Growing up in Brooklyn, I was a tomboy without any contact with actual boys. I was the youngest of two girls raised by a single mother. My sister and I both went to an all-girls, ultra-Orthodox Jewish day school and neither of us had any male friends. During summer breaks, I went to an all-girls camp in the Catskills where we played volleyball and basketball in long skirts, though dribbling a basketball ball between your legs with a swath of denim in the way was no easy task. My extracurricular activity of choice was gymnastics, a sport that doesn’t exactly runneth over with boys. Keep reading »
A couple of years ago when I was new to New York and looking for a fun way to shed some of the pounds I’d gained after indulging in some of the city’s thousands of delicious restaurants, I decided to take a friend’s recommendation and give Dance Dance Party Party a try. “It’s a big dork fest,” she said to me, “You’ll love it.” For those who have never heard of DDPP, the name basically says it all. It’s a dance party. But not the kind of dance party you might enjoy in a crowded club on a Saturday night. No, this is more like a dance party you might have with a group of girlfriends in one of your living rooms on a Sunday afternoon after a mimosa-fueled brunch. At DDPP — which has franchises in cities across the States, Canada, and even New Zealand — women (sorry, no boys) — gather in “a dance studio or other room with the lights turned low” for 90 minutes of freestyle shakin’ their groove thang. Each week, a different participant is a guest DJ, whipping up a playlist full of anything from Broadway show tunes to hip-hop and ’80s hits. It’s a sweaty good time and I quickly discovered it beats the hell out of doing lunges and sit-ups at the gym. Keep reading »
Dance craze alert! There’s a new raunchy dance coming out of Brazil called the Surra De Bunda. The general idea is that a guy sits on the ground with his legs outstretched. Yeah, that’s all he does. Then a scantily clad lady dances while he watches her butt. Then she puts her hands on his ankles and her feet on his shoulders and proceeds to buck his face with her butt like a feral donkey. It’s kind of NSFW, unless you work at a strip joint. Don’t get scared! They’re just dancing, kids. This is like every man’s dream come true. If this craze catches on in da club, strippers everywhere are going to be out of work and lap dances will be so last year. Check out Surra De Bunda in action, after the jump … you know, so you can learn how to do it. Or not. [BuzzFeed] Keep reading »
At some point in the recent past in North America, dancing started being considered a non-masculine thing to do. Men in other cultures don’t even question whether they should dance or not. We’ve gotten into the bad habit of not even trying to dance. Women hate that. They grew up loving “Flashdance,” “Dirty Dancing,” “Save the Last Dance,” and “Step Up.” Love for the man who keeps the beat is inherent in women. So, it’s time to drop the attitude and refuse to be a walking American stereotype. Junior high students sit on opposite sides of the dance floor because they’re scared of the opposite sex. You want to wake up in bed with the opposite sex? The first step toward that could be a two-step and spin move. So, here’s why real men dance — and you want to be a real man, don’t you? Read more … Keep reading »
The recently announced cast of “Dancing with the Stars” includes some unlikely picks—um, Buzz Aldrin?—but I doubt any of them trump my boyfriend Michael when it comes to dance floor incompetence. He is clownish and rhythmically challenged, prone to hip-thrusting, butt-bumping, and the occasional fist-pumping.
It’s a wonder I can even publicly admit this, considering my dancing past. A musical theater junkie and eldest daughter of four spotlight-loving girls, I grew up with a very distinct idea of my dream dance partner/boyfriend: He would be suave, strong, and graceful, and oozing with old-fashion charm. Keep reading »
Apparently, school dances have progressed from the days when the girls stood at one side of the gym and the boys stood on the other. Nope, today’s horny little teenagers are freaking and grinding and doing whatever they can at school dances to rub their privates together. How do I know about this problem? Well, I used to be a high school teacher, which meant I was also required to chaperone at least two school dances per year. I taught at an all-girls Catholic school, meaning that freaking was strictly forbidden. The worst part was that as a chaperone I was required to wear a T-shirt that said in big, black block lettering, “NO FREAKING ALLOWED,” and carry a flashlight to shine on teens getting down on the dance floor. This was extremely uncomfortable for me because: A) I’m actually not terribly anti-freaking as long as there is no nudity, harassment, or actual sex; B) I so didn’t want an image of my students getting jiggy on the dance floor burned into my memory; and C) since I looked so young at the time, in the dark most of the boys thought I was a teenage girl attending the dance stag. Once a young dude even grabbed me and started freaking with me when I shined the light on his gyrating pelvis. My female students just stood around chanting my name. Awkward and mortifying.
But it looks like other high schools are cracking down on bumping and grinding, too. And they’re getting pretty creative. Keep reading »