My vintage French evening shoes.
The entire world seems to be dancing this week. But not I. You see, I can't dance. When I was a girl, my parents sent me to all the best dance schools, only to learn the bad news: I can't dance. It's not that I don't like dancing. I love those old dance movies with Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers; with Gene Kelly or Cyd Charisse. Attempts to teach me to dance are like sending your kid off to classes to learn to fly, sans aircraft. In fact your kid might learn to fly before I could learn to dance.
Before we were married, Tall Husband knew all my secrets, except the dancing thing. He knew about the previous two husbands; my fear of heights; the Argentinian soccer player; that I had been an FBI informant; that I slept with a gun under the bed. He just didn't know that I could not dance. So naturally, I was worried about dropping that bomb on him.
One day I was mentally rehearsing telling him when he said, "Annie, there is something I've got to tell you: I don't dance." My stunned look caused him to continue, "And don't think that I can learn. It just isn't going to happen."
I grabbed him and hugged him and confessed about my two left feet. For a moment there, we both thought we could dance, out of sheer happiness.
A happy note: Much later, I saw a television interview with the actor, writer and director, Billy Bob Thornton. The person interviewing him said something like, "I guess you did a lot of parties and dancing at the Cannes film festival."
"I just don't get dancing," was Mr. Thornton's quite serious response. So that's when I got Billy Bob. There is something seriously sexy about a man who won't dance.
1/22/09 Update: Bernie at his blog "Walking in Stillness" wrote an interesting verse "High Heals."
Before we were married, Tall Husband knew all my secrets, except the dancing thing. He knew about the previous two husbands; my fear of heights; the Argentinian soccer player; that I had been an FBI informant; that I slept with a gun under the bed. He just didn't know that I could not dance. So naturally, I was worried about dropping that bomb on him.
One day I was mentally rehearsing telling him when he said, "Annie, there is something I've got to tell you: I don't dance." My stunned look caused him to continue, "And don't think that I can learn. It just isn't going to happen."
I grabbed him and hugged him and confessed about my two left feet. For a moment there, we both thought we could dance, out of sheer happiness.
A happy note: Much later, I saw a television interview with the actor, writer and director, Billy Bob Thornton. The person interviewing him said something like, "I guess you did a lot of parties and dancing at the Cannes film festival."
"I just don't get dancing," was Mr. Thornton's quite serious response. So that's when I got Billy Bob. There is something seriously sexy about a man who won't dance.
1/22/09 Update: Bernie at his blog "Walking in Stillness" wrote an interesting verse "High Heals."
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You could wear those shoes if you knew you'd be sitting down 99% of the time - they're lovely - about 6 inches, I'd imagine....
ReplyDeleteYou are not alone here. I can't dance either,and I really don't mind at all. I love watching other people do it, but with the lack of wanting to and a bad hip, it is a no go for me. My husband isn't a dancer either,so it makes it easy that way. Love the shoes though :)
ReplyDeleteI COVET those shoes. Beyond amazing! (They wouldn't happen to be size 7 and want to come to Georgia would they?)
ReplyDeleteHi Texas Marie,
ReplyDeleteYou are so right about the shoes-that's why they are still in good condition.
Hi Elizabeth,
Glad to hear that not every couple in the world dances. And thanks for the shoe compliment!
Hi Tara,
I'm so pleased that you like the shoes but they are too large for you. They are size 8.
Thanks for dropping by,
Annie