Her

Dance In Yo Undies

Dance in yo undies (no sexual innuendo intended)

Life is hectic, full of obstacles and sometimes pretty disenchanting. It can be easy to get into a bit of a funk, get comfortable in it and not be able to find the way out before cynicism starts growing on you like mould.
I could go into the whole glass is half full or half empty analogy here but it’s really besides the point. The truth is, some people bounce back from disappointment effortlessly, and for others it’s a little harder.
Despite which category of ‘bounce back’ ability you fall into it’s always a good idea to have some serious ‘go-to’ stress relievers up your sleeve for those moments where being rational isn’t really an option. I used to resort to gin or oddly enough, banana chips but eventually you become wise enough to realise that abusing your body doesn’t really give you any genuine emotional relief.
For most women, communication is the obvious key to unravelling every single problem in the world. Usually via text messages the length of essays.
But as the notoriously charming Lord Byron warned us,

“That which nourishes us, also destroys us”.

In this case, the Lord had a point and the overkill on wordery that women commonly resort to is enough to make anyone turn to drink.
When words no longer cut it, move on, choose to a practical and physical solution to help you get over your hump.
My default stress relievers are either boxing or jumping into a really deep lake and screaming as loud as possible. Beware of an imminent sore throat though.
The other one that is unlimited by location, situation or accessibility is my secret weapon. Secret for an abundance of reasons.
Dancing in my undies.
Yes, you read correctly.
When I think about it I cringe, and writing it makes me gag but the reality is, in all its bouncing flabby awkwardness it really works.
We all know that exercise releases endorphins and blah blah blah but sometimes, particularly at times when we are emotionally flustered, exercise is a bit of an unrealistic expectation.
Getting yourself moving with dancing (alone), sober and in the comfort of your own space is a far safer option for everyone at this point in time.

Instructions

1. Remove pants

        – Not the only time I’ve demanded this, but it’s definitely for a better cause than ever before!

2. Put on

        – Your shiniest, sparkliest, brightest underwear. Your good luck knickers, canary yellow Brazilian cut lace thing, or oversized boys boxers. Whatever. It’s your prerogative. Just pick something that makes you feel sassy as hell.

3. Get wild!

        Turn up high energy music. Think guilty pleasure dance or pop songs. Rihanna, Prince, Backstreet Boys, Gossip or Calvin Harris. I used to write music reviews so my inner critic thinks my choices here are atrocious but who cares! When it comes down to nudie prancing you’ve gotta go straight for the throat. (Click here for a list of my favourites)

4. DANCE!

        We all know the saying

Dance like nobody is watching.

      So do it! I don’t care how clumsy or silly you feel. Every bum wiggle, twerk, knee jerk, jumping jack, pirouette and bounce clap is doing you the world of good. Repeat this for at least 3 tracks. And don’t stop before you’re sweating. And smiling.

Trust me on this, by the end of those sickly saccharine songs and your DIY Dirty Dancing routine you’ll be all but cured of your hump.

Yours in moves,

JLM

Posted by    |   February 14th, 2016   |   No Comments

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