Prima Ballerina

On Monday and Thursday evenings, and on Saturday mornings, somewhere on the Upper West Side, you'll find me dancing up a storm - attempting things like Développés, Piqués, Relevés, Ront des jambes and well, you get the point.

After an eight year hiatus from Jazz Ballet and Tap, I'm now burning calories in a haze of Centre Stage, trying to Chaîné up and down the dance studio in my trusty pink ballet slippers - I try not to look at myself too much in the unavoidable wall-to-wall mirror, that way I feel far more graceful than I probably look.

My main motivation to start dancing again was one part exercise and one part soft ballet shoes with ribbons, leotards, tights and high buns.

My reasoning goes something like this - while most of us can not reasonably aspire to the ultimate leanness of, say, Christy Turlington, one can try. And why not when trying means twirling around the room in a pretty leotard à la Jody Sawyer.