Raise your hands to heaven

Sometimes people do weird things for very good reasons.  Or rather, sometimes people do embarrassing things for non-embarrassing reasons.  One example might be watching the music video for Breathe’s ‘Hands to Heaven’ three times in a row because there’s this girl in the video, dancing a solo behind the specter of David Glasper and wearing the most delicious pink frippery of a dress that ever was.

Of course, she’s got a wind machine and that certainly helps.

Reminds me of some of the dresses Donna Karan did in the mid-nineties.  Those flowing, tie-dyed dancer dresses.

You know, those jersey and chiffon dresses on bare-faced girls with messy hair and visible nipples.

There are too many people out there to attest to my lack of grace.  I shan’t say that, growing up, I always wanted to be a dancer.  I was what I was supposed to be- a middling centre midfielder, a hobby sketcher, a bit of fun.  There is something about a dancer’s wardrobe though that I have always envied.  Bodysuits, wraparound sweaters and tights are a more attractive combination, I think, than jerseys, knee socks and cleats.  Lets say that I always wished I had an excuse to be surrounded by an aura of georgette.

That’s why I’m watching the video for Breathe’s ‘Hands to Heaven.’  Now all I have to do is think up an excuse for listening to Steve Winwood’s ‘Higher Love’ while I did the dishes.  Is Chaka Khan a good enough excuse?