You've heard it all before by now: tutus, leg warmers, ballet flats and buns are the basics to pulling off the dancing look. But these essentials are probably a bit boring to you by now. With the ubiquitous American Apparel spandex and churned out Hollywood flicks like "Step Up, " "Fame!" and "Center Stage," it's understandable that anyone would be sick of the dance clothes fad.
But I'm making an assumption about what exactly constitutes dancing clothes. Somehow the tights of Baryshnikov and the hoodies of Americas' Best Dance Crew are thrown together into the same functional category. Dancing clothes have evolved from their structured genres to encompass not only traditional tulle and tights, jazz pants and Jennifer Beals leotards but also Hammer pants and rave gear. This giant pool of clothes is tied together in collective facilitation of the wearer to exude some kind of physicality and personality put to rhythm, the rhythm of another reality which exists on the stage or dance floor. People now wear dance clothes in everyday life to enjoy that feeling of special-ness, importance and fantasy that comes with them. That special-ness isn't necessarily about being avant, but it is about creating an aura in which you are able to move and groove however you wish.
Consider the current trend of menswear for women. Many of the items conjure images of the late Michael Jackson: bomber jackets, fedoras, suits and even jazz shoes dominate the pages of magazines. Harper's Bazaar dressed model Agyness Deyn as the King of Pop, decking her out in Balmain jackets and a glittering pair of Christian Louboutin oxfords. Buying an item resembling MJ's iconic style can be your small way of paying homage to the artist, or it can even give you the courage to fine-tune your moonwalk. A fedora calls for a pose; jazz shoes necessitate a slide to the left. His iconic style proves that any type of clothing can be turned into dance clothes; it's about comfort in identity and movement.
On the other end of the pop spectrum, look at Beyonc. She is notorious for dancing in those staggeringly high stilettos ever since she was with Destiny's Child. Recently, her Fosse-inspired "Single Ladies" video became a hit with its empowering choreography, propelling Beyonc's alter-ego, Sasha Fierce, to the forefront of pop music. Sasha Fierce gives Beyonc an escape to the wild side, and the ability to let loose just like a dancing outfit would. And recently with her appearance in Lady Gaga's "Telephone" music video, we see another side of Beyonc, who's empowered but also rivaled by the radical aesthetics of Lady Gaga. Now that's a woman who is comfortable in whatever she dons simply because she basks in the fantasy of her pop star persona
We've been inundated with media depicting Lady Gaga over the past year or so, her abnormal fashion taste constantly testing its boundaries of absurdity. Lady Gaga is always in costume, her dancing outfits acknowledge the universal desire to try on a different skin or to uninhibitedly express oneself. Even if that means dancing around in a thong in the "Telephone" video or parading in the late Alexander McQueen "armadillo" heels in the "Bad Romance" video, she tests her own self-confidence by breaking rules. Her dancing fashion sense is of course vastly different from that of any passerby, but what remains consistent is that certain clothes give wearers the ability to move easier in terms of their self-confidence and physicality, leotards and bell-bottoms alike. As Lady Gaga says: just dance.
