Hi my name is Marie Gethins and I have an irrational obsession with dance reality shows.
It started with satisfying curiosity—what faded celebrities and sports stars were willing to do for a second bite of that fame apple. First the introductory stills were enough. Oiled and spray tanned in skimpy costumes, I relished the wave of shock, amusement, and a few times, the horror of the vision they created.
Then I moved onto GIFs the morning after each round of competition. Soon I wasted hours reviewing complete dance clips: rumba, jive, quickstep, cha-cha-cha, jazz, samba, waltz.
Before I knew, it was full segments, replaying my favourites. I joined an online chat room and debated scoring minutiae, became on expert on foot placement and leg extension. The season finale brought a crescendo of joy, but the elation was fleeting. The next morning, I felt empty.
I tried going cold turkey.
I fought the desire to view previous seasons on YouTube. The temptation proved too great. I realised the only way I could move forward was to distance myself from online access. I turned to reading. A childhood Hans Christian Andersen book provided comfort and distraction. The Red Shoes brought an epiphany. I had to face this head-on, overcome my obsession through a modern morality tale. And so, Demi Ledoux and her precious sugarloaf stepped into the spotlight. I am renewed!
Did you hear Vanilla Ice is doing the fox trot on DTWS next week?