Oti Mabuse
As Strictly’s sequins, spectacle and scandal return to brighten the bleakest of British midwinters, all eyes are on the show’s reigning champion professional, Oti Mabuse. But beyond the megawatt smile and sizzling samba moves, how well do you know her?
The reigning Strictly champion opens up about success, self-improvement and the infamous ‘Strictly curse’
Oti Mabuse’s morning schedule would leave most wellness-conscious celebs reaching for lavender essential oil and a high-potency CBD. ‘I was up at three in the morning today and just started working. I get like that when I’m in work mode: when I’m really going for it… Sometimes, I’ll start working at two in the morning and then I’ll go back to bed and start working again at 8am,’ she pauses. ‘I’ve always been like that – it just means that I’m in my zone.’ If anyone else told me they were putting in so many pre-dawn hours, it might sound alarm bells; but as Oti describes her too-excited-to-sleep enthusiasm for the industry in which she’s grafted to succeed, it’s clear this is a woman who’s found her calling. In a year when no one really seems to be thriving; when energies are as faded as your go-to WFH leggings, Oti is alive, fully charged and – as I soon learn – continuing to grab life by the proverbials.
It was an energy in evidence as she bounced around our shoot, at a studio in North London, belting out Beyoncé songs and playing dress-up with our rail of colour-blocking brights. I wasn’t at the shoot (thanks, Covid), so it’s a couple of weeks later when we meet, on Zoom. She’s swapped the neon Lycra for a baggy T-shirt, but as we talk about her plans, her eyes exhibit that trademark glitterball sparkle, and a playful smile never dances far from her mouth. This afternoon, there’s another reason to feel excited. It’s the eve of her thirtieth birthday. In normal times, her celebrations might have involved more than six people, but she’s looking forward to a low-key day with her husband – Romanian dancer Marius Iepure, 38 – a handful of friends and some tea. I ask her how she’s feeling about the big 3-0. ‘I’ve ticked off a lot of things that I wanted to do before 30, so I’m happy,’ she says, of a truly dazzling achievements list. Among the most recent goals with a large tick against them are winning Strictly, which she did last year with Emmerdale star Kelvin Fletcher, launching her own dance studio and landing her own UK tour. Then again, she’s working when the rest of us are still deep in REM.
Oti’s eye-watering work ethic, drive and dancer’s discipline seem to be paying off. Her first solo tour, which was announced in June, is all the more prized because there have been so many hurdles to jump over on her path to realising it. ‘So many times, you’re told that women can’t sell tours,’ she says, exasperation evident. ‘This, for me, is such a big thing. Gosh, why am I getting emotional?’ She pauses. ‘Because it’s not true... women can sell tours; we can be alone; we can be strong and powerful.’ Happily, the penny dropped within the dance world and, next year (Covid restrictions allowing), I Am Here will hit stages across the UK. The title is a translation of ‘Oti’ from Setswana, commonly spoken in South Africa – it’s set to be a whirlwind celebration of the melting pot of influences that make Oti who she is; telling the story of her life via traditional South African dance styles, as well as sambas and jives.
While a millennial woman telling her life story only months after her thirtieth birthday might make some people’s eyeballs trace the outline of their sockets, Oti has amassed an impressive amount of material in her life to date. She grew up in the South African city of Pretoria in a noisy house full of ambitious women, laughter and music. She doesn’t remember the first time she slipped her tiny feet into dancing shoes, but she was a natural in both the technical and performance aspects of her craft. Dance – always ballroom and Latin – became an integral part of Oti’s early life, but not even winning the South African Latin American Championships was enough to divert her from her academic path, and she enrolled at Tshwane University in
‘I was so determined to do something new – it would have felt so much worse if I’d not gone after my dream’
her home town to study civil engineering. But – plot twist – it didn’t feel ‘right’; so, aged 20, Oti abandoned the prospect of a steady career to board a plane to Germany and chase her goal of becoming a world-class dancer – a route her sister Motsi (who replaced Darcey Bussell as a judge on Strictly in 2019) was already pursuing.
‘It was hard leaving that environment and what felt familiar,’ she recalls. ‘But I was so determined to do something new... it would have felt so much worse if I’d not gone after my dream.’ Her gamble paid off; Oti scooped prizes at national, European and global Latin dance competitions and, in 2015, she joined the professional squads of both Strictly Come Dancing and its German equivalent, Let’s Dance. While crushing it professionally, she met Marius at a dance trial in Germany. (‘There was an instant attraction. Right away.’) They married a year later in 2014 and melded their flux-laden, globe-trotting dancers’ lives together. ‘I’ve shown him that it’s okay to have a little bit of fun – and to relax and be a bit childlike, and [he’s helped] me mature into being a bit more disciplined and punctual.’ She pauses. ‘I’m still working on the punctual part.’
Before this year, Oti and Marius were rarely in the same country at the same time – hopping between bases in London and Nuremberg, with conflicting work commitments and international tours – but all that changed in March. Looking back, she appreciates the little things – having a conversation over breakfast or dancing around the house – as well as the time it gave her to work on herself. ‘I was going to the gym at the beginning of the
‘You can’t control what people think – but you can control what you do and how you react to it’
year – swimming and running and [lifting] weights. And then we had lockdown.’ Not content to let her strength gains slide,
Oti stocked up on weights, resistance bands and a skipping rope, and ended up becoming more active than ever from home. ‘In normal times, I’d work out two times per week, but in lockdown we were working out pretty much every day,’ she recalls. Part of her lockdown schedule was given over to the dance classes she and Marius streamed from their living room for adults (Dirty Dancing, Kids In America, Taylor Swift’s Shake It Off) and kids (The Lion King, Moana and – naturally – Frozen). Side note: the next time you’re feeling flat, search for their Mamma Mia video on Youtube and try not to feel better (you can’t). When they weren’t dancing around their living room together, Oti and Marius were doing their own HIIT classes. They sound gruelling: bicep curls for sleek, shapely arms and goblet squats and lunges for strong glutes, powerful hamstrings and the sculpted lower half that’s the aesthetic hallmark of a dancer’s body. The strength sets would be interspersed with fourminute bursts on a treadmill or assault bike. Oh, then there were PT sessions on Zoom with trainer Sam Barron to ensure Oti kept pushing her limits. But if you feel exhausted just reading that, these are basically rest days compared with the 12-hour shifts she puts in six times a week for Strictly, which will have kicked off by the time you’re reading this.
Regular workouts have also led to an evolved approach to nutrition. She’s flirted with vegetarianism and veganism in the past, but neither have stuck. ‘I think it’s being South African,’ she laughs. ‘A typical meal [in South Africa] will be like meat on meat on meat with a side of meat.’ That she’s eating more vegetables these days – salad and rice accompany her protein source at lunch; grilled chicken is served with broccoli come dinnertime – is down to Marius, whose good influence extends to her nutrition. And while she’s cut down on sugar and salt to help with water retention, the intense Strictly schedule means she’s not going to worry about finishing a long day with a pizza. ‘When you’re working that much, food becomes your comfort,’ she says. ‘There’s so much work and so much stress – you’re not always conscious of what you’re eating, it’s more that you know you need to keep going.’ Many cups of coffee and protein bars help, too.
While some defining events from 2020 led to new opportunities for Oti to elevate the way she looks after her body, others have weighed heavily on her mind. The tragic death of George Floyd at the hands of the Minneapolis police force prompted a global outcry over racism and police brutality in May. The story hit home for someone born under apartheid. ‘My origin is South Africa… even saying that, you just
know, right? You feel it in the air there,’ she sighs. The incident – and conversations that followed – made her reflect on representation within her own industry. One thing Oti is especially tired of is seeing Black women portrayed one dimensionally in TV and film. She applauds the Netflix TV drama
Hollywood, which features a Black actress who soars to success, winning an Oscar despite facing adversity. ‘You see someone who looks like you with big full lips, and she’s not shown as “the angry Black woman”,’ she says. ‘She’s the one who works hard, she’s ambitious, she gets what she wants and that’s just amazing to see. We’re not always angry – we’re vulnerable and we have emotions,’ she says. She tells me she’s proud of the diversity on Strictly, as it’s a reflection of what the nation looks like. ‘When
I look at the shows I’ve worked for, they’ve been so diverse. On Strictly, we have 17 professional dancers who all look completely different; they represent something unique, with [dancers] from Australia, New York, South Africa and China. I’m proud that we have that representation.’
Her passion for the programme she calls home is genuine. And yet, working on the show undoubtedly comes with baggage beyond the gruelling 12-hour days. I’m thinking, of course, of the Strictly curse. You know, the theory that ‘doing Strictly’ is a death knell for romantic unions, evidenced by 15 (and counting) incidents where solidly coupled up celebrity or pro dancers have ditched their IRL other half in favour of their producer-picked dance partner. It’s a narrative the nation is so invested in that every couple with the kind of visible chemistry you need to claim the glitterball trophy will be plagued by speculation about something more going on behind the scenes. Such was the case last year, when the very rumbas and jives that helped Oti and
Kelvin take the Strictly crown also kept the tabloid rumour mill in business until at least February. ‘Everyone’s going to have an opinion. You can’t control what people think or say, but what you can control is what you do and how you react to it,’ she says. ‘If you concentrate on outside energies, that’s literally what’s going to affect you. But I just try to do my job; it’s all about tunnel vision.’
Such a perspective has been hard-won, the result of a commitment to self-development – particularly the more challenging aspects, such as regulating her emotions and confronting issues rather than complaining about them. Her favourite mindset mentor is US life coach and motivational speaker Tony Robbins, whose approach is more tough talk than cosy reassurance, and which Oti plugs into – via his podcast – whenever she’s not feeling her best. ‘It keeps me in check and makes tough situations a little less tough and [helps me] approach them with a little more awareness,’ she explains. ‘And I think once you’re aligned – your head and your mind and your heart and your soul – then you can feel good, then you can be creative. And my job relies on me to be strong and to definitely be creative.’ She’s honed an equally pragmatic approach to criticism, even when it smarts – which it does when comments centre on things she values, like her choreography. ‘I think, sometimes, when it stings, you have to consider why it stings,’ she reflects. ‘Does it sting because it’s not true or does it sting because it’s something you think about yourself but is something that you don’t want other people to say? Or is it someone being outright mean?’ If it’s one of the first two, she’ll listen, analyse the situation as part of her daily journalling session and extract the lessons worth learning. But if it’s the latter? ‘Blocka blocka blocka,’ she chuckles, quoting a meme by Egyptian comedian Radwa El-sherbiny. ‘I just mute them. I don’t have time for it.’ Smart, strong, self-aware: from this showstopper, the best is yet to come.
Tickets for Oti’s UK tour, I Am Here, are on sale now at otimabuse.com