A couple of weeks ago my eldest daughter, a dancer, talked me into coming to an Army of Sass drop-in class she was assisting with. The Army is all about getting your sexy on, in heels, regardless of your body shape or age or dance ability, or anything else. I’ve been to many of their shows and I adore their focus on feeling great in your own skin and owning your sensuality.
When I say ‘regardless of age’ I might also add that I’m well beyond anything I’ve seen on their stage so the idea was a little intimidating. And I was having flashbacks to some zumba classes in which I was, to put it mildly, the class moron. However, being ever on the lookout for new ways to be a lab rat for my Gumption theories, I said yes. After asking my favourite question – What’s the worst that can happen? – that is. I made friends with embarrassment years ago.
I can’t wear heels anymore because of an arthritic big toe (you might be getting a realistic picture of this situation by now) so I was going in sneakers. One bullet dodged.
Then I saw this video of the previous week’s class:
Good lord. I could practically hear my muscles tear just watching them. Then came the note about bringing a man’s shirt and a tie as, ahem, props for some moves. I had visions of Grizabella trying to play a sex kitten when she should have been singing ‘Memories’. All this resulted in some serious second-guessing, but my desire to make good on my promise to my kid won out.
And I’m so glad it did! All the women were super welcoming and no-one laughed at my beginner effort (Army promotes a very supportive atmosphere). Best of all, it was fun to strut my sexy stuff. That feeling, it never gets old.
They already have a Sassy Moms group…can the Sassy Grannies be far behind?