In a quaint old fashioned way summer is the ball season in Greg's home town. I suppose you might say it starts uncontroversially with the graduation balls of the several schools in town for their HSC students. Nothing new in that I hear you say, the big city schools do that too.
The difference is that my experience of the big city events it that they are student only functions. Essentially the students get together for a graduation party. They may or may not include boyfriends/ girlfriends and if like me you went to an all-girls school, you might find them merged with that of the local boys' school, but in the end they are all about the students.
My one was merged with that of the local boys' school and partners weren't allowed. That sort of suited me since I didn't have a boyfriend at the time and it meant I'd at least be able to find dance partners amongst the boys there. I did the whole thing with a new dress and the shared hired limo, but like many of these things my feeling at the end of the night was closer to one of disappointment than excitement; being sober when everyone else is drunk out of their mind will do that to you.
In Greg's town – and I get the impression this is common in the country – the graduation balls are orientated to the students attending with their parents. So you sit in tables of 6, 9 or some other number divisible by three. There's a red carpet arrival for the students where their friends, relos, and the students from the lower grades and other schools all come to watch the students arrive and, in the case of the girls, admire their gowns.
Instead of just boring old limos, the students arrive in all sort of modes of transport, from on horseback and by carriage to – in the case of the daughter of a local well know fruit wholesaler family – on a pallet on a forklift. In short it's a big fun look at me night for the whole town community, not just the year 12 students of that school. I went with Greg to the red carpet entrance of Jenna's ball and found it all quite touching and exciting.
There was another aspect of these Graduation Balls that carried into the other balls held in the town. The night started with a parent/ student waltz, where daughters asked their fathers and sons their mothers for the initial waltz. A bit like for a bridal waltz, this was taken seriously enough that students were given instructions on how to waltz and they were offered to the parents too – although because of the history of the events and the popularity of the other balls, many parents would have already had the skill.
But the really big event was the Anniversary Ball, held on 26th January, Australia's National Holiday. It seems to have been something that's survived the years relatively unscathed; in that it's still attended by a large number of people across a wide age range – including younger people. Even the format is traditional, in that the music caters to the traditional old time ballroom dances; which means that learning to dance is a fairly common thing in the town.
And then a couple of weeks after that there's a "Farewell Fancy Dress Ball" targeted to the university students who are visiting for the holidays and heading back to the big cities to continue or start their studies
I did modern dancing as an activity. I was a reasonably competent dancer but had no training in the ballroom and Latin styles, so when Greg suggested we go to the Anniversary Day Ball I was quite happy to go with him and get some lessons. Greg had been though all this before but was happy to get an update. Still my dancing background made me a sufficiently fast learner that we could have a reasonable evening of it; especially if they played lots of waltzes and jives.
I thought about whether I should just get my father to pick up my graduation ballgown from home on one of his trips to the city to make sure work was under control. I might have thought I looked pretty good in it at the time, but frankly decided it was a bit staid for what I wanted now. Instead I ordered online one that had a halter style top, was nearly backless, deep-veed and close fitting at the front and had a light very floaty silky, satin skirt that complimented the dancing nicely while draping quite sexily over my butt and crutch. It was a very reasonable price (which for me means you read cheap!) and since Greg just about blew out the fly on his pants when I first tried it on for him it was money well spent.
And that's another strange effect Greg has had on me. I've always known the visual power of the female body. I have always been willing to dress attractively and accept the attention that brought. But I seem to have acquired an extra degree of tartiness (to put it at its most pejorative) since I meet Greg. Probably because on the one hand I like the impact of its effect on him while on the other he gives me the sense of security that lets me wear that stuff and he feels secure enough not to be threatened by any outside attention it beings.
I love dancing, so I was surprised just how much I'd been missing out on by not learning the older style dances earlier. I found jiving or rock and rolling was a fantastic way of cutting lose and really letting go on the dance floor. Between the lessons and the additional practice we did at home by the night of the ball we were letting rip at the fastest tempos we could find.
But what really rocked my socks compared to my past experiences were the really traditional ballroom styles; and especially the waltz. I wondered how this sort of dancing was possibly allowed back in the 19th century when I understood it first started and dancing it with Greg was always enough to get me heated up somewhat.
I don't suppose many young people have ever really danced like this; I certainly hadn't before. It's bad enough (or should I say fun enough) that you dance in fully body contact with your partner; my right nipple firmly pushed into his chest somewhere near his left one and stomachs touching. But more than that his right leg spent all of its time between mine; generally brushing on my crutch with every step. To compound matters, you dance with a rise and fall motion; so as you count 1,2,3 you actually dip down a little bit on the counts of 1 and 2 and then rise up on to your toes on the count of three.
