrr.

Thometa's salsa wasn’t too bad, but given Iveta’s poker straight leg extensions and massive acrylic blonde weave, it did look like he was chucking Tropical Barbie around here and there.  He also needs to develop some more facial expressions - ‘inhumanely handsome’ is good, but there’s only so far ‘inhumanely handsome but possibly also made of cardboard’ can take you.  Then again, room-for-improvement leaves some potential to go through The Journey, so I'm not discounting him yet.

I really thought Jake would be The Journey this year, but it’s evident that he has one hundred percent arrived already.  ¡Dios mío! ¡Aiiiiiiie Manrara!  

WHAT A SALSA.  

It was truly great, wasn't it? It's safe to say it was everyone’s favourite of the night, and it quite possibly could be the dance of the series (yes, it can happen this early – remember Sophie’s 2013 charleston?).  I certainly knew the expression 'snake hips' before Jake's salsa, but I'm not sure I so truly understood it.

However, as good as Jake was, I reckon much of the praise should go to Janette's abs. I am in crazy awe of her crazy core - that back bend/foot catch thing has gone STRAIGHT into my Legendary Strictly Moves Top Five, second only to John Sergeant dragging Kristina across the floor in that paso and Ola’s comedy breaststroke (IN THE CHARLESTON – MY GOD YOUR MINDS).

(The full list is:
1. Kristina and John Sergeant’s paso drag.
2. Ola swimming on Chris Hollins in the Charleston.
3. Janette’s #coreawe back bends.
4. Big waltz steps slipping into splits (I think Kristina did it first, but I’m willing to be corrected).
5. Anytime Natalie Lowe does her ballroom head whip.)

I’m worried that Jake might struggle to sustain the now sky-high hopes of the nation in the weeks to come, but he’s put in a truly excellent early bid for the glitterball and we’d be foolish to ignore it.

OK, where are we at, then?  Surely there can’t be many left to talk about.  Oh just the six couples to go?  *Gritted teeth* GREAT!

So let’s talk (briefly, oh so attemptedly briefly) about Jake’s main rivals at the top then.  Pixie was too busy to practice, what with all her exciting chat show appearances, but she (of course) still managed to trot out a boringly excellent waltz. Slightly bizarrely, she did so wearing the lesser-spotted Waltz Bra, which Trent kept trying to cover up with the equally rare Waltz Blanket (both available from all good dancewear shops, I’m sure).  

I still prefer 'tother pop princess, Frankie (and her perfect face – the spit of Alizée, if you’re into your inappropriately-aged French pop, as I’m sure you must be). However, I was well grumpy that she and Kevin did an amazing charleston to the Happy Days theme when it should have been an amazing, amazing jive. Bah humbug. 

Actually, my MAIN grump of the evening was the tango music choices which Caroline and Simon danced to. Just... Just... JUST ARGH!  JUST AWFUL!  JUST ANOTHER BAD WORD THAT STARTS WITH AN 'A' WHICH I'LL THINK OF IN A MINUTE HOW ABOUT UM OH I KNOW ATROCIOUS!  I mean, come on!  A song that incites 'glow stick aloft' waving actions does not a tango make - yes, I’m looking at you, 'Blame by Calvin Harris' (irrespective of the fact that no-one’s used a glow stick since the nineties.  Ahem). 

Truth is, I’ve since re-watched both tangos and now calmly accept that Blame and Simon’s tune Sing aren’t as quite as tango-unfriendly as I first decided (they're still shit, just not all-caps-mega-rant shit).  It’s just that I’ve now reached an age where I’m not as au fait with The Hit Parade as I was and I’m lucky to have heard OF a recent song, let alone heard IT.  Maybe if I had been highly familiar with the Ed Sheeran and Calvin Harris originals I’d have reached a different view, but I wasn't, and I should probably remember the crushing reality that Dave Arch’s Wonderful Orchestra struggles a little with the more modern numbers.

Anyway, music aside, the tango performances themselves were pretty stellar, whatever the judges thought. I particularly loved Simon and Kristina’s little Argentine Tango calf caress section, and Simon’s puffy-chested fronting at the end of the dance, before Kirstina allowed him to break character.  Bruno might have thought Simon needed “MORRRRRE AN-EEE-MALLLLLL” in his tango face, but I thought he had the pout down pat; let’s face it, nothing hones a textbook sexy-moody expression like years of boyband photoshoots.

Caroline’s tango face was also practiced, we learnt - apparently inspired by Pasha suggesting that Caroline pretended he was one of her exes.  (Cue immediate thoughts of Pasha morphing into Harry Styles - though without wishing to incur the death-threat-inciting hatred of One Direction fans, I’m keen to stress that such a change would be a serious disservice to man and womankind.) Caroline also coped admirably with Wardrobe styling her in a spherical tomato costume (so bad), as well as Pasha's somewhat surreal random-suitcaseography.

(NEARLY THERE, FOLKS, NEARLY THERE.)

In the grand scheme of things, it looks like there’s one group of Glitterball Challengers (Simon, Caroline, Pixie, Frankie, Jake, possibly/probably Mark, Thom) and another group of Glitterball challeng-ed (Judy, Scott, Jenny, Tim). This week’s other cha-cha-ers Sunetra and Steve sit (along with Alison) somewhere in the middle at the moment, with real potential to join the top gang, possibly relegating the likes of Thom or Mark in the process.   

Sunetra, in car wash white, was really rather funky - the cha cha's not an easy dance for a woman in her forties, but Sunetra didn't look age-inappropriate at all. Which is more than I was can say for Brendan’s awful, spangle-overloaded, full chiffon-backed shirt.  What was that? You’re a thirty-eight year old man, Brendan! 

(Well, according to Wikipedia’s most recent edit, he is, which... Well, let's put it this way: I’m fairly sure Brendan’s been on Strictly for at least 38 years, so unless he started in his foetal days, the maths just doesn't add up.)  

I know other cha-cha-er Steve did a triumphant tango last week (grrrrrr), but his latin seems to have had less of an impact on my ‘feelings’.  It’s possible that the sequined safari shirt collar was too tightly done up for the ovary vote - which is VERY unlike Ola. Perhaps she didn't want her lady-sporran (in fetching turquoise this week) upstaged. You also got the sense from the ribbon fastenings that she might well have been going true, as well, which is... risky.

More probably, Ola was saving the pecs for an emergency, and relying on the tried and tested fashion mantra of tits or legs, with this week's focus on Steve's bottom half - indeed, never have the poo slacks been so successfully filled. (Oh dear, that came out wrong...) Basically I'm saying that Steve has a shapely posterior. And didn't he shake it well, if you'll forgive me for using Brucie phrasing, if not terminology.

One last thing, and a moment of great occasion if I'm right. Ladies and gentlemen, I *think* I heard Tess Daly finally successfully pronouncing "Ola Jordan". (“Oh-la”, no more!  Well, perhaps no more.) Well done TessTess! It's only taken a decade and a bit.

Much like writing/reading this blog, eh?

But worry not - we're nearly done though! Just a quick foray through Tess DressCanYouGuess? I don't think we can chalk up a mess here, frankly - I didn't love her white lightning bolts or paisley overload cocktail dresses, but there's no doubt that she's fixed her boob hoiking problems, so it's an overall success for me. In fact the paisley situation was quite something on the chest front - what a boosty difference an emphasising pattern makes.

Claudia also looked gorge-ia in a claret bat cape on Saturday and legs-out cream on Sunday. Turns out not wearing black doesn't impact her comedy powers - referring to Anton as a wooden racquet is one of her finest moments to date.

All that's left to bitch about is the pro-dance to Let It GOOOOOO, which involved wafting giant lady-hankies, backwards camera work and embarrassing icicles CGI, as well as hanging La ¡Manrara! from the ceiling by her arm (she is the strongest teeny woman EVER. I'm beginning to suspect she's actually Janette the Vampire Slayer). It was preposterous and tacky but also bloody brilliant in a WTAF kind of way.  I've not seen Frozen - more by circumstance than design - but if that's any indication, perhaps I'll join the four year olds and tantrum/insist on a Frozen-themed party for my next birthday, whereupon my guests will be treated to that performance on a loop for several hours. 

Oh my God, I think we might be done. Ye-owsers! Next week is Movie Week and we all have to brace ourselves for the TERRIBLE, TERRIBLENESS that is Donny Osmond in the form of a Guest Judge. (Did they learn NOTHING from Jennifer Grey?!?!) It's going to be disastrous, but we might as well just accept that it's happening, cause we're going to watch anyway. At least we've practiced our eyes-glazing-over skills over the Bruce years. That's if you have eyes left after making it this far. Cheers m'dears. Keeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep coping!

Series 12 - Week 1

Here we go!  Proper show time with real dances and everything; although it’s not quite full business as usual, as there’s no phone voting and no-one is getting kicked out this week.  Basically, the judges are gonna judge, judge, judge, but we don’t get get to cull, cull, cull, until next weekend.  

For the celebs, this week is all about getting the first TV-broadcast steps under their sequinned belts and practising their ‘when receiving criticism remain eager, modest and relaxed even if you are indifferent, seething or crying inside’ faces.  For us, a non-vote show means sussing out partnership chemistry and the 'likeability-to-performance-ability' ratio; a rubbish dancer can go a looooong way if the audience is with them (Myers/Widdecombe), but early skill means nothing round these parts if it’s too polished (Gabby Logan).

We’ve got a whole weekend of it - a quick snippet on Friday (a mere hour), then masses more on Saturday - so let’s launch right in, shall we?

Friday’s proceedings

Off go the whirly orchestral strings and let’s all take a moment to rejoice that we have no Bruce!!!  Hooray!  No doddery, shoddery, crappy old tap-dancing to see here - instead, Tess and Claude are led down the stairs by two of our male pros.  Claudia has entirely wisely plumped for Aljaz to manhandle her down the steps.  Tess has gone for Brendan, which is a less convincing choice, but his ego probably demanded it. 

On any other day, I'd also be applying the description 'less convincing' to Tess' jumpsuit, but there must be something in the air, for I happen to think she looks rather excellent (!?!?!?!  WHAAAAT?!?  EXCELLENT?!?  IN A JUMPSUIT?!?  ARE YOU INSANE?!?  ETC ETC?!?).

I know.  But there you go.  Yes, I would still always advocate a skirty bottom in such cases, but Tess’ lacy cap sleeve arm detail is rather gorgeous and, most of all, it all fits.  IT ALL FITS!!!  (By which I mean that Tess' boobs are exactly where you would expect/hope they would be).   TessDressYesSuccess is a turn up for the books, and a blow to the blogging community, but credit where it is due (to Tess' underwear merchants).

It also essentially proves my theory that Tess was dressing all wonky to guard against any impure thoughts that Bruce might possibly have had, especially during that unbearable, outrageously dated, thigh grab at the start.  Now the coast is clear, Tess can walk out with confidence.  Mind you, if I'm honest, Claude's fairly likely to go for a squeeze, if she fancies it.  But I suppose it's probably welcome - everyone with working brain cells crushes on Claudia Winkleman.

Mind you, on the subject of La Winkles, all is not quite as it should be - it's still Claudia, so we're fine - but 1. her fringe is not buried in her eyes, 2. her eyes are not kohled to within an inch of a panda's life and 3. she is NOT IN BLACK.  She still looks lovely, but not Claudia-lovely.  This better not have any-Samson like impact on her behaviour...

Tess and Claude then get the judges to dance in (which seems to be a slightly inadvisable New Thing) and my main thoughts are: they look creaky and it's not always nice to make older people dance without letting them warm up first.

And then...

It's. Time. To Meet. The Stars. Of Our Show.

Anton is already in a kilt.  Clearly they don't hold out much hope for a long Judy tenure. (Sad face.)  

Seeing as there are a billion competitors, I'm going to run through them, couple by couple, lest I forget someone (Sunetra) or go on at particular length about someone else (Steve's vest).  And so, onwards!

Caroline Ex-Factor and Pasha

Oh THERE'S Claudia's fringe; Caroline’s wearing it, BOOM BOOM, for they've unexpectedly dressed her in a long t-shirt with golden streamers fringing off it.  (If that description makes the dress sound dubious, then I should disclaim that it isn't at all - it's just I want first dibs and I'm trying to put you off it.)  I was expecting self-conscious nervousness, but Caroline’s cha chat is really, really excellent.  She immediately moves right up my pecking order - she doesn't have the obvious ringer status that Strictly fans detest, but she can clearly dance already.  Perhaps Vix could be the first Sweepstaker to make this two in a row...

Tim Antiques and Natbot

Props to Natalie for working unbelievably hard to make it seem like she's utterly delighted at being paired with a wacky older gentleman who doesn't have much (any) natural flair for the cha cha cha.  (She's actually working hard enough to make me think it might be genuine, but surely not - it's a pre-programmed robot setting, right?)  Despite Nats' enthusiasm, things on the dancefloor really are a struggle, even if Tim still oozes confidence and goes for it.  Perhaps it's the oozing confidence that's the problem, in fact, and that's why his cha cha walks having something of the “soiled nappy” about them, as Craig so kindly pointed out.  It's actually Natalie who has the pants of note - her mint green dress is basically bejeweled Bridget Joneses, with some material flapping off them.   At least Tim's got the latin out the way on the non-phone vote week.  Maybe Isabelle's £1 stake will sneak on to week three yet.

Jake Eastenders and Janette ¡Manrara!

Jake's main challenge will be to look happy during the cheeky dances, but they're kindly easing him in with the tango, where his instinctive dance facial expression of 'concentration and fury' is perfect.  And it works - he is GREAT.  It's no surprise that an Eastenders baddie can do moody and menacing, but Jake seems to be able to dance too; there's a bit of hoochy tooch (not in a good Tyra way), but other than that it's a really promising tango.  This is the 'journey', no question, so I think Katie's stake has a chance of going really quite far.  And hopefully others will now also be converted to my ¡Manrara! fandom, after Julien's hyper-annoyingness turned out to be more than enough for two last year. 

Judy and Anton

After the group dance, it seemed fairly clear that Judy needs some serious tuition, which is a shame really, as Anton's prime motivation is less ‘teaching’ and more ‘making chin-heavy muggy faces at the camera’.  The VT suggests they mainly laughed and ate cake.  I suppose it's good for Judy's image - though if you think about it for half a second, it's not THAT surprising that someone would come across as an intense joyless harridan, if the only time you ever see them is when their kid is competing and they're dealing with the natural parent-fear that their kid will require serious mum-comforting if they don't do well.  ANYWAY, Judy and Anton are waltzing to Mull of Kintyre, in tartan, with a real life piper on stage, leaving Scottish Mr Cad to exclaim, in mock despair, "Oh GOD. Are they going to fuck a haggis halfway through?".  They didn't, but there wasn't a huge amount of natural waltzing either and Anton did have to resort to some shunt and drag.  So sorry, sweepstaker Ben, I don’t think this is to be Anton’s year, after all.  On the plus side, Judy looked BEAUTIFUL and the judges did their best not to be too mean about it all.  Fortunately, Judy was in total mega-fan viewer mode anyway and had forgotten the judges were there to talk about her dancing.  When Bruno did his line about her “maiden voyage experiencing turbulence” she just chuckled away like she was watching this on the telly and he was talking about Fiona Phillips.

Scott Radio 1 and Joanne

So Judy wasn’t great and Tim had trouble, but my absolute favourite terrible dance of the night - nay of the WEEKEND - was Scott Mills' BRILLIANTLY AWFUL cha cha to Rock DJ, for which Craig offered up a (generous) 2.  It's fair to say that Scott walking around looking mildly clammy and slightly delirious, whilst Joanne did wide-eyed faces at the camera, before they both did some pointing, is not your usual cha cha cha, but it was somehow adorably charming.  Which means, Julie, that I'm fairly sure your sweepstake pound will be fine for a few weeks to come.  They also have properly good celeb pulling power; Week One and already the likes of Robbie Williams cameoing in the VT, accusing Scott of having stolen his Rock DJ tiger pants.  (Scott denies it, but you can tell from the immense blushing that he totally did - or it's clearly not the first time he's had a moment thinking about Robbie's pants.)  Anyway, I'll totally sulk if Scott leaves next week, so I'm counting on you, the Great British public.  Love you byeeeee.

Pixie Pop Princess #1 and Trent

It might be unfair, but I'm not predisposed to much like Pixie - possibly as it's clear she's barely even heard of Strictly Come Dancing, and die-hard fans like me prefer their contestants to arrive fully immersed in the relevant SCD mythology.  Sadly, the most ‘interesting’ thing they've found about Pixie so far is that “she likes fashion”, which doesn't bode well.  It’s not even interesting to find that she’s good at dancing - because, well, of course she is.  She’s clinically good, really, but I couldn’t actually 100% focus on her jive, as her dress was SO SHORT that I was too busy counting gusset flashes.  (It’s hard to look directly at them; Pixie and Trent are so tits and teeth blond that they painfully gleam directly into your retina.)  But my own reticence aside, I don't think Justine needs to worry about her pound stake just yet - ability and high scores will carry Team Bland Blond pretty far.  And they both have time to develop a personality (even if there’s a looooong way to go on that).  Maybe Trent's just a bit shy at the moment and does have the character to jujje things up - after all, he did use the “fella over there with the hella good hair” bit in the Taylor Swift rap to choreograph himself some manhairography, sneakily running his hands through his blond locks and pouting - that certainly shows promise.

And so, a quick flash of dance and Pixie's pants later, that's Friday done and dusted.  Let's see what Saturday will bring...

Saturday’s proceedings

Things kick off with a pro dance to Bastille's Pompeii, which has the novelty of being a modern song wot I am aware of.  We are mainly treated to what it looks like when Aliona actually tries dancing at her best (she’s fantastic), but the special effects team have finally been let loose on the superimposing images machine and it’s all very exciting - no-one’s going to pass up additional Aljaz, are they?  It’s also a good chance to see which pro is dancing with which other pro this year, after the mass pro-jumble you get from losing James, Robin and Erin.  We seem to have Ola and Pasha, Karen and Kevin, Aliona and Brendan, Kristina and Tristan, Iveta and Anton, Trent and Nat, and Aljaz and Joanne, with Janette a lovely floater, but they’re clearly happy to partner swap, as everyone seemed to end up with a totally different person than whoever they started with.  Though, sometimes the pro dances are just a mass of head whips and women being chucked over men’s heads, so you can’t see nuffink anyway.

Clearly the producers realised overnight that the Claudia Friday makeover was total folly and she happily returns with creeping fringe, baby panda eyeliner and full black dress, with lovely jewelled black beehive bodice detail.  Tess makes it an UNHEARD OF two out of two, in perfectly hoisted slick black and scarlet.  They make the judges dance in again, and the camera sticks with Len at his campest, when it should be focusing on Darcey’s swishy skirt.  Know your audience, Mr Vision Mixer.

Then yadda, yadda, stars of our show, and we’re off.

Mark TOWIE and Karen

Mark begins with an inexplicable foray towards Uniform Dating.com, dressed in a hard hat and high vis jacket over his spangly vest.  I haven’t watched Towie much, but I don’t remember his ‘character’ being ‘construction worker’ - I thought it was ‘perma-tanned lad’.  He's clearly learnt all the cha cha moves Karen’s given him, down to the careful hand placement just below the rib cage, but there's still some finesse to do - it's a bit ‘by numbers’ and default camp for now.  He's only going to get better and if he manages to keep his ITV2ness toned down, sweepstaker Jo might see her pound sticking around for a wee while yet.      

Alison Big Brother and Aljaž       

Post-Riley, it’s no longer a mind-blowing surprise to anyone that size isn’t the main constraint to danceability, and that rhythm and performance can come in a whole range of shapes and sizes.  Alison was great - but I was expecting her to be great.  And perhaps I was expecting her to be slighter greater than she was, as those feet were a bit flat, in spite of the truly contagious joy she was busting out in her cha cha.  Regardless, I think think Laura’s stake will go far, especially as I’d completely forgotten just how hot-flushingly, hormone-inducingly, phone-vote-friendlily hot hot HOT Aljaž is.  Dressed as a body guard, in those aviator shades...  Thom’s got competition, especially whilst his stomach is hidden under a cummerbund.

Steve Wildlife and Ola      

My first act was to send a screenshot to my sister of Steve straddling his motorbike, looking full Lion-O - cause that's a special look.  My second act was to take note that, yes, yes, guns, but also: Steve can tango!  For me, Mr Backshall was the biggest surprise - I wasn’t expecting such a cheesy grin to morph into menacing attack and sexy tango face.  I think Dan’s got a real shot at the £15 jackpot here.  If Steve lives up to the dance potential he showed tangoing in a glittery vest, and Ola can channel the love the public had for her in her Team Cola days, then that’s a powerful combo indeed.  It probably helps that Ola is happy to wear a strappy lady-sporran instead of an actual skirt.  

Jennifer Irish and Tristan Irish  

Well, they have a sweet mother and son thing going on (let’s say a young mother, for the sake of kind aging purposes – he’s 32, she’s 50), but Jennifer’s jiving was a little more about the resting than the energy (not that I’m sure I’d be able to kick and flick for a minute and a half without collapse).  They seemed cute together, but I think we were probably banking on raucous Oirish pub chat appeal to bring the votes in, so I fear that Holly's pound stake will soon be part of a jackpot over which she'll have no claim.  Jennifer looked good in her funky jive dress though.  And so did Tristan, in that practise hoody... *fans self*

Thom Rugby Hunk and Iveta

They’re really hammering this showmance, aren’t they?  Thom seems a little more willing than Iveta, but that might be because I’m (sadly) detecting a hint of 'blandly suggestible' under that laboratory-honed physique.  Having said that, I pretty much always find the waltz a dull dance, so there’s still time to pec it up and get the laydeez and gaydeez on board.  Thom’s just too beautiful to endanger Terry’s hold on the sweepstake just yet.

Sunetra Casualty and Brendan

Another pleasant surprise - though I am a sucker for a tango, especially in such an excellent teal dress with dramatic swish appeal.  It's the first time we’ve seen hospital-ward-ography too - I'm not sure that was quite as successful as Sunetra's skirt, but it was worth pushing the medical references, as I've totally added 'Bad Case Of Loving You (Doctor, Doctor)' to my karaoke list (choon!).  I still think Sunetra will struggle to knock out some of the younger, perkier contestants, but she might leave one or two CASUALTIES (yessssss) in her tracks, so don’t despair yet, Sweepstaker Louise.

Gregg Masterchef and Aliona

"Oh yes, Gregg, it ees totally normal to wear the evening gloves for the cha cha.  No no, it ees not because I do not vant to touch you under any circumstances."

"Ok Aliona."

I suppose Gregg channelled some variation on 'cheeky', even if his interpretation of the cha cha was partway between 'hetero stereotype of camp' and 'overexcited toddler needing a wee'.  Maybe I'd be more into this if I were a Masterchef fan, but as things stand I think it's best for all of us if Abi doesn't keep hold of her sweepstake pound this year.

Frankie Saturdays and Kevin from Grimsby

Something in my eye!  Something in my eye!  Yes, FINE, I shed a tear (it was the morning after my birthday, so...), but I found Frankie's waltz really gorgeous and moving, so I was totally sold, in spite of Kevin's Blair-esque shirt sweat patches (that was an unforgiving shade of nylon taupe).  Rightly or not, I think that Pixie will be seen as the pop princess dirty ringah, and Frankie might have some pressure off.  And if the British public can stomach a female winner when Thom and Steve's muscles are in contention...  Well, after this showing, Beth's our sweepstaker winner this year.

Simon Blue and Kristina

So, dressing like all the Jersey Boys and getting his jive on suits Simon better than forcing harmonised vocals at the giant Dusseldorf's Esprit Arena dressed as a beefy ringmaster (as much as I really enjoyed Blue’s Eurovision performance).  This was - as expected - very competent.  And you've got to love good old Kristina, stunning in Fuck You scarlet, cheerleading him along with every last perfectly coiffed, manicured and toned particle in her body.  She's been having a shitty old tabloid time of it, so here's a public Strictlycad response: Back Off Misogynist Slaggers, I want a sweepstake win!  (Slightly preferred your big meringuey Marilyn hair though, K-Rhi.)

And that's that - there's yer lot for Week 1.   All in all, a lot of promise for the months to come.  Next week heralds the return of kicking people out, via (I assume) the dreaded Dance Off.  As things stand, surely Anton's fanbase is too powerful to harm Judy just yet (how ever hard Andy may or may not want his mum to stop dancing)?  And I think Scott will, and Tim might, sneak past. Which probably means we’re looking at a Jennifer v Gregg battle, with Jennifer victorious.  Though, the Week 2 dances will hold more sway than this week’s - and Lord only knows the power of the Mrs Brown’s Boys phone vote...

So, lo, Winter may be coming, but there are exciting times ahead! There's only one thing for it...   Keeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep watching!