Born in 1943 in Prestwich, Greater Manchester, Arlene Phillips is one of the UK’s best-known choreographers. She spent her childhood immersed in dance classes, before moving to London to found Hot Gossip – a dance troupe both celebrated and castigated for their raunchy choreography on series such as The Kenny Everett Video Show. Phillips’s career expanded into stage and music, and she choreographed the musicals Starlight Express and Grease, as well as videos including Private Dancer by Tina Turner, The Wild Boys by Duran Duran and I Was Born To Love You by Freddie Mercury. She was a judge on Strictly Come Dancing from 2004 to 2008 and has since written children’s books, appeared on I’m A Celebrity and was awarded a damehood in 2021. Phillips co-created and directs House of Flamenka at the Peacock theatre in London from 17-28 October.
This photo was taken while I was choreographing Village People’s musical comedy film Can’t Stop the Music. I’m dressed in a simple red leotard with my red lips and hair. From the moment I first saw a bottle of Crazy Colour dye it changed my life – my hair went from pinks to purples, to turquoises and reds. I loved the way it turned out so vibrant, almost neon. The image captures a turning point. I was travelling the world doing auditions for the film, but I had also just discovered I was pregnant with my first child [Phillips has two daughters, Alana and Abi]. I was about to start work on one of the most lavish and crazy Hollywood movies of all time, yet I was preparing for a massive physical and mental adjustment.
Despite the magnitude of the situation, I wasn’t worried about my career. I knew there would be a hiatus when the movie shifted location from filming in New York to Los Angeles, so I asked Allan Carr, its producer, if I could withdraw for a short time so I could have my baby. He said: “Of course. We’ll arrange everything for you.” They absolutely did. The team got me a guru who stayed by my side and helped me meditate so I felt calm while we were travelling, and once Alana was born – she was breech so I had a caesarean – I had a nanny and a Winnebago and could go back to work after two weeks. My baby was always close by, so I could look after her. It was an extraordinary time. Giving birth to Alana gave me an immense outpouring of joy that I’d never known before. It was incredible and it altered me massively. From that moment on, I was filled with a new kind of love.
When Hot Gossip started in 1974 we performed in clubs and became the darlings of the beautiful people. The models and the film stars all loved us. The TV industry was less keen and deemed us “too sexy” for the screen. It wasn’t until we were booked to do the Kenny Everett show that everything changed. We were on the cover of every newspaper. Hot Gossip had well and truly exploded. Even so, I still found it remarkable that an English choreographer and her random, different group of dancers were descending in LA to be part of Can’t Stop the Music, but I think we offered something new and different. The film is now regarded as one of the worst musicals on film, but the months I spent working on it were a glimpse at the world as I’d never known it before. From the places we got to stay in, to the cars and private jets, we were living a dream life. Allan hosted Hollywood discos every night. It was so far away from my childhood in Prestwich.
I started ballet lessons when I was three. My parents loved culture, and even though we had very little money, they took me to see a Russian ballet at the Free Trade Hall in Manchester when I was very young. After that, I knew that dance was all I wanted to do. It was all I could think about. As I got older, I assumed I would become a dance teacher at schools, as I couldn’t leave home: my mother passed away when I was 15, and I had a younger sister and my dad was of ill health. It was a tough life but deep down was this drive to do what I wanted to do. I had an inner determination.
As a child, I remember seeing a girl who lived down the road in a pair of black leather patent shoes. I thought they were the most beautiful things I’d ever seen and I wanted them so badly, but my parents wouldn’t be able to afford them. I knew even back then that I needed to engineer my life to become the type of person that was a “has”, and not a “has not”.
I felt that tension at school, too: I was low in the pecking order when it came to academia. I had a constant feeling I would get left behind. I realised I was going to have to fight my way to become a success.
Since then, I have had so many career highlights. It’s my job to be calm and secure – inspiring people with confidence to move. Some artists are not interested, but it’s finding that twinkle; that encouragement and connection. When you get that, you’re free.
Freddie Mercury was incredible for this. He had ideas and wanted for you to be part of a collaboration. His aim was to be daring, adventurous and to push boundaries. He was such a positive spirit. Being in a room with him was like a firework popping off around the studio. It was like working with an enigma.
There have been challenging moments, too. I was absolutely passionate about being on Strictly Come Dancing. I was one of the original judges, and I was even in the pilot with Len Goodman. The show held something very special in my heart, so when my contract wasn’t renewed that was a real blow.
What made it harder was that I had suffered a loss just before. My wonderful manager had died, the person who had looked after my career from the start and who saw Hot Gossip dancing in a club one night and wanted to get behind us when nobody else did. Having the immense loss of someone I loved, and the loss of a job that I loved, happening concurrently was a real low.
I often get asked for advice by young people who want to pursue a job in theatre and musicals. The thing that I always say – rather than be passionate and work hard – is that you need to get used to facing rejection. You will feel it every day of your life in this industry. Give yourself 48 hours, cry and sob, but get it out of your system.
With great difficulty, at the end of Strictly, I realised I’d have to take my own advice. I had to pull my head together and think: “You had a career before. And it will continue.” I gave myself a moment and then got back on my feet.
When I look back at this image I see it as a moment of change and upheaval, but also of happiness and certainty. I knew I was one of the most fortunate people in the world. I knew I would have my child, and that I would keep her by my side. She would be the most important part of my existence and we would go on to travel the world together. It was, and still is, a pretty fantastic life.
