Strictly Come Dancing 30.09.07

I'm all about Saturday night. Well, Saturday mid-evening really. That's thirteen weeks of Doctor Who a year and fourteen weeks of Strictly Come Dancing and two Christmas specials, leaving twenty-three weekends a year for a social life (or watching it all over again on my PVR.) That seems balanced to me.

What's not to love about Strictly Come Dancing? Celebrities. Sequined outfits. Celebrities in sequined outfits. (This is not a list of what not to love, by the way. Once again, felled by grammar.) The in-house band mauling popular hits of the day. The in-house band in sequined outfits. Bruce Forsyth. Tess Daly. Tess Daly in sequined outfits. The judges. The judges in sequined outfits. The judges mauling popular celebrities of the day in sequined outfits. And dancing, dancing, dancing! Or things approximating dancing. Sometimes just agonised shuffling in manner of cow slowly expiring of CJD, in sequined outfit. Honestly, if you don't adore Strictly Come Dancing, there is nothing but a lump of coal beating glumly in your hard, lonely chest.

I am slightly disappointed this season that there is nobody that could accurately be described as a dancing wardrobe (cf Peter Schmeichel, Darren Gough) because it is always a highlight of my season wondering if they will tip over and crash as if leaned on by careless removal men, except in ruffles. On the other hand, the producers have made up for this oversight by booking the following glorious contestants:

1. Gethin, aka the cute one out of Blue Peter, who has already said he will wear *anything* the production team give him to wear. Rash. I mean, that's rash, and also he will probably get a rash, from all that tight, translucent, shiny, man-made fabric, with feathers and sequins and ruffles and OK, I'm getting sweaty-palmed. Moving on.

2. Stephanie Beacham. Stephanie Beacham! I have often said, OK, never said, but would have if I had thought of it, that what was missing from Strictly Come Dancing was a direct umbilical link to Dynasty, in perfect across-time-and-space marriage of kitsch icons bearing baby of family entertainment joy. It's a shame they couldn't get Joan Collins, but she is probably now a solid lump of botox incapable of independent movement. Stephanie Beacham is dancing with pocket rocket Vincent Simone, the half pint Latin King, in a beautiful meeting of snake hips and cheese, and if they get voted out in week one I will actually cry.

3. Laeticia Dean. I am actually not all that excited about Laeticia Dean, but if she were to get into a fight with Stephanie Beacham, ideally involving acrylic nails and detached hair extensions and ripped fabric, I would cheerfully support any increase in the license fee that the BBC cared to impose.

This week was only an introductory episode so we didn't actually get to see any of the new contestants dance, although they showed a snippet of Carol Vorderman's rhumba, so by no means could you call it a disappointment. Next week, though, the show begins in earnest. I can barely contain my excitement, in fact I am not containing it at all.

Question: if you could choose the dream contestant for Strictly Come Dancing, who would it be? I will open the bidding with: Alan Hansen.