Big Bellies and Big Pants

I went on a tribal style belly dancing workshop yesterday. I can now undulate like a python and choo choo with alluring hip movements while I float diagonally across a room. That’s the image I had of myself anyway. The reality was I could feel each vertebrae in my upper back grinding away which gave me an expression not so much of inner serenity, but more of grimacing anxiety. The saucy, undulating movements looked more like I was suffering from stomach cramps and the hip flicks made me appear to walk with a bad limp.

It was my first session and I was pleased to spot that even bearing in mind the above I was still better than the tattooed lady who held her arms out like a policeman directing traffic, who had apparently been going for quite a long time. I enjoyed a smug moment. You need to enjoy these at every opportunity because I suspect that as you get older, they get less frequent.

I thought that belly dancing might be a good way to get fitter and slimmer. This seemed unlikely given that the two instructors sported a) plenty of belly to dance with after decades of doing the ‘Egyptian’ and b) bad backs.

To conceal a moment of gasping exhaustion I checked out the stall of harem clothes. There was a lovely looking ‘ashes of roses’ bra top and skirt. On closer inspection I spotted that the top had been sewn onto an M& S bra that looked like it had been worn for quite a while previously and was hoping to enjoy a new lease of life shimmying. It was a bit off-putting. The harem pants were voluminous and quite sheer. You’d need some Bridget Jones pants to ensure your modesty was left intact after doing the ‘Arabic’.

All in all we decided that the beautifully sunny afternoon might have been better spent with an ice cream on the beach, at least it would ensure we kept our bellies in a state of readiness if we wanted to take up the dancing again.