Finding a hobby: Line dancing

Pointy-toed, embossed leather, calf-height ideally, though ankle-length will suffice. Worn with just about anything, cowboy boots are synonymous with line dancing.

That’s how it began for Rebecca Tostevin who runs the Clive Boot Scootin’ line dancing classes in Hawke’s Bay.

“It all started when some friends and I decided to buy cowboy boots and go line dancing,” Rebecca says. “We found our boots and went along the only place that came up on Google – the RSA in Napier. We thought it was really cool, and the people probably quite enjoyed our enthusiasm, but it didn’t quite have the vibe I was hoping for – I wanted to wear my cowboy hat but you’re not allowed to wear hats in the RSA.

“Then one night there was a band at the Clive Pub who always play Wagon Wheel. I thought ‘we should learn a line dance for Wagon Wheel and do it there.’ So, a friend and I started teaching that one dance and it was so much fun that more people wanted to join in. The whole thing just sort of grew.”

Today, 18 months later, Rebecca runs nine classes a week in a former lawnmower shop on the main street of Clive. The classses cater to absolute beginners through to ‘improvers’ who have been attending regularly.

On a Tuesday morning, wearing my box-fresh pair of black and white cowboy boots, I stand nervously in front of a wall of mirrors. I’m one of about 20 participants, some in boots, others in trainers, awaiting Rebecca’s instructions. The group is comprised of a full spectrum of ages – a new mum bounces her baby on her hip as she moves alongside sprightly silver-haired women in their 70s. It’s a warm, unintimidating environment.

Microphone in hand, Rebecca walks us through the basic steps of a dance. We follow along, foot focused, mimicking her movements. “You’ve got to cook the noodles before you add the spice,” she explains, and once we’ve run through the basic routine, we do it to music.

As we applaud at the end of a song, I make eye contact with the woman behind me, we both blow out our cheeks, grinning, acknowledging the level of exertion. I flap the bottom of my damp shirt.

“You can get a sweat up for sure!” Rebecca says. “Lots of people use line dancing for fitness as it’s really easy to pick up. There are some ladies who I worried they’d never come back because they barely moved for their first class, but within a month they were dancing. It’s really good for your coordination and memory. Which is probably why women of a certain age love it.”

At one point during the Tuesday class – grapevine, scuff, pivot – I find myself travelling in the wrong direction and maybe it’s because of my shiny new cowboy boots, but the rest of the line takes my lead. “Nobody follow Jo!” Rebecca laughs into the microphone, “it’s her first class!” I shrug sheepishly, giggling.

But as the class progresses, I watch the reflection of my feet in the mirror, surprised to see that I do almost look like I know what I’m doing. It really is a shallow learning curve.

“Right, we’ve got time for one more song. Any requests?” Rebecca calls. “Runaround Sue!” is the consensus and we all shuffle, sway and clap to the jaunty retro rhythm.

The Wednesday evening class is both busier and more advanced – a ‘high beginner’ level for people who’ve been dancing for a while. Arriving a little late, I slip into the end of a row which suddenly becomes the front row as everyone spins to face a new wall. I stumble along, watching in the mirror, trying to follow the others’ footsteps.

A trio of young women dance barefoot; others are dressed for exercise in lycra. One tall man in a cowboy hat and patterened boots shuffles and scuffs confidently.

The class is a significant step up. And step out. And step to the side. For one song Rebecca hands the microphone over to a regular who knows the routine well. She coaches the room through a complicated series of steps – toe tap, heel tap, jazz box, weave – to Ed Sheeran’s Shiver. We do the dance several times and by the third run through we’re all moving in sync, rotating around the room, grinning, lost in the music.

“The joy is really quite overwhelming for me,” Rebecca says. “So many people are just so happy to be part of it. It makes it all worthwhile when I get people coming up to me after class saying ‘thank you so much, this is what I look forward to every week.’

“With line dancing, you’re laughing, you’re moving, you’re connected with people. You don’t even know these people but if you dance beside someone and you’re dancing in sync – it’s just good for your soul.”