It’s the same reason I play Billie Pipers “honey to the bee” full volume when I awake, why I went, and have been obsessing over, Hula Hooping classes. The same reason I drag my unwitting friends to pole dancing in activist’s and freedom fighter’s squats in Hackney Wick (you get a tangerine and a slap on the bottom at the end). It’s the quest to find and insure that my inner 90’s bea-stung breasted monster child is still in there. So, with the promise of a florescent pink Queen of Hearts cocktail and an assurance that this is NOT exercise, darling Mimi and I ventured to the Biscuit Tin, Shoreditch, to find the 6 packs we had lost somewhere between puberty and McDonalds.
MARAWA the AMAZING. Phowaaoor. Not only has she played at EVERY festival you’ve ever been to, The Amazing has done it on every continent, she’s done it on a trapeze, TV shows, music videos. You name it Marawa has grinded on it. Pint sized Marawa is a delicious, Nutritious, heart racing and good for your health. Her current record, she told me, is 133 hoops at once. She’s better than a light installation or a disco ball, its mesmerizing to watch. So after an hour of Mimi boomeranging her hoop across the room several times, me playing a brown nosed teacher’s pet, we upped our game.
So imagine a torpedo hula hooping, okay? So your this torpedo, hula hooping pedo, your arms are in the air, your nipples have popped out and then taken shelter and Marawa starts throwing a heap of hula hoops at you, screaming, HARDER, KEEP IT UP, rhythm… cuuum OOOOORRRN, KEEP GOING FASTER!!
“Ok well it takes a lot of practice”.
I ended up being 130 away from Marawa’s record, three on the go, frizbeeing someone in the head only once.
Mimi at this point has a green bruise crawling up her hips and announced herself exercised out. I announced myself too sober and we left. But I am going back Sunday…
(Photos courtesy of Marawa the amazing)