Decades of Dance: Partying Through The Ages
Image Vonaline Cake Photography ~ Horseplay Loko 2017
I often go out alone, usually to meet with friends, people I know, places I’m familiar with...but not always. Sometimes I walk into a space and the daunting prospect of being in a room full of strangers is almost too much to bear! But years ago, when I was agoraphobic, I pushed myself to meet the world coming at me instead of letting it flatten me. So off I go, muttering some sort of mantra as I go. Chin out, tits up, that sort of thing. Sometimes it’s absolutely crippling...but there’s always someone to talk to and it’s all ok. And it genuinely gets less scary as I get older.
In my teens I went to the local pub, the sticky carpet disco, Reading Festival, up to London for gigs or clubs sometimes. I wasn’t as wild as my peers, they seemed to have such grown up times. I explored my real self hidden underneath all the weight of expectation and pressure. Somewhere in there was someone who swam against the tide but I still had water wings on my puny arms and a float to hold me up. Over time I started to emerge.
In my 20’s I partied hard, worked in a pub for some of it, went to clubs, tents, festivals, fields, warehouses, empty office blocks, and once, a mountain! I was awkward and often nervous, wasn’t sure if people liked me, but the party *favours* gave me the confidence, the energy, the love! I binned the water wings, kept hold of the float though.
In my 30’s, a little while after having a baby, I chased my old self in every event, every pub and club, every gig, every encounter. I didn’t find her of course. I drank too much at the weekends when my son was at his Dads. It gave me courage at first, but then it got me into trouble so I addressed it. I ditched that float and got my water wings back.
Since turning 40, which seems *old enough* I’ve found myself at a lot of parties. I’m sometimes there to photograph which gives me purpose and reason. But sometimes I just go for the craic. A dance, a chat, a catch up, a nose, a chance to observe the youthful avante garde in all their colourful and loud glory. I occasionally feel intimidated by the occasion, but rarely by the people. I suppose some of them view me with the same curiosity I had in my 20’s when an old geezer would turn up at the rave. I hear the echoes down the years of *I hope I’m still like you at your age*. But I don't mind, not one bit. I hoped I would be like me at my age and here I am...still partying from time to time and still enjoying the buzz, the flashing lights, the loud music and the wild atmosphere. Moreover though, I’m not the only one, there are more and more of us slightly older ones around the place, I suppose we don’t really want to fully let go of the fun. Of course I don’t party like I used to.
I do notice that the diversity is different these days, there were more people from very mixed backgrounds when I was younger, people from the council estates, people from the posh houses and everyone in between. I do notice a lot of the crowds I mix in now seem to be more in the middle of things, perhaps that’s a symptom of the times. Perhaps more people are middle class now than ever before. It’s possible the middle class doesn’t really exist and we’re all nearer the same. Maybe the divide is SO big that it can’t be bridged as easily. I can’t be sure. I do know one thing though, no matter what background you’re from, it’s a lot tougher being young these days. The political climate, the services being cut, the total lack of grants in education. I didn’t use my free pass to go to university, feeling it wasn’t for the likes of me. I rarely regret that. But I do feel for the kids leaving school and university now and the narrow lane of possibilities open to them.
It hurts more of course, the old knees, the sore feet. I don’t quite last as long most of the time. Behind me now are the long nights of silliness where we’d greet the dawn with ruddy faces, squinting and still dancing into the harsh daylight. If I go to bed past about 3am I know I will pay for it through the week. I hate to leave early...so I’m always pleased when it’s an earlier event...oh I have changed! I leave the wild all nighters to the young and those who can still manage it.
Now I’m 51 I am of course quite invisible a lot of the time and I enjoy this clever magic trick sometimes. I occasionally look at the crowd at the bar and have pangs of envy...their youthful glow, mad fashion, excellent hair, fast conversation, quick service...it’s all to be admired. And I do. More and more older people go out now compared to when I was a teenager. No longer confined to sensible and sedate activities like dining, dinner dancing and dinner parties. (there was a lot of food based stuff) We now join in with the cabaret! I often find younger people asking me how it used to be compared to how it is now. I enjoy these conversations a lot but sometimes can’t help showing off...which isn’t cool, not one bit! Every generation will have it different, and each one as it ages will think it made a path for the new ones. Maybe we did...a bit…
Image Vonalina Cake Photography ~ Don’t Tell Your Mother at The Arnolfini 2017
I see so many young people, in their 20’s and 30’s mainly, starting businesses, magazines (Jess, yes, you) creating events, performances, personas. My crowd made things happen too, parties, festivals, dance troupes, costumes, events decoration, zines, gigs. I guess what I’m saying is...nothing really changes that much. The internet makes it a lot easier now. Where we relied on secret meeting places and phone numbers, things can happen so much faster now. Social media can be a brilliant tool for connecting, creating, organising, galvanising, demonstrating. It’s with thanks to the www that I’m here in my pyjamas on a Sunday fixing up this article ready for sending. I can’t imagine being organised enough pre internet to actually get anything published!
Image Vonalina Cake Photography ~ Tom Marshman & Mother ~ Don’t Tell Your Mother at Bristol Pride After Party 2018
Most of the time I’m in a mixed crowd, I spend a lot of time in the LGBTQ comunity, well known in Bristol for being a diverse bunch a lot of the time. But once in a while I find myself in a timewarp...where men behave strangely and women seem to accept it. But don’t worry dear reader...it doesn’t last long. The venue makes a difference too, there are some where I feel very out of place. The type of event too, although this is rarely to do with age it seems, more to do with the crowd. If I go to a big venue for a party, show or gig the security team often seem rather unprepared or ill informed. The smaller places are better. I prefer a more intimate experience nowadays. There are lots of venues in Bristol that are welcoming to ALL people and those are the ones I tend to go to. I do occasionally find myself in a place that feels tense and chaotic, but I don’t think this is to do with my age, more to do with the mood of the venue and it’s clientele. I felt just the same in my 20’s about some places. As long as we all stick to our tribe it’s usually pretty good. That tribe isn’t something made up of people from the same class, the same ilk, the same neighbourhoods with the same taste in music or clothes either, it’s about what’s at the heart of you. Like likes like and you can’t really argue with that!
We live in such interesting times, where people are questioning their roles again, their place, their ideas of self. The gender question...it’s a huge topic...but it’s given me a more comfortable place to be. We were all embracing of course back in the day, we were nice people, but there wasn’t the range there is around me now. I’m grateful for it every day, all the things I learn from the young who are really expressing themselves, flexing their self awareness muscles. I like how many people younger than me appreciate me being part of their world. I’ve learned from them how to be firm and clear in my beliefs and to stand strong.
Image Vonalina Cake Photography ~ Maz of Sparklemotion leads the crowd with a Kate Bush dance at Pop Horror Prom at The Arnolfini, 2017
Maybe I’m not like other middle aged women...I know I’m not like a great many of them. People often seem surprised by my age and think I’m younger and this poses the BIG question...why do we still feel flattered by this? Why do we value youth over age? I think that’s changing, truly. I do feel valued a lot of the time. Not just humoured, but welcomed. Maybe I’m not old enough to be humoured yet! Please someone tell me if I’m making a tit of myself. Of course I am lucky...I live in a city with a lot of extremely interesting, driven and wonderful young people. Compared to how I spent most of my 20’s I’m constantly impressed with the way they handle themselves and conduct their daily lives. They have seriously got their shit together! I’ve seen how the Pride Parade over the years has been swelled in number by the *youthquake generation* and it fills me with joy. I see the kids at school hometime all noisy and full of ideas filling the local streets with chaos and much vigour. I talk to the children of friends and see their world view isn’t as idealistic as mine was. It’s more real and grounded and they act from that and really make things happen. I feel more equal to them than perhaps *Dave The Rave* did when he turned up at *our* parties all those years ago. But who knows. The divide does seem to be closing though and I’m all for squeezing through the gap!
Photography and Words by Vonalina Cake
“My name is Von, I’ve lived in Bristol since 1992 and I’ve lived a lot of lives since then.”