It appears that I’m now of an age where I can no longer eat what the hell I like and boast about my super duper metabolism. Nope, now a minute on the lips starts to slide down onto my hips, thereby creating a padded cake shelf, which I could blame on having had four children, but it wasn’t there before the autumnal nights of red wine, chocolate and savoury snacks slipped into my life. So, after a lovely few months of using my cake shelf as a snack table, I’ve finally got around to researching new ways to exercise and suck all my baggy bits back inline. This week I came across a true gem, a form of exercise that I can do whilst sitting down – burlesque chair dance (or armchair aerobics as I’ve been telling my faint hearted family members).
So, on this cold and frosty Monday night, looking far from gawjus in leggings, a vest top, and a woolly cardi, I entered an equally cold and frosty room, where I was quickly warmed by the smile and enthusiasm of my teacher, the gorgeous Autumn Noir, to give refer to her by her burlesque name.
The burlesque chair dance class was a feminine powered, action packed hour, where despite my inability to do a sexy chest roll, I did throw my all into learning new things, and laughed, concentrated, strutted, clicked, shimmied, and slapped my ever expanding butt along the way. Even when I got highly confused by the front and back of the room in my pivots, I felt totally supported and guided by the wonderful Autumn Noir. There really isn’t anything much greater than feeling the encouragement of a fellow female, whilst many criticise or feel threatened by others, this class embraces and encourages a strong female connection, which is a rare and beautiful thing these days.
The class quickly came to an end (not before I had realised how inflexible I am during the warm down) and we even got some homework. Nope, not to practice our moves on our IKEA dining chairs back home inbetween mealtimes and school runs, but to come up with our own burlesque name. It was suggested that we choose an exotic first name we are drawn to, with a French word for the sexy sounding surname. Well, with a love of chocolate and a very limited French vocabulary, I’ve come up with the highly seductive name: Coco Baguette.
I know, sexy, right?!