2017 - Week 5

Yellow waistcoat-off!  With the ‘muted’ tones of Simon’s mustard plaid beating out Brian’s pure canary.  Tara Brian.  Probably the right call.  I suspect that, in the end, Brian and Amy’s theme colours of yellow and electric blue divided the nation; some reminded of beautiful unadulterated who cares that it’s unnecessary tat look at the cheap cheap bags of multi-coloured scissors, ‘sheep’-skin rugs, a million candles and monochrome picture frames consumerist joy!  Whilst others were taken back to the chilling capitalist hell that is other people fighting over the same unpronounceable vowel sound named chest of drawers/desk/office chair in an unheated warehouse having traipsed for seven hours around a maze of modern interior design – but we JUST left the sofas and kitchen section HOW are we back to children’s furniture and not at the POSTERS yet NO NO NO, NO MORE BILLYS WHY DID WE COME AT HALF TERM ARGHHHH. 

Personally, I LOVE Ikea – my flat is 95% Dröna storage boxes, but it’s not the ideal theme for a slightly tired jive.  It probably needed more meat balls.  Fare ye well Brian, you weren’t the annoying throwback I feared you’d be.  

Some might wonder how he lost to Simon, but I think it’s that Rimmer is channelling the Calman joy – he’s just so happy to be there and it's pretty infectious.  That charleston was a hot stinky mess but I laughed heartily throughout; from the opening mysterious violinography (the song was “Fit as a fiddle”, YOU SEE), via every single move from the ‘Charleston for Dummies’ book, before introducing a new slapstick horse riding move – dressage is the new swimming, clearly.  And  all that whilst wearing matching waistcoat and trews made from the worst tartan ever.  Poor that clan.  McReally?

But where was Joe’s kilt?!!  I must have been misinformed.  (Besides, we’ve already had a kilted paso, which was mainly about Kenny Logan’s haggis, gawd help Olachops.)  This way more traditional one was exciting, moody, and just so good... I flipping loved it.  Am truly girl-crushing Queen Katya.  Yeah yeah, kiltless Joe was fine, but can we see it again with Gorka please?  Then I’m sure full marks would be justified, Shirl...  (Though it was worth la Ballas cracking out the ten paddle to see the forums have a meltdown.)

Yup, the scoring was all over the place - ten-gate aside, Susan’s pretty ropey cha cha got a Ballas seven.  A SEVEN!  SB blinded by the Calman joy, as we all are.  Without Bruno’s extra scores, the leader-board looked even more insane than usual.  Debbie topping the charts, doesn't seem that surprising.  Though, personally, I struggled to handle her and Gio’s rumba - conditioned as I no doubt am to find multigenerational sensual writhing a little cringe.  Also white pant flash. A LOT of white pant flash.  Was that really so necessary?

It's more that, after Joe, there was a four-way tie for third place, before Alexandra in seventh place.  SEVENTH.  Are you £%$*@~#-ing me?  That samba was amazeballs!  Sure, there might have been tecchie issues, but I’ve done zumba – I know how impossible samba walks are.  And she had to dance to Ed Sheeran – give the girl a break!

In truth, I don’t really care about the scores – they never bear have much of a relationship with reality.  But there was nothing particularly memorable about the jointly placed foursome, other than Jonnie’s blade of glory quickstep – I was transfixed by the footwork, to the extent that I *nearly* forgot the supermarket sweep theme.  After delivery boy Gio, you’ve got to wonder what’s doing it for the production staff – maybe there’s a particularly desirable Sainsbury’s employee in Elstree they’ve all got the horn about.

The other fourway members were Gemma (competent but forgettable ‘worried face’ ballroom), Aston (competent but forgettable ‘billowing shirt’ ballroom) and Mollie (competent but forgettable ‘princess white pearl dress small girls and not so small girls and indeed small and not small boys will be having tantrums about not owning’ ballroom).  Oh, a word on Baby AJ’s wondrous outfit before I move on – not about the tightest of faintly pink trousers (who left that red item in the whites' wash – Davood and his scarlet jive shirt, perhaps?), but special mention to his LILAC CRAVAT.  A child in a lilac cravat!  MwahahaHAHA.  Applause to all involved.  How. I. Laffed.

More perhaps than I laffed at Anton’s costume.  Though it’s a tough call, because... Well where to begin?  With Ruth’s wig probably – I don’t recall anyone having such a varied run of excellent (‘excellent’) synthetic wigs before now.  This one - the ‘shit Cagney’ (not Lacey) - was extraordinary in its plastic bounce.  But it wasn’t enough to rival Anton’s pink glitter slacks and giant Mariachi sleeves, was it?  Oh no.  What I most appreciated here though was that we've finally reached a state of public acceptance that Anton is utterly utterly shit at Latin and it's now all about his knowing attempts to joke his way through it.  

Yes, ladies and gentleman, Anton du Beke has worn me down, and I hand-on-heart enjoyed this samba.  

Ruth Langsford – what a good sport.  Sure, she looked a bit embarrassed to be there – who wouldn’t when Anton risked the sequinned crotch seamwork with a high attitude pirouette – and she kept missing her steps, but I’m happy to see them survive this week.  I’ll almost certainly not feel the same when she takes out anyone that’s not Rimmer, but for now, bravo.  And I await the next (Halloween) wig with anticipation. 

I await Bruno’s return too – it wasn’t quite the same without him, in spite of Craig’s imitation tantrum.  Bruno would have unashamedly waggled his ten paddle prematurely for a dancer he liked too, guys.  And the judges’ entrance will go back to being a slightly shambolic piece of dance improv, rather than the spectacular one we had one on both Saturday - Shirley dancing on her own - and Sunday - Shirley torn as to where to pose, and practically headbutting Darcey in the confusion.  Don’t worry though, SB, it doesn’t matter how many years you practice the judges’ entrance dance, experience doesn’t seem to make any difference to the hotmessery.  See, for example, Darcey’s fishtail flamenco number, which meant her dance entry was less footwork and more a-man-of-a-certain-age pleasing wiggle-shuffle.

Tess was also going for the dad vote; Baywatch ballgown and black slinky.  Tess is looking so good this year – her stylist has clearly stopped hating her, or has been replaced by someone with a degree in good taste and control pant expertise.  It was Claudia, however, who rose to the highest of fashion magnificence on Saturday, in a cajj lady tux and the reddest of lippy.  Just gorgeous.  Women of my generation will be scheming for an occasion to crack out that look, come hell or highwater.  I'm blousing up for the nursery run this evening.

And that’s more or less that, bar The Script performing (loo break), and a very pleasing sixties pro-power jive, which is worth a little iPlayer dabble.  None of last week’s Pleather Prison’s craziness, but there were plastic dance welly boots and several man turtlenecks.  Much needed feelgood factor, especially when Pasha slid in carrying a tray of wonky cocktails glued in place.  Glad to see his time off is being used so effectively.

Next week... Halloween’s a coming, folks.  Gulp.  Time to turn off the lights and pretend to be out, lest small children try and con you out of chocolate.  BACK OFF KIDS.  MINE.  Keeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep etc.

2017 - Week 4

It seems to be Friday, which is quite a lot of days after our Week 4 show, but I have belatedly blogged – again!  Two in a row.  Go me.  I’d like to thank my toddler for contracting hand, foot and mouth disease and napping extensively whilst I have to take time from paid employment.  (He’s fine, thanks – a bit disgusting in the rashy parts, but no loss of energy or two year old willpower.  We had a fifteen minute stand-off this morning whilst he refused to climb some stairs.  I’d had have uploaded this sooner if I hadn’t been mere frustrating metres away from wifi.)

Anyway, remember last week?  Charlotte left – and I was grateful she, and we, and the judges were put out of our collective miseries before it got really really sour (BRENDAN).  There's only so many weeks the judges could comment on natural physical beauty being the main (only) positive.  I don't think it was cool of Bruno to openly laugh in Charlotte’s face, but that is pretty much the bitchy flamboyant Italian manifestation of my own view. That jive was just cringeworthy; awkward wedding theme, more jogging than jiving, and Brendan in a paunchy shiny pink waistcoat - it was all very manmade fibres.  Yes, yes, she looked beautiful, but it was a no brainer against Davood (rhymes with Havard) and his sexy/gurning/I am ACTING with my FACE Viennese Waltz.  (BTW, I am really into the V-Wah this series).  I think Davood’s going to struggle though – he’s likely to stay mid-table and could eventually come a cropper against one of the more experienced dancers.

Brian too was doing lots of ACTING with his FACE, channelling rock star mid-riff with guyliner and the kind of expression weaned babies tend to have when they are pushing out a sizeable poo.  But his paso was a very enjoyable guilty pleasure and I’m really warming to Amy.  Strictly is benefitting from high-pitched, excitable Welshness.

But soz, the Welsh, cause the real highlight this week wasn’t Amy’s studded hair (whilst up there), it was the final three dances.  WOWSERS.  One of my favourite show endings evah, and completely unexpected.  What a trio: Alexandra Jive BOOM! TENS!  Jonnie American Smooth VELVET! WALKOVER!  And Susan Calman Quickstep JOY! MORE JOY! EVEN MORE light on her feet fancy kick work JOY!  Honestly, all three were brilliant and uplifting. They offered an emotional connection that I’ve never got from Debbie, or Aston TBH.

Actually, Debbie had her first dodgy week of judging - but I hate the cha cha, so it doesn’t really count, right?  The risk with Debbie is that it’s all a bit high kicks and pelvic thrusts, which is fine when it’s masked by other content (paso gusset wafting, cougar snogs, general dance ability), but this was mainly a lot of Giovanni in overalls and delivery man is not a fantasy thing, guys - not in these times of Deliveroo/Yodel/oh you've just 'hidden' the giant parcel under the doormat/yes but where is my extra herb and garlic dip which you’re still going to charge me for Dominos.

Gemma on the other hand, is slowly getting better (*journey klaxon*) knocking out a solid paso this week.  And whilst I hated the outfits (synchronised swim teams/maypole dancers go dungeon play) and I hated the music (bullfighty sexual tension not generally conveyed by Coldplay), it was still dead good.  Please no more Chupa Chups colours for a paso though, Wardrobe - not even Aljaz could pull off that fuchsia bolero waistcoat with corset waistband trousers.

For me, Gemma's definitely climbing towards the top lot, up with the trained dancers like Alex, Debbie and Aston (in spite of his pigeon-toed quickstep about which I have little else to say).   It's Mollie and Joe who might be struggling between the top dogs and nearly dogs, and could slip into the dance off, via precarious-midtabledom.  At least Joe’s now survived a mincey old cha cha, so that’s promising (in no small part thanks to Katya's turquoise eyeliner - what a WOMAN).  I like Joe, and I hear he'll be wearing a kilt tomorrow, which OCH AYE.  (When we found out we having a baby boy, my first words to Mr Cad were "he'll be able to wear a KILT", so yeah... big fan.)

As for Mollie, she's nearly good, she's just a bit baby giraffe-y here and there - girl group gyration and hairography definitely remain her comfort zone.  I do wish AJ had avoided that legs akimbo lift in their salsa - yes, impressive, but also totes awks.  Not even the magnificence of that blue streamer dress and excellent King pins (GEDDIT?!!!!) could rescue her.

Speaking of unfortunate poses - HI SIMON, confidently starting his samba by thrusting and pointing at his penis repeatedly.  Thing is, it was clear this was his understanding of the choreography, rather than an ill-advised moment of testosterone driven improv.  And if Karen was choreographing for laffs - Simon did her proud.  The rest of the dance was almost as good - Simon stayed on the spot grinning and doing some more pelve whilst Karen samba-ed around him, using bum feathers to distract.  It was throwback and atrocious in so many ways, but I respect the Samba tradition and dad dancing audacity.  Don't tell anyone, but I’ve perhaps warmed to Rimmer.

At the other end of the lolz scale, Ruth’s super serious tango left me a bit zzzzzz tbh.  It was fine, and I know she's universally loved, but pffffff.  I'm afraid wouldn't be too sad to see her return to daytime TV.  Also, Anton and a sexy masquerade Eyes Wide Shut theme?  Nope.

Indeed, let’s move swiftly on to Sunday's opening pro-number.  And what have we here?  Oh Anton again - and a sexy Gladiator arena/gothic castle theme.  Oh come ON, Strictly.  PLEASE.  

In truth though, this was one of my favourite pro-stoppers in a while – this dance was off the scale INSANE, and YES, in a good way.  If you haven’t yet watched it, then do – you’ll be greeted with something which is a mix of Les Mis, Mad Max, Eurovision winner Wild Dances (a niche reference, you say? – not for this audience), steampunk, paso doble and a club bondage night.  I KNOW.  

Oh, and I’m not finished.  HELL NO!  Also add in some bells, ropes, sexy beckoning, cloaks, spears, Morris dancing thigh slaps, drums, panpipes, smoke, Pasha and Brendan as vampire overlords, Baby AJ getting cast as a macho prison guard (lollllz), Gorka getting cast as a macho prison guard (rrrrrrrz) and you’re starting to get a sense.  

The ‘plot’ was something to do with Aljaz, Kev and Gio being prisoners in a castle home to beautiful women in leather laces who produced flour from their hands when they clapped and had installed Anton on a throne, with a leaf crown - Joaquin Phoenix-style, deciding fates with a thumb sign.  SO TENSE, mwahaha.  Anyway, there's lots of FACE ACTING and sexy conflict dancing, and eventually the three prisoners escape Pleather Castle, but not before some homoerotic scenes where Gio gets dragged by the legs and Aljaz gets felt up against a portcullis and poor Kevin has to settle for holding up the gate for his hot mates.  They then find suddenly themselves dancing to an entirely different song, set in heaven or the ocean - it's not entirely clear which but there's a lot of blue chiffon wafting and Anton is now waltzing in his pyjamas.  It was totally ridiculous, but fucking EPIC. 

REPLAY.

What else?  Pash in vest and blouse dancing to Gregory Porter.  TessNoDressMess in excellent sculpted scarlet, then white and slinky - albeit having borrowed Claude’s satsuma spray tan.  Claudia did jailhouse stripes and space peplum, Shirley opted for an upholstery ballgown, but it somehow worked, and I think Darcey had another jumpsuit at some point (I’ve blanked it and it’s Friday).  The boys kept it tuxy.  At least we’ll get some man outfit pep come Halloween week.

Oooh, I'm fired up - by the pro-dance and Alex's jive mostly.  It’s starting to come together now – sure there’s plenty of beige in there, but even the beige throws up the possibility of crotch pointing or FACE ACTING.  I’m just off to watch the Gladiator pro-number again.  See you next time - let's see if I can blog three in a row.  Keeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep etc.

2017 - Week 3 - Movie Week

Oh yes... blogging... AKA 'not having a two year old'.  But I'm back - only two weeks late.   Oh no posts in 2016 you note.  So a year and two weeks late.  Thank you for noticing, she shouts into the ether.  But here I am, pearls of wisdom now ready to be unloaded, provided I can still get to bed at 9.30pm.

And what have we learned so far?  Well, that Ed Balls’ political legacy, as turns out, is giving the British public a taste for the comedy-tryer candidate, rather than the comedy-just-terrible candidate.  So lo, the Dave Myers-esque hilarity of Reverend Richard Coles was booted out this week, whilst Brian was rewarded for his American Smooth Wizard of Oz game by missing the dance off entirely – though he did make a genuinely excellent wobbly scarecrow, which probably helped a lot. 

Am sad though - I loved the Rev.  He's the only one who has provided me with Actual Rofl Lolz this year.  However, donning a marching band uniform and a Boris wig (albeit combed) for a Flash Gordon paso just didn’t cut it.  There’s only one man with that hairdo who can leap around like a petulant child and survive intact against the odds whilst everyone stares on in “is this actually happening” disbelief.  Ladies and gentlemen, Her Majesty's Principal Secretary of State for Foreign and Commonwealth Affairs.

And speaking of national disasters, it’s MOVIE WEEK!  Boom boom etc. 

I’ve warmed to theme weeks, but this one can be a bit barrel scrape-y.  Toy Story, for example, is not a good theme for a quickstep, so I wasn't surprised to see it in the dance off.  It wasn’t helped by Simon Rimmer's Buzz Lightyear make-up.  I appreciate that bold, kohled Kardashian eyebrows are all the Snapchat rage, but this was a toddler wax crayon attack.  We’re talking Crayola caterpillars, unsaved by purple face paint, and a pubic curl Sharpie flourish on his chin.  Nothankyou - as my toddler says when I ask him to do something entirely reasonable, like brush his teeth or put his shoes on.  At least he's learning to use politeness within his rebellions.

I was a bit nothankyou about Gemma and Aljaz’s Jungle Book charleston – a dance you’d think can be manipulated to suit any ker-azy theme, including anthropomorphism.  Perhaps it was just disappointing that Gemma was in a 15 denier catsuit whilst Aljaz’s bear outfit was a shapeless baggy grey onesie with extra belly padding.  Have we learnt nothing from the Blurred Lines shitshow? 

Mind you, from a male objectification POV, we did get to enjoy Jonnie as Indiana Jones, with chesticles ahoy and some rather snug khakis.  And a rope, and a Stetson, and an Oti Mabuse alongside him.  The two of them really are another level gorge.  Sure, it was a bit Peacock bum-shelf-centric, which isn't really standard paso, but Jonnie is likeable and inspiring, so I have high hopes for Team Macock.

It was Susan Calman who bagged the best concept, outfit and CHOON of the night; a Wonder Woman samba.  THE JOY.  I hope Susan isn’t going anywhere soon – she has the Balls-like combination of jokey performances with gritted teeth learning of steps (technically, if not skilfully...yet).  She also has an actual love of Kevin Clifton’s dance embrace, and Kevin's seemingly over the stalker and cats vibe she was giving out at the start, so the chemistry is actually touching now.  I love Susan.  Can you be a national treasure before you hit retirement?  I’m nominating la Calman.

Speaking of retirement, Brendan? Tempted much?  (Anton’s never retiring – I’ve accepted that fact.)   This was just standard go-to yawnsome Brendanography: have them look pretty, I’ll shunt them around the floor, then strop it out when the judges tell me off.  A Top Gun tango, you say?  Or a solid excuse for Brendan to live out his Tom Cruise fantasies/delusions?  At least it meant Charlotte didn't actually have to do any actual dancing, after last week’s cha cha meltdown – instead she got to raise temperatures in a Kelly McGillis blouse, whilst Brendan plopped her on and off a motorbike.

Anton was also in sensual mode (*voms in mouth*).  Not that I remember much about the Ruth and Anton duBond rumba – I’ve clearly blocked it from my mind.  Something about Ruth not wanting to stare into Anton’s eyes and make sexy face, which – hello, I think we all have sympathy there.  Nothankyou.

But it wasn’t all slightly awks sub-par stuff.  Debbie and Aston – you know, the trained dancers – were excellent, with a Ginger Rogers quickstep and Trolls cha cha respectively.  Aston even managed to impress wearing a bermuda short variation of the poo slacks, with turquoise tights and a bright green crochet/felt waistcoat for modesty.   

Mollie wasn’t bad as slutty Maria in slinky evening dress and practical apron – I’m not sure she’s the dancer we might have expected her to be, but the lifts in her Sound of Music American Smooth were pretty great.  And if you ever wondered what Captain Von Trapp looked like in the Austrian cadet force, look up the child AJ in his military evening jacket and wonder no more.

And at least those concepts made some kind of sense.  A few even actively worked –  mostly Joe’s Viennese Waltz, working beautifully to Lara’s theme.   *spoilers* though, with that choreography giving the ending to Dr Zhivago away.  I haven’t seen the film, and now I know that the plot is lots of computer-generated snow and a hastily grown man moustache.  We also now have two classic Katya Hat moments – floppy for Virshilas and headmuff for Jones.

Alexanda’s My Fair Lady American Smooth was a lovely match of theme and dance too – and she’s so so so good.  I was initially disappointed that no better pun than “Strictly Covent Market” was found, until I could only think of “Strictly Come-vent Market, and decided to move swiftly on - less BBC prime-time, more niche erotica from the depths of the internet.

Mind you, niche erotica might have been what Davood and Nadiya were going for – that Stayin’ Alive samba was approx 99% pelvic thrusts in tighty whities.  I’ve still no idea whether Davood can dance, his entire characterisation is ‘I may or may not be bright but who cares cause MUSCLES’.

I do quite high hopes for this year – a Debbie, Aston, Alexandra, Jonnie final, perhaps?  Though Joe, or even Mollie and Gemma too, could sneak though.  Especially if there’s a CONTROVERSIAL DANCE OFF (there is always a controversial dance off).  And Susan.  Many more weeks of Susan please.  There’s at least five or six of them I hope she takes out.

BTW, have I blogged yet about how much I love Shirley as a judge?  (No, because PARENTHOOD.)  Guys, I LOVE Shirley! (As a judge mind, I’ve this teeny fear she might be Brexit IRL.) Her launch show dance cameo was an amazing glimpse into how she can totes really dance, and she has excellent spectacles on tip of nose game.  But more than that (I know! As if the specs placement wasn’t enough!), she’s really good at pithy constructive criticism, knows and highlights the dance steps she’s seeing without being eye-rollingly smug and – favourite fact - she’s already managed to completely wind Brendan AND Piers Moron up.  Even the forums mostly rate her, which is saying something, as they can find fault in anything – even Tess’ outfits, can you believe it...

On that note, TessTess’ pinspins were on show on Sunday - those orthopaedic tights aren’t going to sell themselves - and, shockity horror, I think she’s been looking fairly acceptable all series, so far.  Emphasis on the “so far”, of course, and it’s not like I lurved the flesh denier topped gold streamer number she had on Saturday – on brand though, evoking the lady tight. 

Sure, Claudia’s as orange, fringey and let’s say ‘eccentrically ‘dressed as ever, but she remains Claudia, doer of no wrong, so you crack on, Claude.  Darcey had an interesting (iffy) take on the lady tuxedo on Sunday, but it’s clear the purpose was to out-pin Tess with the slittiest high slits on her dress-culottes; maybe the hosiery contract isn’t going as well as hoped and Darcey has spotted an opportunity.  

I long to bitch about the man fashion too, you know, but there’s little cattiness to be mined from ‘will it be a black or white dinner jacket tonight’?

Oh it’s good to be back!  Typing as I am on my iPhone on my Southern Rail commute – nothing like having that quality me-time, eh?  Who knows how much I’ll get blogged this year (course with Southern Rail’s record, the chances are high that the blogs will be long).   But hooray for interminable Strictly chit chat.  If I don't reappear, just blame the two year old.  But be in no doubt - I’ll keeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep watching. 

2016 Strictly Launch Show

Well.  WELL.  Wasn’t that something?  We're back with a bang, I think, after a few years in the meh-derness.   Talent-wise, it's probably the least-duffer-filled line-up we've ever seen (they are all the dirty ringah, hooray!), but it’s still the Ed Balls’ pout’n’thrust vine that burned itself into our eyeballs.  My my... 

Anyway, let’s take it back to the top.  (Yes, I’m afraid we do have to.)

Launch dance

The theme brainstorm obviously didn’t go further than some basic word association, did it? “Launch... Pad?... Launchpad?  Space?... Space!  Sold!”  Yup, the producers somehow thought it appropriate to open with a Strictly Star Wars theme – you didn’t dream it, it did happen.  I’d like to say that hot rocket mess was saved by a Winkleman fringe gag and some homoerotic spacesuit hugging from Anton and Brendan, but I don’t think it was, really.  Poor Anton and Brendan – already so old and so tired, but they must fight on for one more series in the hope they’ll get to replace Len next year.  (Even though anyfewlkno it should be Karen Hardy, who didn’t jive in hooker wedges on the It Takes Two sofa whilst smothered in glitter and pregnancy for no reason, OH NO.)

What else did we learn from 2016 A Dance Odyssey?

1. Strictly’s not above throwing in a Gangnam Style reference several years too late (has the copyright waned?) or a Uranus joke (#approve).

2. Silver lamé, much like its gold cousin, takes a special kind of MC Hammer-style panache to pull off – and if lithe professional dancers are struggling, then perhaps it’s an unwise choice.  (On the subject of unwise fashion choices... but we’ll come to Louise’s dress later.) 

3. The budget went on slutty Barbarella roman sandals and a cardboard rocket which shat the celebrities out. 

4. Never again.  Let’s keep the cosmos away from ballroom dancing, ok.  Anyone who thinks Space Week is good idea should keep very quiet please. Kthanks.

So we've had our shoddy cut to the studio, Claudia's hobbled on and squinted adorably, the judges have been welcomed and Craig's been mocked, clearly there's only one thing left to do...

It’s time to meet the STARS of our SHOWWWWW.

(I will not buy into “our Strictly Stars”. I will not.)

Overview:

FIT. 

TAUT. 

GOOD AT DANCING. 

Also, Ed Balls.

Now let’s make them walk down some stairs, and see with whom they are doomed to showmance.

“TV presenter and singer, Louise Redknapp”

What was the shape of that dress, though?  Art deco lampshade?  There’s no excuse to drape baggy lilac spangles about her person like that - shame on you Wardrobe.  Is it because your boyfriend still harbours a nineteen year old crush on the Naked video? (Oooooh hypnotised etc")  Look, none of us can fight the special place Louise will always have in the FHM reader’s heart.  Did I say heart?  I meant penis.

Paired with: Kevin “three finals no trophy” Clifton – about to make it four for four, I’d say; these two will be bland and blander, apart from when he wears glasses, and with nothing offensive to offer the British public, they are bound to go far. 

“BBC Sports presenter, Ore Oduba”

Rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.

Rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.

Rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.

Etc.

Quite handsome, isn't he?

Paired with: World Champion Ballroom Dancer and Regular User of the Phrase 'Eee By Gum', it’s Joanne Clifton.  

“Actress, Lesley Joseph”

In Year 8 maths, and on more than one occasion, fellow pupil James Kingston told me that I reminded him of Dorian from Birds of a Feather – yes, the older Chingford Jewess obsessed with openly perving over gardeners and handymen.  Seeing as my school profile was essentially swotty Straight A “keener”/daughter of the head of French, I’m not quite sure why James made that connection, but there you go.  On some level, it still disturbs me, if I’m honest...  Perhaps he thought that I too would look simply incredible at 70 years old.  Damn Lesley!  She looks amazing.

Paired with: du Beke, obviously.  It’ll be interesting to see how many lithe young things they take out with the weight of the Anton fanbase behind them.

“Star of Judge Rinder, Robert Rinder”

Do I need to disclaim that I have a sort of personal connection to the good Judge, with whom I have, on occasion, partay-ed (he’s a good friend of good friends, who always remembered me not at all but charmingly pretended he really did, before throwing about some “you’re fabulous”-es and being hilare.  Yes, he really is like that IRL).  Anyway, I can assure you I’ll try to keep my bias in check (like I did when Fiona Fullerton followed me on Twitter and I felt I had to be nice about Anton), but ultimately I can’t help but be Team Rinder.  I genuinely think he’ll be marvellous - abdominals, barbs and exaggerated dance gurn are a foolproof Strictly combination, so very good, do carry on Rob.  And I’ll regularly keep WhatsApp-ing the dancing lady emoji to our mutual friends as a marker of my continued excitement.

Paired with: The New Ola/Kristina, Oksana Platero.  Yes, they quite brilliantly gave the Sexy Foreign Blonde-shell Beloved By Dadz to a married man married to another man.  Also quite brilliantly, they made her shout at Rob in Russian, which could be a touch politically dubious or could be totes fine, depending on where she’s from in Ukraine or something – as you can see, I’m au fait with the current International Relations sitch because Eurovision.

“Olympic Gymnast, Claudia Fragapane”

So that’s Cloud-iah, not Claw-diah.  Maybe I’ll just call them Fragas and Winkles...  Anyway Claudia (Cloud-iah) is teeny and bendy and proper Brizzle, which bodes gert-lush-ingly well.

Paired with: the new child dancer, the boy AJ.  Honestly, he’s barely through puberty - so tiny young.  Claudia (Claw-diah) spoke for the nation when she asked if his school had given him permission to attend the recording.  He seriously looks 12 at most.  And also, very oddly, like a very handsome Beavis (of and Butthead fame).  You might think that an impossible oxymoron, but Tom Higgleston manages to be both attractive and look like Gollum, so anything is possible.

“TV presenter and radio DJ, Melvin Odoom”

One of the Limerick O’dooms? (Boom (o)boom.)  I hadn’t heard of Melvin before, but I love him already – few men would feel so immediately relaxed in a jewel-encrusted shirt with a nun’s collar.

Paired with: ¡Manrara!  My hopes are SO HIGH.  Now please excuse me whilst I go watch the Macarena again.  Wood woz robbed. 

“Model Daisy Lowe”

She seems utterly delightful and not the vacuous nightmare I might have expected from the extremely limited knowledge I had of her public profile.  She’s clearly a consummate professional - they made her wear unsupportive chiffon lederhosen and scarlet over-mirkin, but she smiled her way down those stairs like she was clad in Yves Saint Laurent.

Paired with:  Aljaz.  All the swoons.

“Actor and popstar Will Young”

Love Will.  I was hoping he’d end up a coach on The Voice, but this works waaaaay better.

Paired with: Karen Clifton, going beyond the Rhianoff thigh clamp and offering full dance limpet – welded on to face AND body.  Sure it was OTT embarrassing, but she’d literally made it out of the last two for Balls unscathed, so her relief is understandable.

“From BBC Breakfast, Naga Munchetty”

Naga (married name Haggar – say it in full. I know, AMAZING) was a bit lost in the masses - but this could benefit her, as it means she can provide *dramatic pause*... The Journey.  And she had the best dress, which counts for a lot, no question.  Scarlet halterneck HELLO.

Paired with: DING DING DING Pashpot.

“World champion long jumper, Greg Rutherford”

Important proclamation: I think Greg is going to be bad at dancing and I think he’s going to completely hate being bad at dancing and I think we’re going to dislike him quite a bit because of it.  And I don’t want to dislike an Olympian!  But this is a man disappointed to get a bronze in Rio, and I get the circumstances, but still - if he didn’t like that, imagine how he’s going to feel when he loses to Tameka in the dance-off whilst Anton *literally* dragging Lesley around in a rumba-hold makes it through unscathed to Blackpool.

 

Paired with: Obviously the producers know the WANT-TO-WIN beast can’t be tamed, which is why they’ve paired him with Natalie Lowe – it’s been years since we saw her dead-eyed Natbot uber-Australian competitive side (ah, those Ricky Nipple days) - a side which made us all utterly hate her... I don't think she's going to be able to resist, my friends.  Mark my words of doom – the forums are about to go full anti-Nat carnage.

“Eastenders star, Tameka Empson”

Who knew there was a right side of foghorn annoying – Tameka's going to be GOOD.  Cracking signing.  

Paired with: New Spanish sausage Gorka, who is muy scorchio, isn’t he?  Hola amigo.  He also seems game for the dance ability slash comedy chops that I suspect Tameka will provide.  It’s all rather fantastico.

“Former Shadow Chancellor, Ed Balls”

If Portillo can reinvent himself by squishing on to a tiny sofa with Diane Abbott and promoting the non-heroin type of trainspotting, Balls might as well try spinning a Russian dancer around the place and attempting a spot of cape wafting.  (Portillo would have been a good signing though, wouldn’t he...)  It’s rough, as Ed’s clearly the weakest link, and has pretty limited popularity to fall back on, but I’d like to see him last a few weeks and do what he can to stop inevitable decades of Tory rule through the medium of dance.

Paired with: Russian newbie, Katya – she’s the one with the Croydon facelift topknot, who's the wife of the new ginge pro who didn’t get a sleb.  With me so far?  Basically, she’s not to be confused with the other Soviet newbie Oksana, who – please see above.

“Reece Witherspoon lookalike, Laura Whitmore”

I mean, “TV host, Laura Whitmore”.  But come on – they have exactly the same face.

Paired with: Cut-price Vinthent, Giovanni Pernice, which is preeeeeetty callous of the Strictly powers that be, given that Gio's just dumped Laura’s mate Georgia May; all a bit hastag awks, frankly...  Laura is basically going to have to use every ounce of Irish charm to negotiate the minefield that is ‘having sufficient chemistry with partner’ whilst ‘avoiding a showmance in the name of girl code’.  Mind you, I’m still struggling to fully invest in Giovanni’s rampant heterosexuality.  What’s the girl code on her outing him to himself in the name of beautiful self-discovery?  Hang on... wasn’t that a Made In Chelsea storyline?

“Actor Danny Mac”

I don’t think he’s real; I think the Hollyoak producers made him in Grow Your Own Teen Soap Hotties laboratory.

Paired with: Oti, which makes them a coupling so beautiful our human eyes might not actually be able to take it.

“And finally, singer Anastacia”

Little is more fun than trying out an Anastacia impression, is it?  My go-to song is “my love is olalalala, my love is olalalala, something something, sick and TIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIRED of always feeling sick and tired, left outside Aliona, left outside Aliona, I’M OUTTA LOVE SET ME FREEEE”, which I’m certain is the right lyrics in the right order.

Paired with: Anastacia seems rather aces and hilarious – so what better outcome than to have elderly grouchbag Brendan drag her down.  Hurrumph. But enough of such negativity!  Surely this must be Cole’s swansong series?  Surely!  (Please!)  And he has got a former MTV dancer on his hands.  Maybe that will put a swing in his jive.  I get it though, Brendan, I too get creaky when I stand up these days.

And there we have it.  Who am I calling on Winnersville?  It's almost impossible to say.  Danny and Oti?  Will and Karen?  Cloudier and the Boy Child?  I have no idea whatsoever.  Am really looking forward to finding out.

Oh, did you think we were done?  Hahahaha - nope.  We can't heartlessly fast-forward through the extras.  It's not the X-Factor, darlings.

Pro-dance: CONGA!

Readers, I love a conga.  I bloody, properly, absolutely LOVE a conga.  I’ll battle through crowds and manhandle dancers to get in one, and I’m sad if I haven’t partaken in recent memory (thanks Secret Cinema, June 2016).  So whilst I was slightly disappointed that we didn’t get an actual conga during Gloria Estefan’s Conga, I was immediately thrown into a good mood when Dave Arch's Wonderful Orchestra went full Miami Sound Machine.  It was all just an excuse to reassure the viewing public that Ola might've left, but the remaining professional dancers have, like, rilly impressive titles to their name (“19 time Slovenian champion Aljaz Skorjanek”).  Joanne is an ACTUAL World Champion.  It was all the more special, as Tess somehow SOMEHOW managed to successfully introduce each pro in the gaps in the music. Poor Janette doesn’t seem to have won any ballroom dancing competitions, but she made up for it by being the standout dancer to be hurled about.  The new pros seem ok.  There’s a ginger one these days – Strictly diversity.

Other Entz

Some X-Factor singers sang.  One of them was dressed in a blackout curtain, silver-encrusted mildew and Angelina Jolie leg, and the other was that man who looks like a jovial potato with a slight weight problem, even though he is very slim.

Final group dance

Sweet jay-sus, an actual good group dance – this tells you all you need to know about the calibre of contestant.  They knew their cues, no-one seemed to forget the dance routine, and everyone was tits and teeth-ready.  Even Ed was ok – just a bit of a shirehorse surrounded by gleaming tried and tested thoroughbreds.  It’s truly going to be a vintage year, I hope.  And my baby is now old enough that I think (I *think*) I might be able to document proceedings.

Whoo hoo!  See you in late September, dance fans.  Prepare to make some very tough phone-voting choices.

And the meantime, same old drill.  Giddy up and keeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeetc.

2015 - Week 6

No longer a star of our show: Frankly, Kirsty's charleston was a total plank of a dance. 'Kudos' to Brendan for managing shunt and drag even during a non-ballroom number. Surely it's time for Mr Cole to retire?

Bottom Two: I didn't see much of Jamelia's jive as it turns out that my baby finds me singing and dancing the Time Warp simply HILARIOUS, so that's what I spent those 90 seconds doing. And for whoever danced after her. And after that. Etc. 

The good: Or, to put it another way, who did wardrobe hate most? (Natalie aside - more on that story later, viewers.) Helen looked like she been papier-mâchéd in loo roll, Kellie proved that 'Sexy Harry Potter' is as appealing a fancy dress concept as 'Sexy Where's Wally', and even Gleb (or 'Glen' as my autocorrect would have it 😂) is officially not handsome enough to rock a greased down nearly-mullet. (Though it turns out waltzes are improved by flying, lady horns and dramatic death scenes.)

The bad: Lovely Carol is still there, which means her level of popularity is so high, she could surely stand for election on a Sell The NHS To Fund PlayStations For Immigrant Terrorists ticket and become PM. What else can explain that utterly terrible rumba getting through? The power of loveliness surely cannot suffice? (Actually, there was a nod to another possible reason for Carol's popularity on her costume - Wardrobe had sewn a glitter skeleton hand on her boob. Many a older gentleman's thoughts visualised, right there.) 

You're my favourite: Jeremy! Jeremy! Jeremy! What a performance! Thriller night, indeed. He knows his steps and performs them with enthused relish. Yes, he looks ridiculous, but he also looks MAGNIFICENT!

Tessdressmess: Sexy side Spanx. 

Darcey Brussells as Morticia set a few (Mr Cad's) hearts racing. 

Pro-dance: If you're going to do a chess concept, it is a TRAVESTY that it's not danced to I Know Him So Well. Two of the worst dances I have ever seen, I think - and I hate to repeat James Jordan, but it does seem odd to use trained ballroom dancers in a contemporary number (Anton does modern - ROFLMFAO). And there was no need to dress Natalie in low quality drag - though it must have taken some doing to make her seem so manly. 

The big question: What *did* they promise Nancy to secure that appearance?

Next week: Jamelia's public declaration that she "knows the British public don't like me" should keep her firmly in the bottom two. I just hope it's Lovely Carol that joins her, else the Lovely tag will, through no fault of Lovely Carol's own, start to be in jeopardy. Keeeeeeeeeeeeeeep!

2015 - Week 5

Five thoughts:

1. Ainsley has left us too soon. He was far more fun to watch than Carol, Kirsty, Jamelia and Jeremy-on-a-ballroom-week. 

2. Anton needs to be banned from teaching or choreographing Latin. What a shambles. Get Ian Waite in! Job-shares are a progressive move, anyway. Anton would enjoy the time off to sup tea with Widde and go tie shopping. 

3. Jeremy must do Latin dances only. I AM SERIOUS PEOPLE. It will be a travesty if we are not treated to some paso cape-work and rumba hip action before he goes. 

4. Yes, Kirsty was better, but still massively overmarked. Has she signed up for the tour...? *innocent face*

5. New lows were reached with that synchronised-swimming pro-routine. I

know charlestons are supposed to be goofy, but the beachballography was especially shoddy. Watching ballroom world champion Joanne Clifton - who was employed, let us not forget, solely for the pro-dances - gurn and roll on an inflated ball seemed a bit of a waste.

6. Yes, this a sixth thought but how could I forget?!!!!!! 

"BULL'S BOLLOCKS!"

*cries laughter*

7. (Seven thoughts, it's fine.) After an underwhelming weekend, which was uninspiring to blog (the main concern, let's face it), I find myself in the unusual position of looking forward to Halloween week. Not only have I embraced Halloween this year, to the extent that I will be dressing my baby as a glow-in-the-dark skeleton, but I also know there'll be something to mock. Keeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep.

2015 - Week 4

No longer a star of our show: Wee Daniel - the pipes, the pipes, have called Danny Boy away, a little too soon for my liking. He fell between two (Westlife?) stools; his airline pilot-themed American Smooth was neither stage-school amazing nor pant-wettingly hilarious (Jeremy, yo!), but I was really enjoying his gentle improvement and gentle schtick: no-one else has ever managed to banter with Tess successfully. At least Kristina's dance sensuality and cleavage can finally be unzipped for the pro-numbers. Demure no more! Let La Rihanoff return without fear of tabloid take-down!

Dance off survivor: Kirsty's paso was the same as her other dances. She looked beautiful but her dancing was lacking something and Brendan had to shunt her around too much and blah blah I'm just going to copy and paste that now ready for next week.

Top of the leaderboard: ANTON DU WHAAAA?!?! Anton du Best - and it only took thirteen years. Katie was amazing and gorgeous, even if Wardrobe had seen fit to stick her in a high denier flesh bodystocking and shoot sequins at her boobs.  

Wardrobe's most hated: The guns (glue and staple, not muscular) were out in force; Giovanni's preposterous feather-lined nipple-grazing waistcoat and Janette's golden dandruff fringing got the brunt of it. Mind you, I remember little else of Pandre's tango and Georgia's quickstep (use of S-Club aside). 

Silky shirt-off: And indeed, shirts off and nips ahoy. Gleb (in the silky samba sky-blue corner) and Aljaž (in the silky salsa scarlet corner) both did some pec flashing for the laydeez and gaydeez - but who was better? Aljaž, of course, with his dressing up box making yet another welcome appearance. (Dr Skorjanec will see you now, if he's not too exhausted from his night shift and protesting Jeremy C... I mean, Hunt's latest measures). Elsewhere in paso land, we got 'treated' to a Robin disco vest on Brendan (oh Brendan, not without the protein shakes, dear), whilst Pasha dared a more season-appropriate polo neck. 

Straight up: Finally a dance to suit the twerky bum thrusting that Tristan likes to choreograph for Jamelia. I also very much enjoyed the Paula Abdul appearance - dressed as an unhinged WASP in foulard and yappy dog, throwing some passive-aggressive shade with the line "the strong and confident woman I hear you are, Jamelia." (Blatant code for 'bitches be sayin' you're a forthright cow, J'.). As much as I enjoy a ragtime pop cover, I do think Paula's Straight Up original is better and it further highlighted a personal regret that Opposites Attract has yet to make a Strictly appearance; I can see it fitting a cracking samba and I'm sure Lance the Singer could do a fine MC Skat Kat for Dave Arch.

Zzzzzzzzzz: Ironically, Kellie and Kevin's very competent foxtrot could have done with some lashings of Camembert to perk it up, whilst Ainsley and Natalie's waltz could have benefitted from can't-remember-the-routine improvised bumography. 

You're my favourite: YAY JEREMY! Splish splash, he was taking a bath, dressed in the most horrific turquoise vomit motif. Those long gangly limbs weren't made for jiving but who cares?!! It was joyfully hilarious. He'd better be the last duffer to go, British Public, else I'll shake my fist at you.

Hair-watch: Jay is actually very handsome, perhaps, even with that permed bouffe - or such is the power of fantastic dance that I've been blinded by his talent after last week. Why Aliona didn't keep the Uma black bob is beyond me; manchego-coloured hair is not a good look when it blends so perfectly into the same shade of fake tan. Tess Daly had the best hair of the weekend with that beehive though. Amaze.

Tessdressmess: Indeed Sunday's TessesTresses were good enough for us to gloss over Saturday's Angelina Jolie leg gothic number. Mr Cad will be disappointed to have missed Darcey Brussells' spray-on dress. 

Eighties pro dance: Where the styling was Bit Part Vampires Of Buffy... Unlike Buffy, the dance was crap - though I chuckled to see Anton and Brendan reduced to jukebox and cocktailography. 

Special guest killing time between dramatic reveal bits: I couldn't tell if Will Young's dancing was trying to be piss-rippy or serious. He dropped Aliona with convicted gusto (serious dancing) then did a move where he stood with his legs spread and wiggled from hip to hip (piss-rippy). Either way, Will for Strictly 2016!

Next week: Lovely Carol wasn't naturally suited to the paso, but sticking her in an M&S brassiere and banning smiling helped. Surely she's on for the dance-off soon though. Surely!?!?