Waltz, foxtrot, tango, cha cha, tea and Victoria sponge. These are the elements that make up the Tea Dance at the Old Finsbury Town Hall. Ben Doulton and Don’t Panic photographer Oliver Longmore went down to learn the moves.

The entrance is choked to the rafters with teenagers in leotards rushing in and out of doors and the madness is all consuming. A few roguish elements threaten to disrupt general proceedings but security is on hand and things are soon put in order. We are escorted up the staircase to the comparative oasis of calm of The Great Hall and into the magical world of the Tea Dance.

Established over the last few months by Vic from Art of the Dog and the people at Ragroof Theatre, The Tea Dance is a community minded affair that aims to enhance the lives of those living in the locality. Born in Brighton, Ragroof put on dance shows and decided to interview many of the resident elders and aficionados in order to gain knowledge of the various disciplines involved and to learn about the culture surrounding them. This proved to be extremely constructive and by way of thanks, Ragroof put on a tea dance for them to take part in.

Much impressed by a Brighton performance, Vic was soon in touch on behalf of Art of the Dog, whose sole purpose is to bring interesting and affordable entertainment to local people of all ages with a special inclination towards the older generation. She came upon the idea of putting on a tea dance at Finsbury Town Hall in conjunction with Ragroof so that the local people of Islington could get the chance to return to its Grand Hall. Built in 1895 this grand setting is where we first catch a glimpse of proceedings.

With Desert Ivan Disks spinning big band swing on the decks there is a foxtrot lesson underway supervised by the incomparable Dorothy Shoes. People of all ages have taken to the dance floor and are exhibiting their mixed talents. The next moment, after having downed a gin and tonic, I find myself hauled into the fray by an enthusiastic punter and struggle to get on with the basics of the dance. I’m rubbish but it doesn’t matter. Must get to work, where's Oliver? Over on the other side of the hall dancing with Rebecca, who has developed a soft spot for the photographer. I get about the task of interviewing.

First off I meet the lovely Rene, 80, who tells me tales of dancing in the blitz. I ask her what happened when there was an air raid during a ball. "Well we just carried on dancing dear." And if there was a blackout on the way home they all linked arms and walked in a straight line across the road, two people on either end holding torches.

Next I meet Dorothy Pine, 76. She's been dancing since she was a teenager. When asked about whether or not she minds having children at the dance she says that she doesn't like falling on them. She goes to many dances around London and now that she has a freedom pass she can go to all of them for free.

When Dorothy was dancing in the forties, etiquette necessitated that boys line up on one side of the hall and girls on the other. If a boy saw a girl that he fancied he would walk across the hall and ask her to dance. If she then refused he would have to take the long walk back empty handed with everybody in the room knowing him to be a reject.

For the ugly girls life was even harder. They would often never get asked to dance and as a result spent much of their time leaning against the wall utterly humiliated. These poor unfortunates were thus labelled Wallflowers.

At three o'clock everybody sits at their table for tea and cake. The event is marked with a dynamic Charleston performed by Ragroof in butler and maid's costumes. This is followed by the delivery of provisions on trolleys. During tea I meet Harry, 87. He's been dancing since he was nineteen. His favourite dance is the jive because of its pace, although he admits he's not really up to it anymore.

At the Tea Dance at the Old Finsbury Town Hall you will find great people of all ages. It is highly recommended. Go get drunk, drink tea, eat cake and dance.

Visit Ragroof for more information.