even then she makes a bit of a joke about it, draping herself over a railing in a cartoonish mockery of how a Hollywood siren might move. She’s having fun, and to be honest, that lipstick would be so plain it would barely register. The only other time she makes an effort is when she dances with Johnny at the Sheldrake, and that is for professional reasons. Yes, her outfits get sexier and skimpier as she learns to dance, but this does not appear calculated to have a sexual pull on Johnny, more for us to see that she is gaining confidence in her own body as she learns what it can do.
Other than these moments, it’s ‘pretty in your own way’ the whole time. I still look at myself in the mirror, and I see the imperfections, and then I catch myself and murmur comfortingly, ‘You’re pretty in your own way.’ This is partly to excuse the sheer lack of effort on my part on a day-to-day basis, but also it’s a kind, realistic and affirming little ritual that makes you forget the pressures of having to contour yourself until you basically resemble a Kardashian, no matter the original shape of your features.
In fact, there is never any suggestion that Baby has to achieve a certain ‘look’ to get Johnny’s attention, or win his desire. The first time they have sex, it follows the car journey back from the Sheldrake, in which Baby climbs in the back seat to change out of her more glamorous and revealing dancing outfit and back into the jeans and shirt she was wearing before. Johnny seems genuinely attracted by her character, her commitment, her goodness and her determination. That is what turns him on. However you look at it, this is a great message for a young girl entering the world of sexual politics for the first time. Or anyone, in fact.
There are no games with Baby and Johnny, and when you think about it, that is quite striking. They work together, they fancy each other, so they fuck. They communicate directly with each other. They don’t send messages through friends, or play hard to get. They want it, so they do it. And then they do it again, and again, and again. The central issue of the film is not whether she has slept with him too fast to retain his respect, or whether he fancies someone else more, or whether she’s cool enough for him. It’s whether or not she can solve the mystery of a series of purse thefts from the hotel for which he is accused before he is fired. And whether she can respect herself, even when she loses the respect of her father. It’s strong stuff. And it’s all very sexy, especially when they keep dancing with each other half-naked and a bit sweaty.
Even when they think they are going to have to separate for good, there is very little angst or stress. Watching this scene now, it is incredible to me how mature it is. Standing opposite each other next to his car on a dusty track, they embrace. He says, ‘I’ll never be sorry,’ she agrees, and then he drives away. She waves for a moment, pauses and then turns to walk back to the hotel. It’s so weirdly calm. They both seem to accept that it was fun while it lasted, they had some good times, but now it’s over, and they have to go their separate ways. There is no suggestion that Baby will throw away her future for him, or that he will pursue her, or let her down at a later date. They kiss, they hug, he drives off, and she waves. And all the while ‘She’s Like the Wind’, composed and performed by Swayze himself, plays over the top. What’s not to love? When you compare it to the hysterical, ‘my life is over’ form of comparable scenes in more recent romantic dramas, it’s revolutionary. It basically tells you that you can have a holiday romance, and then get over it and get on with your life. Think how many wasted hours we could all have saved over the years, when we’ve agreed to meet up with a holiday shag back home, and then sat opposite each other in a dreary pub, wondering, faintly embarrassed, what the hell you ever saw in each other, praying no one you know comes in.
But even though I had all this formative education thanks to Dirty Dancing, my teenage years were barren, sexually speaking. In fact, I think you could even throw the word ‘frigid’ around and I wouldn’t kick you in the nuts. Of course, there’s nothing wrong with not being ready, but I was definitely resisting even the most innocent of romantic encounters – a light touch, a gentle snog. I think now that part of the attraction of becoming a full-on, fundamentalist, evangelical Christian from the age of 13 to 19 was the fact that they didn’t believe in sex before marriage, so I always had an excuse. ‘I can’t have sex with you because of Jesus,’ is a very effective deterrent, if you didn’t already know …
I somehow knew that the reality would be a let-down, compared with Baby’s first experience, and therefore also the version I’d imagined for myself. My fear was in fact confirmed by my first snog, back at that Cornish campsite, at the age of 13. I remember his tongue thrusting in and out of my mouth with such vigour that I wondered whether he was trying to eat my dinner. Of course, he was young too – no doubt he is now a top-level snogger – but this put me off for a long time. It felt nothing like the soft kisses that Baby and Johnny share. But nevertheless, there was a dusky magic to it, and that moment just before the moment, when you know it’s going to happen and something inside takes over, is still a thrilling memory. That feeling of stepping outside to share a cigarette with someone you fancy, and realising they fancy you too, and it’s going to happen, and it’s going to happen now, is one of the most delicious sensations known to mankind.
Deep down I was waiting for Johnny Castle. An older man, perhaps. Or at least someone who knew what to do. In the film, he is meant to be 25 to Baby’s 17, and Swayze himself was 34 when it was made (Grey was 27). This keeps us just on the right side of ‘slightly pervy’, but the age gap, both real and imagined, has been remarked upon before. It is really the sincerity and innocence of the performances that keeps us from any true discomfort.
Some have said maybe Johnny does this every year, and Baby is simply his latest victim, but I’m not having that. Because there is nothing untoward or unequal about the sex Baby and Johnny have. In fact, Swayze himself understood this, saying in a TV profile of his life and career that the film shows the loss of Baby’s innocence, but the regaining of Johnny’s. A more beautiful and insightful comment on their respective journeys, I could not compose.
And when that astonishing sex scene finally happens, crucially, it is Baby who initiates it. She seduces Johnny. She comes to his cabin, expressly disobeying her father, who has literally just told her she is to have nothing more to do with him. She’s performed her duties at the Sheldrake, so there is no need for her to come at all. Baby may hope to use apologising to Johnny for her father’s behaviour as a cover for her late-night visit, but she knows perfectly well what she’s really after, and suggests they dance together, one last time. As they move to the cracked soul of ‘Cry to Me’ by Solomon Burke, she runs her hands over his naked torso and grips hold of his buttock like a woman who knows exactly what she wants. It is one of the sexiest scenes of all time. Watching them blend together, in and out of bed, is enough to give you palpitations. And the best thing about it all is that Baby clearly loves it – she is not ashamed or guilty, she just wants more. Here is a teenage girl losing her virginity with no misery, shame or tears. She loves sex. It can be done!
When you are brought up with the constant reinforcement that your virginity is both a hindrance and a prize, that the losing of it will be traumatic no matter how you do it, can you conceive of how astonishing this film is? Let’s stand back and give it a moment. Let’s applaud it. Teenage girls can love sex and not be ‘little minxes’ or ‘sluts’. Who knew? I want more of this.
I wrote a play in 2018 called 3Women, with an 18-year-old girl in it, and I wanted the same for her. Writing her dialogue, when she’s talking about how much she loves sex, was such a thrill. I thought of Baby throughout. When she shouts that immortal line to Johnny as they argue about their fate – ‘Most of all, I’m scared of leaving this room and never feeling again, my whole life, the way I feel when I’m with you’ – I think I knew, even as a young girl, that she meant sex – there’s unfinished business here, and Baby could surely sense it was building to something wonderful. It’s a cry of lust, as much as it is one of love.
Johnny clearly has no idea of the sheer power he possesses here. He blinks back at her, bewildered. But he has had this effect on women before, so it shouldn’t come as too
