Seduced by the passion

of tango

GH FEBRUARY 2006 www.goodhousekeeping.co.uk

Real lives

35

CONTINUED OVER PAGE

It’s hard to imagine a dance, even one of the most erotic, could become an obsession. But tango has taken over Julie-Anne Cosgrove’s life – it has her in its grip, and she’ll travel 6,000 miles to feel the thrill

Sometimes it seems obscene that a man I barely know is holding me in such an intimate way in a room full of people, the walls lined with onlookers. But that’s how it is with Argentine tango – the man embraces you so that you’re heart to heart. There’s a magic in surrendering to his lead, allowing your body to respond, dancing steps you didn’t even know existed. It casts a spell that keeps drawing me back to Buenos Aires, to the land where tango began.

But it was in Canada, not Argentina, that I fi rst discovered tango, when I was working in Toronto in the early 1990s. A friend invited me to take some group lessons with him. He had bruises where some of the women had fl icked their heels against his shins by accident and I think he was hoping I’d know where to put my feet. The classes were taught by the cast of a touring show from Argentina, and I danced with one of the performers. I never forgot that thrill, although it wasn’t until 10 years later in London that I rediscovered my passion for tango.

Soon I was dancing four or fi ve nights a week at various milongas (tango dance events). After two

years, it was time to make the pilgrimage to Buenos Aires. The whole tango culture sounded so mysteri-ous, and I wanted to experience it for myself. So I took a three-week holiday with two friends, staying in a tango guest house. My friends had been before, so they knew the ropes. We went dancing every night from midnight until 4 or 5am, and I came home ex-hausted, with sore feet and a twitching eye. I had a fantastic time, but I wasn’t yet addicted. All that changed when I returned to London. The more my tango improved with private lessons, the more I yearned to dance with partners who were really good.

So the next year, I returned to Buenos Aires on my own for six weeks, and it was during this trip that I really fell in love with the city and its tango. I began hatching a plan to spend a year in the city. Two of my tango friends were living there – we’d all been students of the same teacher in London – and they were a bad infl uence! I thought, if they can live here, why can’t I? They suggested I let my return ticket go, and simply stay on, but I had plans to make – mainly re-mortgaging my fl at. Even though it’s quite cheap for Europeans to live in Argentina, I wanted to rent an apartment on my own, which would cost around £300 a month, and, more importantly, to pay for private tango lessons.

I decided that, even though I’d always have a life in London, I’d try to spend as much time as possible in Argentina. I’ve been freelancing for magazines for almost seven years and have discovered the joys of

‘There’s a magic in allowing your body to respond, dancing steps you didn’t know existed’

Julie-Anne: ‘Tango gives

you the opportunity to

indulge your feminine side’

www.goodhousekeeping.co.uk GH FEBRUARY 2006

Real lives

36

working hard for six months, then rewarding myself with a few months off.

I couldn’t afford rent in Buenos Aires as well as a mortgage here, though, so I started letting out my London fl at. This means when I’m back in England, I either have to rent somewhere short term or stay with my friends or parents, who are incredibly sup-portive. I must admit the novelty of moving around so much is wearing off! I’ve lived in some grim places, too, to save money. There was the bedsit in London that was so small I could reach into the fridge from my bed, and so cold in winter I had to sleep in a woolly hat. Sometimes I think I must be mad. But when I’m in Buenos Aires, exploring the tree-lined cobbled streets, sitting in a café with tango music crackling from the speakers or dancing with one of my favourite old guys (they’re the best – the ones who’ve danced all their lives), it’s undeniably worth it.

During my year there, I’d go once or twice a week to a traditional afternoon milonga. My favourite is Club Español, with its beautiful wooden dance fl oor and elaborate gilt ceiling. I arrive at around 4 or 5pm, and step inside the antique golden elevator, ready to be transported to another world. The thrill of hearing the music growing louder, the closer I get, never fades. The waitress kisses me (customary everywhere you go in Buenos

Aires) and leads me to my table. Here, as is often the case, the women are seated separately from the men. I can barely get my shoes on quickly enough before I start looking out for someone to dance with. If you go somewhere regularly, you build up a sort of clientele. If I’m lucky, I’ll manage to make eye contact with Rene, my favourite. He’s 60-something and has a way of dancing that seems to ooze the music through my feet.

I have to be diplomatic, though. I’ve argued with boyfriends in the past because I’ve danced with someone else before dancing with them. And the jealousy runs both ways – it’s not unheard of for me to ask them, “So, who exactly is the woman with long hair I saw you dancing with three times?”

The eye-contact system is a selling point of danc-ing in Buenos Aires. The men don’t walk across the room and ask the women to dance as they do in London, but instead invite you with a mere nod of the head. It’s like having your own personal auction going on, and you accept the highest bid. Nod back, stand up and wait for the man to come to you for a “yes”. And if you’re being ogled by someone you know will throw you around like a vacuum cleaner, or subject you to the “dinner dance shuffl e”, you simply look the other way. It’s marvellous. I’ve got bunions from practising ballet as a teenager, so I hate to waste mileage on someone who can’t dance.

This system has done wonders for my confi dence with men, as you have to look back at them or you’d never dance. This seemed brazen at fi rst, but I enjoy it now. Tango certainly gives you the opportunity to indulge your feminine side. It’s wonderful to dress up whenever you feel like it and fascinating to see the effect it can have. If you turn up wearing a black satin skirt split to the waist, you’ll be in constant

demand to dance – I know, I’ve tried it.Not that a woman needs to wear a

pencil skirt to attract attention in Buenos Aires. You fi nd yourself in a world where people want to engage in conversation.

I love it. Taxi drivers comment on the colour of your eyes, the ice-cream man pulls out a chair for you to sit down for a chat, and the woman in the launderette you’ve been to only once leaps out on Good Friday to hug you and wish you a

Happy Easter. My days there were fi lled with tango lessons, learning Spanish and teach-ing English to a handful of private students, who were a delight. Another trip to Buenos Aires is now on the

horizon. I can’t re-mortgage my fl at again, so I’ve been saving frantically and I’ll just have to work more while I’m there. I like the freedom and adventure. Being far away, I can connect more closely with who I am and what I really want to do. The other day, my mum asked me

when I was going to settle down. Fair question, considering I’m 38 and have always been a bit of a nomad. Simple answer: when I’m ready

and not before. But wherever I end up, I don’t think I could live without tango.

1 Your feminine side will fl ourish as you learn the art

of following. Enjoy not being in control for a change.

2 You’ll develop trust by putting yourself in the arms

of complete strangers.

3 Men will shower you with compliments. This is brilliant

for your self-confi dence.

4 You don’t have to take many classes before you can get

out there and dance. Once you’ve gone for a spin with someone good, you’ll be hooked.

5 It’s exercise in disguise. You may be dancing backwards

in high heels, but you’re toning your body and getting a great workout – expect to burn around 200 calories an hour.

6 You can be as glamorous or outrageous as you like. It’s

the perfect excuse to stick a fl ower in your hair or wear an itsy bitsy crocheted top if you fancy it.

7 You’ll learn not to judge by appearances. It might

be the 80-year-old who makes your day with the way he expresses himself to the music.

8 A ready-made social life awaits. Wherever you are in

the world, you can show up on your own at a milonga and have a great time, watching and chatting as well as dancing.■ For more information, visit www.takes22tango.co.uk, which lists London tango clubs and has links to other tango websites around the country.

‘Now, I connect more closely with who I am and what I really want to do’

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by making eye contact’

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hearing the music growing louder, the closer I get, never fades. The waitress kisses me (customary everywhere you go in Buenos

demand to dance – I know, I’ve tried it.

pencil skirt to attract attention in Buenos Aires. You fi nd yourself in a world where people want to engage in conversation.

I love it. Taxi drivers comment on the colour of your eyes, the ice-cream man pulls out a chair for you to sit down for a chat, and the woman in the launderette you’ve been to only once leaps out on Good Friday to hug you and wish you a

Happy Easter. My days there were fi lled with tango lessons, learning Spanish and teach-ing English to a handful of private students, who were a delight. Another trip to Buenos Aires is now on the

horizon. I can’t re-mortgage my fl at again, so I’ve been saving frantically and I’ll just have to work more while I’m there. I like the freedom and adventure. Being far away, I can connect more closely with who I am and what I really want to do. The other day, my mum asked me

when I was going to settle down. Fair question, considering I’m 38 and have always been a bit of a nomad. Simple answer: when I’m ready

and not before. But wherever I end up, I don’t think I could live without tango.

or outrageous as you like. It’s

fl ower in your hair or wear an itsy bitsy crocheted top if you fancy it.

Wherever you are in

your own at a milonga and have

www.takes22tango.co.uk, which

reasons to take up tango