Walking into the dimly-lit dance studio, the thought vaguely crossed my mind that I should have had that (very) large glass of wine. Here I was, in London’s east end, at the relatively early hour of 7.30pm, about to dance like nobody was watching- all in the name of a new fitness craze that has so far consumed New York, Chicago, Toronto and Vancouver: Dance Dance Party Party. The rules? No boys, no booze, no judgement, no talking, legwarmers optional (why optional? Legwarmers are great). Now, I should confess that I am not averse to a little bit of jumping around- friends will testify that I even once strained my calf muscle dancing to Party Rock Anthem (a song so current, that I’m wondering why I just so freely admitted this). Normally, however, I am in the presence of friends (namely everyone’s good friend wine) before I throw all inhibitions out the window. So, apprehension was the order of the day as a dance studio packed full of sweaty strangers swam into sight- made all the worse as my friend and I were forced to change in the complete dark. Worrying that your clothes are on back-to-front is not a recommended start. As soon as the music started playing, though, the endorphins started flowing. A bizarre twist on clubbing, here women of all ages swap high heels and short hemlines for trainers and workout gear. The tracks are a glorious throwback to the Eighties, and it is hard not to feel elated when all around you complete strangers are freestyle dancing like crazy to the likes of Joan Jett, some (tragically) with their eyes closed. Boys, DDPP's single-sex rule makes a lot of sense- this is definitely every man's worst nightmare. For those ladies who are more shy, the darkness definitely helps, but I promise this is one exercise class that is a genuine laugh, especially if you drag a friend. I might even go again.... A word of warning, though: best to close your eyes when the lights come on at the end, as the scene is likely to be offensively sweaty.
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