In Hollywood you are only as young as your last visit to the plastic surgeon. On Planet Gorgeous age is not an issue. We function in a blissful state of Deterioration Denial. Our brains still tell us that we are youthful sprites, until our bodies bitch-slap us back to reality…
Then I choreographed a music video.
When the dancers arrived for the rehearsal I realised that they were all Hip Hop and Breakdancers. Hip Hop I can do. No problem. But the last time I attempted any form of Breakdancing was when I was in my… in my… uhm…younger. I know the Breakdance terminology and can instruct a dancer to do an Airbaby, Pike, Flare or a Rollback Handstand, but to physically do that…at my age…
My dancers were talented and energetic and executed my choreography brilliantly, but on one phrase I wanted two of the male dancers to do a combination of specific Breakdancing tricks. I explained to them what I wanted, but they just could not get it right and I realised that I had to demonstrate the bloody moves. I braced myself and thought “What the hell!” and did it, but coming out of a Kick-up and going into a Flick-flack, I realised – in mid-air – as I heard a ‘click’ somewhere in my lower body and saw stars (for a split second I did see Brad Pitt and George Clooney, but that was wishful thinking.), that I was just being stupid. I have to stop choreographing in heels!
While attempting to regain my sight and consciousness and trying to locate the position of my legs, I disregarded this physical malfunction and carried on working. I’m a pro. The show must go on. Okay, I did limp a bit, but worked it into the choreography and took out the frustration of my pain by shouting obscenities at the production crew. Everybody usually shouts obscenities at crew, so it all seemed normal.
But after the rehearsal, as I stumbled out of the car and dragged my injured body towards the guest house I was staying in for the duration of the shoot, I realised:
1. that the brain and the body are enemies (They lie to each other.)
2. that I am only as young as my knees;
3. that middle-age is when anything new you feel is most likely to be a symptom;
4. that physical exercise does add years to your life. I felt ten years older;
5. that a slight limp actually looks sexy when you are wearing stilettos;
So, in conclusion: I am going to continue being in denial about my age. And after careful consideration (while reapplying an ice pack to my knee), I decided that I will continue choreographing in heels, because they make my legs look pretty.
