....... or technically Richmond to Brixton but that doesn't quite have the same ring to it.
In case you didn't know this, and quite frankly if you didn't I'm ashamed (I mean it's not as if I didn't know this time last year or anything because I totally did ..... really), this weekend was the UK B-Boy championships WORLD finals and Dance Station was there in force. Featuring solo popping, hip hop freestyle and bboy battles as well as bboy crew battles, it is one of the sickest events of the year. In fact it is so sick, it seems to have been responsible for causing a terrible affliction whereby all us dance-stationers were left almost incapable of any type of complex, higher-order vocalisation that involved words, or at least words that made sense, and instead were reduced to a more primal form of conversation - namely screaming.
However, I feel there was a bona-fide excuse for the level of excitement responsible for this evolutionary reversion (oh how I hope Darwin isn't turning over in his grave) and that was the amount of UK and female talent representing on stage! Seriously forget about the 'super saturday' of the Olympics, watching Brooke Milliner get to the final for popping - a FIRST for a UK dancer - and Soul Mavericks also get to the final for the crew battle was such a heart-in-your-mouth, butterflies-in-you-stomach, jelly-in-your-knees experience that I'm not sure my vocal chords will ever quite recover. Although neither took their respective crowns in the end (depriving the DS-ers a chance to "Church" much to their collective disappointment) theirs was a moral victory, as both Brooke and the Soul Mavs crew not only showcased the level of talent in the UK from a technical perspective but the level of originality, community and pride - traits that we often forget about until events like these pull us together and make us remember - and for that we can only thank and congratulate them.
This is not to say there were no trophies taken home by UK peeps. One of the more bizarre (surreal, utterly bonkers, disgustingly shallow - take your pick) events of the weekend is Crazy legs' "fresh award." Basically this involves members of the audience going up on stage and consenting to their 'look' being torn to shreds (or potentially in hip hop speak 'cussed to chunks') by the audience and crazy legs himself. And whilst I cannot ever fully condone an event that incorporates a "thong check" (in my opinion Bridget Jones has the right idea) it was a bit of a welcome light-hearted relief from the nail-baiting drama. PLUS this year Miss Eleanor (@EleanorOfficial) fellow crew member of DS residents @KleioBows and @MlleGinger only went and won it! Man oh man can that girl WERK, if only I could bottle some of that confidence and sell it I'd be a millionaire!
Overall, it was an aMAZing weekend. These events only serve to highlight how passion can bring really REALLY diverse groups of people together in a way that cannot be replicated by anything else - in fact it was so inspiring we've all sworn to enter next year with the intention of not just smoking some brehs but annihilating them - see you all then!
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