How I get ready to rumba: Pamela Stephenson reveals how she's poked, pulled, wrenched and zipped into her dazzling Strictly outfits ~ Salsa Circuit latin news| salsa music| salsa dance

1 READY FOR MY CLOSE-UP? NOT YET!

As an archetypal mental health professional (habitat: New York) I am no parading
peacock.

Pallid of skin, short of lash and nail, business-like of dress and sensible of shoe, I’m afraid I tend to shun lipstick, cleavage, and even facial waxing.

My wardrobe comprises a row of neat and modest suits in black, grey and navy, with high-necked shirts. There is no need for complicated under-garments; a rather large pair of plain, stretchy knickers cover my ample backside, while a sturdy ‘reduction bra’ keeps my puppies well hidden, to avoid inciting arousal in curious onlookers.

Note the broken spectacles. This Doctor of Psychology is surely the least likely Strictly candidate one could ever imagine (well, bar a politician or two).

Despite all this, I was persuaded that the best colour for my soon-to-be-televised skin was a lovely shade of bright orange. I’m now addicted to the process.

Achieving a spray tan involves removing every stitch of clothing, donning a paper shower cap and stepping into a misting booth.

One is then instructed to adopt several yoga-like poses as a woman welding a spray gun lets fly an icy stream of tanning mist in well-aimed sweeps.

I woke in the morning to an acrid smell and wondered if my husband had left his socks in the toaster again – only to be reminded (by my sunset-stained sheets) that I had bypassed five days’ holiday in Minorca and cut straight to the plane ride home.

2 IS THIS BRUCIE’S?

Since my natural crowning glory is a tad thin these days, Neal the gifted hair artist (and polo-player to boot!) magically boosts nature’s strands by clipping in ‘wefts’ to provide all the extra body and growth a would-be siren could want.

He curls and crimps both real and fake strands and pushes me off to a camera rehearsal with a delightfully attractive headscarf holding my curlered hair in place.

Being seen in public in such headgear is entirely humiliating, but this action is specially designed to take anyone who starts to believe her own publicity down quite a few pegs.

This is harsh treatment indeed, especially since I suspect that my long blonde hair might be my sole redeeming physical feature.

3 MAKING UP IS HARD TO DO

Bryony the queen of all make-up artists has designed my facial look based on the ‘Fred and Ginger’ style of this week’s foxtrot.

Bryony is blessed with considerable talent, but, given the raw material, she needs several hours and a few stiff drinks to accomplish this miracle.

She turns my eyes from what have been described as ‘little peepholes in the snow’ into the cats’ eyes we have come to expect of a Strictly glamourpuss.

She builds layer upon layer of light and shade – a work of art of which Caravaggio, Monet, even Rembrandt, would be proud. Grey brow strands are darkened, stray facial hairs removed.

False lashes are applied both above and below the eyes – one, two, three at a time.

4 UNDERCOVER STORY

Reader beware: those with weak stomachs may want to skip this section. A health-and-safety warning is also issued: DON’T TRY THIS AT HOME!

First I don the smallest of G-strings. (Steady on people, it only gets worse.)

I then step into a pair of too-small support tights and wrench every last ounce of cellulite firmly inside.
Another pair of tights – fishnets if it is a Latin dance, plain if it’s ballroom – goes on after that.

The waistbands of both pairs of tights are snipped at the waist to avoid the ‘muffin-top’ look I so oft-sport, especially when wearing jeans (weekends only).

5 AN ODD PLACE FOR A MIC

You may wonder why there has been no mention of an upper foundation garment.

It’s because my bra is welded to the main costume, and comes complete with microphone battery-pack inside one cup. ‘It has to be the right side,’ insists Sue, my dresser – but neither of us can figure out why.

The presence of the microphone pack in the right cup means that a large wodge of foam has to be strategically positioned inside the left one to even things up.

The actual microphone head is tiny, flesh-coloured, and peeps out of the cup like a mushroom-like wart.

A nice look in close-up.

6 HILDA OGDEN, READY FOR HER FOXTROT

It's time for the lovely green curlers to come out as Neal completes his artistry, finishing my hairdo with pins, combs and, occasionally, hair accessories such as jewelled bands, rhinestone clips or satin bows.

My scuba-diving skills are utilised when it comes to holding my breath for the hair spray, which takes several minutes. No naked flames, please.

7 INTO THE MOTHERSHIP

Knickers are always sewn inside Strictly dresses (these costumes are all-singing, all-dancing, and could actually do the show all by themselves).

I step carefully inside the mothership and, after a certain amount of poking, pulling and twisting, am zipped in as snugly as a sofa in a newly washed cover.

Breathing is optional.

8 THE GLOVES ARE ON

Accessories are applied – earrings, necklaces and long black gloves with elastic on the middle fingers to keep them in place.

‘Floats’ may be added if required.

They’re the scarf-like pieces of fabric that are draped from arm to waist in order to waft gracefully behind the dancer (for some unfortunate contestants they become the blinkers caught around the head during a spinning accident – not for the faint-hearted).

9 MANY A SLIP

I put on my ballroom shoes.

The soles must be brushed to avoid slipping. Sequins cause slippery surfaces, and there are plenty of those lying about, so frequent brushing is required.

Some dancers use castor oil – not for the good of their health, but to coat the soles of their shoes for a better grip.

Frankly, I’m confused by all this high-tech stuff and tend to leave my fate to the banana-skin gods.

10 THE FINISHING TOUCHES

My cleavage is enhanced with highlighter and shade as Bryony does the finishing touches.

She can create a chiselled siren from a pepperoni pizza face in a mere
90 minutes.

Foundation is applied with a spatula, the best bet for covering blotches, blackheads and wrinkles. My arm tone is evened out, my old-lady brown spots are covered, my nails are painted (the one I chewed after last week’s judges’ comments is replaced with a fake).

Nearly five hours after the process started, I am ready to dance for 12 million people.

The only question now: How do I get out of this thing?