Sequins and Fake Tan- Strictly Come Dancing on tour
I make no great secret of the fact that I j’adore Strictly. Keep yer X Factor, keep that chair a-swiveling round on The Voice and Dancing on Ice can slide right offa my screen- Strictly is where it’s at. I truly believe that I’m a gay man trapped in a woman’s body, which may be why the sheer FABULOUSNESS (it’s a word) of Strictly gives me goosebumps and minge twinges. THE SEQUINS. THE GLITTER. THE TORSOS. THE FAKE TANS. It’s just all too great.
So imAGine how unbearably excited I was to troll down to the O2 for the last day of the Strictly tour today. Given that when I dance I look like the snapchat ghost crossed with a slug in salt the idea of watching the likes of Artem, Aljaz and Iveta prance about with their attached celebrities was too excitement inducing. I was this excited:
The O2 is obviously huge, and hey, if you ever need somewhere where every single corporate chain restaurant and bar are handily located in one place, this is the destination for you.
The show itself was just an unashamed delight. It kicked off with the Strictly singers (who, by the way, have absolutely insane voices) all dressed in different hues of pink, belting out the Pointer Sisters classic ‘I’m So Excited’ whilst gesturing to a disco ball the size of Jupiter as it made a slow ascent to the ceiling. Just in case we were about to miss it.
After that everything passed by in a whirlwind of the following elements:
- Panto style boos, hisses and cheers
- Len Goodman saying ‘SEVENNNNNN’ at every opportunity
- Mark Benton wearing a gold shirt and being told he looked like a Ferrero Rocher on legs
- A lot of male nipple
- Not knowing who to vote for so spending three quid getting over excited and voting for everyone
- Ben Cohen taking his top off (everything went a little bit wibbly for a few minutes when that happened to be fair)
- Craig Revel-Horwoods phenomenal sarcastic eyebrow
- Bruno Tonioli pretty much spaffing all over the judging table at Ben Cohen and again at Abby Clancy’s Quickstep
- Lisa Riley being a massive babe
- The nan next to me who kept leaping out of her seat to give everything a standing ovation. She was like a bloomin’ geriatric jack-in-a-box, or a GERIAC-IN-A-BOX if you will.
I loved it because it was unapologetically cheesy and camper than if the cast of The Wizard of Oz went for a weekend sleeping in a soggy tent in a field in Skegness. LONG LIVE STRICTLY. Next year I’ll be on the front row, so close I can smell the hairspray and see the fake tan streaks. Should probably restrain myself from shouting ‘TAKE YOUR TOP OFF’ to all the male dancers in that instance. It will be a strain.
I can’t wait until I’m famous purely so I can go on Strictly. That and Saturday Kitchen.
KEEP DANCING FOLKS!
p.s apologies for the bad quality snaps- I am a massive bellend and forgot to stick a memory card in my camera. BLOODY HELL BRENNANNNNNNNN