Tag Archives: sisterhood

Alli celebrates the sisterhood, soul-mates and dancing like no-one is watching …

21 Mar

Twenty years ago, at the deliciously naive age of 17, I snagged a plum part-time job at Sizzler. Here I met my three dearest and oldest friends, Jo, Anna-Lisa and Leesa. Anna worked the registers with me, Leesa was the queen of the salad bar and Jo had the enviable role of waitress (paying the big bucks!). Sizzler funded us through uni. Who knew that we would be bonded by cheesy toast for the rest of our lives?

Jo, Leesa, me, Anna - a lifetime ago!

You see, Jo, Anna and Leesa are my soul-mates. And yes, I did steal that line straight out of Sex and the City, but they are. The tyranny of distance hasn’t dented our bond. Boys have come and gone (how lucky am I to have had the same bridesmaids for both weddings?). And no matter how long it is between phone calls, we don’t ever give each other a hard time, which is good news for me as I am the slack one (sorry!). They are “my girls”.   

Twenty years on, we are still the best of friends. Not that we see each other all that often. Anna has lived in the US on and off for 15 years, and I don’t think we’ll be getting her back anytime soon (thank goodness she’s mad for Skype!). I miss her. Jo lives on the Sunshine Coast, and with three kids, a busy career and a hardworking husband who is also in a gaggle of bands, it’s hard to find time to connect.

Leesa lives just a few suburbs away, yet we only see each other every month or so, mostly due to my seriously stressed-out life – and she has a family to juggle too. Sorry Leesa! Bless her – she is both persistent and patient. I would have given up on me years ago.

The year was 1993 - I kid you not!

We have done/seen/said/been it all to each other over the years. We have shared clothes, cars, holidays, houses, boyfriends, drinks, Mars Bars (inside joke there!) even jobs. We have seen each other through break-ups and break-downs. We are super honest, but we don’t fight. Well, I did get annoyed with Anna for pashing my boyfriend when we were 18, but I’m over it now.

It’s quite a peaceful feeling knowing that these three beautiful (inside and out) women will be by my side (even from the other side of the world) for the rest of my life.

Yep, we're starting to mature here...

Anyway, enough emotional  stuff. Let’s get to the point. Dancing. Daggy dancing, to be precise.

Two weeks ago, Jo, Leesa and I caught up for “our usual” outing. We do it about three or four times a year. And no we don’t frock up in designer dresses, sky-high stilettos and head for cosmos at the coolest bar. We grab a couple of bottles of cheap bubbles, head to China Town, talk for two hours non-stop over dim sims and spring rolls, and then we go out.

Out to the same nightclub, Kaliber in the Valley in Brisbane, every time. It’s daggy and it plays songs with words. Remember those days? When you could go to a club and actually sing along with the music? Most clubs don’t cater for the “around 40” demographic. Guess they figure we’re at home knitting or scrapbooking? But this place plays it all – ‘70s, ‘80s, ‘90s and current stuff. And the age and mix of people is somewhat eclectic – from 18 to 50! We boogie to Footloose alongside 18-year-olds who know all the words. What the? We have found nirvana for old chicks. It’s our “special place”.

So, out we go. The moment we walk through that door we are transported back to a time when our skirts were short, our tops were low, our boobs were perky, we lived to dance, and boys thought we were hot. A time without husbands, mortgages, children, family dramas, stretchmarks and financial woes. As soon as we hit that dance floor, nothing else matters.

Actual dancing when we were "young"

We dance like no one is watching. We do running man. We dance to The Spice Girls and sing all the words. We request anything by Salt’n’Peppa and scream with excitement when Walking on Sunshine comes on.  

Our hair sticks to our faces. Our jeans/tights have to be literally rolled down so we can pee. Our makeup sweats straight off.  Actually, we look pretty messy by the end of it, but we don’t care. Yet somehow, we still manage to attract a bit of attention from the blokes, and honestly, that’s a nice feeling as most days we feel old and crusty. Good to know we’ve still got it!

The blurry text Anna received two weeks ago...

I live for these nights. I live for my girls. It’s the ultimate escape from our busy little lives. For just a few hours we’re not wives, mothers and busy career women, we are just Alli, Jo and Leesa (and Anna who lives vicariously through us in the US courtesy of drunken text messages and photos).

Everybody cut Footloose!

I was laying in bed this morning thinking about how much fun we have on these nights. We definitely need to do it more often. Ours is a special friendship, one that will continue to withstand the test of time. And we should celebrate it with daggy dancing. I’m off to lock in a date with the girls.

DJ, you’d better get Footloose ready!

Tell us about your special friendships? What do you do to “reconnect”?

Alli

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