My dress was blue, my shoes patent leather shiny red — I was fifteen and ready for my first dancing lesson. The going was tough. I could barely keep my balance on my high heels, but soon the music transported me into a world of swaying, courting, touching .... Whoops! He’d better not come too close and bump against my chest. He might feel the socks in my bra!
I was lucky, I came with a boyfriend although as it turned out he was totally oblivious of the difference between marching and dancing. So I exchanged him for a boy who was an extremely good dancer, and also very conceited. I didn’t particularly like him but I knew I had the best dancer in the room and definitely made the most of it. He insisted I curtsy before we danced the Wiener Waltz in the final dance competition. We won, but that was the first and last time I curtsied before a boy or anybody else.