The joys of gyrating on a Saturday night

I was thrilled when I got this column: at last, a chance to ramble on at some length about whatever subject I choose, to anyone on campus actually bored enough to read it! It was like an early Christmas present. However, the euphoria quickly wore off, as I realised that really, I was making a terrible mistake. You see, I have no ‘Significant Other’ about whom I can be smug and mention at every available opportunity. And it’s not as if I can take advantage of my single status to write some Carrie Bradshaw-esque spiel with ‘quirky’ observations about my own and my friends’ love lives. Not only would they undoubtedly shun me (besides, they’re all either as single as I am or in boringly stable relationships), but I don’t believe anyone’s that interested. I’m certainly not. No, what’s far more compelling at the moment than some student’s romantic status is the human drama being played out every Saturday evening on Strictly Come Dancing. It’s got everything you could possibly ask for in televisual entertainment: nostalgia (Bruce Forsyth’s revival of old Generation Game catchphrases really tugs at the heartstrings), more flesh and sequins on show than anyone needs to see, embarrassment (I winced when Colin Jackson started gyrating around insanely a few weeks ago; not only did it look wrong, but it felt slightly inappropriate that it was on before the watershed), and people being given the opportunity to reinvent themselves in some way – Zoë Ball, who I assumed would be the clumsiest of all of them, is a stunningly good dancer. What’s really brilliant about Strictly Come Dancing, though, is the fact that it has a heartthrob with near universal appeal: the lovely James Martin, formerly of Ready Steady Cook fame (not that I’d know, as I’ve never watched it). Forget Shayne from The X Factor, recently championed by Heat magazine as “the sexiest contestant ever”: he’s got nothing on James. Here is a man who can cook, who somehow manages to radiate niceness, and who is comfortingly rubbish at most of the dances. Unfortunately, he’s rumoured to be going out with his dance partner, Camilla. Normally, a bit of romance is nice, but the woman looks about twelve, for heavens’ sake. Ah well. By the time this edition is out, he’ll probably have been kicked off the competition and a nation will have forgotten all about him: how quickly and cruelly the world moves on…

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