The world has changed. When I was growing up, the only way to learn the newest dance routines was to read teen magazines and follow the foot-diagrams. I kid you not, young people, we traced pictured bootprints with our fingers as we tried to move about in the quiet of our bedrooms.

MTV existed, but those of us who lived without cable or dish, had four channels to choose from – none of which was MTV.

This won’t be a shock to anyone who knows me in real life: I am not a dancer. I admire people who can dance. I love all paintings and photographs of dancers. They make such magical shapes. Not to brag, I can march. Given the right bra, I could jog – if jogging were really required. But I’m no dancer.

That said, my musical taste when I was a yoof-innit-doh, was rather more balladic and soft. I remember rushing round West Wickham, looking for 3D glasses because Take That were going to perform Babe on Top of the Pops in 3D.


3D is still one of the coolest things there is. Unfortunately, when I was in West Wickham in 1993, I couldn’t find any 3D glasses, so I had to make do with my mother’s Audrey Hepburn-style sunglasses. Not quite the same effect, but I looked pretty cool in my living room.