This is the book I have always wanted to write. I just hadn’t realised it until 2019, the year of my fortieth birthday. My husband asked me what I wanted to do to mark the occasion,
I Carried A Watermelon
and I said without hesitation, ‘I want to watch Dirty Dancing.’ It even surprised me a little, hearing it come out of my mouth, but we sat down, found it on Netflix and settled in for the evening. I’m so glad we did, because it felt like coming home.
It had been some time since I’d last seen Dirty Dancing – a few years – but as soon we pressed play, and that banging, jangling opening to ‘Big Girls Don’t Cry’ by The Four Seasons
came through the speakers, I was right back there where it all began. I felt excited. I felt it wouldn’t let me down, and I hoped I wouldn’t regret it. I think in some ways I wanted to have a moment to reflect on the first 40 years of my life. To look back on my teenage years, and compare myself now, to the girl I was then. I needed a way to measure my progress, and with that need came the realisation that Dirty Dancing has been a constant influence in my life since I was 11 years old. Would my reaction to it remain the same? How much of that obsessed girl (because I was entirely obsessed with Dirty Dancing) remains within me, and how much of her has fallen away?
Of course, since my obsession abated from its height at around the age of 13 (when I was viewing it daily), I have watched Dirty Dancing a good few times, but as an adult I haven’t really concentrated on it, or myself properly, as it plays out on the screen. Suddenly I wanted to focus on it, to really see it again in all its glory. I saw the fortieth birthday screening as part of my development as a person, and maybe a way of rounding off the first half of my life, giving me a pause as I enter the foothills of middle age, and beyond. This book is largely the product of that evening. I’m so glad my husband was cool with it.
And afterwards, as the credits rolled, I sat quietly by myself for a moment, enjoying that special glow you get when a story transports you. It’s a ‘proper film’ – exciting, honest, sexy, moving, and uplifting. It was all still there. It’s so life-affirming and joyful, but with enough substance to keep you satisfied. Life can wear you down, and by now I have suffered a few slings and arrows of my own, but I went to bed, newly 40 feeling as invincible as I had as a teenager. That night I fell in love with Dirty Dancing all over again.
The thing about Dirty Dancing is that it has some magic ingredient that makes you feel invincible. You enter Baby’s world, and you come out feeling better and stronger. What more could you want from a heroine? What more could you want from anything?
I was worried when I started looking at Dirty Dancing that it would not stand up to scrutiny, or that it would disappear through my fingers into nothing. But in fact, there was more packed in there than I had even imagined. It works as entertainment, yes, of course, but the political messages are as fresh and pertinent now as ever. And the lessons too are still there for any girl who wishes to heed them. I’d make it required viewing for teenage boys and girls – it should be taught in schools.
The syllabus would be:
How to stand up for yourself.
How to help others without judgement.
How not to be a passenger in your own life.
What consensual sex looks like.
Women and girls can and should ask for sex without being called sluts.
Good sex means good sex for everyone.
If you want him, go get him.
Women should be sovereign over their own bodies.
Our parents are not always the heroes we think they are – they are human, like us.
Be nice to your sister as she will always help you out in the end.
One failed romance will not break you.
You should take risks and live in the moment.
A ‘yes’ is almost always better than a ‘no’ when an opportunity to learn something new is presented.
Don’t let anyone put you in a corner.
You are the hero of your own story.
All of the above, I learned from Dirty Dancing. These lessons are present in other films, books, TV shows and plays of course, but not usually in one place. It’s an addictive story,
with a satisfying and yet open end. We get to write the next bit, with our own lives. I have done 40 years, I can only hope for another 40. Who knows what will happen? I’ll watch Dirty
Dancing again on my eightieth birthday and report back . . .Let’s have the time of our lives, whatever we do. We are the heroes. We drive the story. We make it happen.
I Carried A Watermelon: Dirty Dancing and Me by Katy Brand is published by HQ, HarperCollins in hardback, audiobook and ebook.