Ironic, iconic or chronic? All the latest dance crazes ebb and flow in waves. Whether it be the Running Man, Gangnam Style, twerking, slutdrops – you name it. Somehow, each move is more cringe-worthy than the last. After the legendary Whip and Nae Nae we were all curious to know the latest move about to plague our dancefloors.
But the latest move would not stay confined to drunken dancefloor stumbles at 2am. It would impact our day-to-day lives. This craze is the one and only ‘dab’: a manoeuvre likened to an aggressive sniff of the armpit, which swept across the world in a ‘dabtastic’ revolution. The dab stormed its way into politics, sports, Saturday morning TV shows, your office job, children’s playgrounds… Over the past two years, the dab has been inescapable.
Regrettably, I was once fond of the odd dab. A dab-addict, if you will. One particularly messy night, I recall shouting, ruddy and panting, at a policeman to dab with me through the window of The Crafty Scholar – that’s right, I bellowed at an officer of the law to join me in this degrading ritual.
I awoke, the next morning, groggy and brimming with shame and decided once and for all this nonsense had to stop. A dab-detox was in order and I’ve been clean ever since. I saw the light that day and now I know this revolution must be halted in its tracks before it is too late.
There are many dangers in a dabber’s life. The whiplash alone, from one night of vigorous dabbing, is enough to put you in a neck brace for a minimum of two weeks. Not only that, but the highly-concentrated speed of the dab means that if the proper precautions are not taken, people in your company are swatted across the face as you strike the infamous pose. Dabbing not only hurts yourself, but has the potential to hurt those standing next to you: if not bodily, then through intense humiliation as you make a mockery of yourself.
So, what is to be done? We must act now. The dab is a move that thrives on peer pressure: we must resist and learn to say, ‘No, I will not dab to that!’ Rise above your peers, and resist the urge when the dab is at its most tempting, such as after a successful sports trick or to celebrate your exam results.
Dabbing has had its day and its time is running out. We must allow it to bow out gracefully instead of dragging the nightmare on any longer. Let it live on only in the form of your inebriated dads dancing at wedding after-parties: the retirement home equivalent for all outdated dance moves.
