Hello my lovelies! Welcome back to Pink-Tutu.com, your one-stop shop for all things ballet, pink and, of course, time travel! It’s your favourite Derbyshire ballerina, Emma, here, and I'm absolutely giddy to be back in my time-traveling tutu, ready for a whirl through history.
This month, we’re going right back to 1713, a time of elegant powdered wigs and extravagant courtly dances. And believe me, you're not going to believe the ballet buzz happening then! Grab your sparkly hair clips, a cuppa and settle in, because this is a real treat.
Now, for a time traveler with a love for tutus like mine, you’d think pink was a guaranteed staple in every era, but in 1713? Not so much! Back then, pink was considered more masculine, reserved for military uniforms. Imagine my disappointment, standing in my beloved pink tutu and looking like I'd landed on a battlefield! But don’t you worry, I still had my time-traveling fun, which I think we all know is a pink tutu’s true calling.
To be honest, it was rather lovely seeing ballet history unfold without the added layer of my pink tutu grabbing the attention, allowing me to just be part of the crowd. I rode Magic Meg through the streets of London, where the grand houses with their elegant interiors seemed to pulse with a sort of restrained excitement.
At Covent Garden, the newly constructed opera house, a certain Mr. John Rich, (his name rings a bell, don’t you think?), had a grand performance planned for the evening. And not just any performance! It was a ballett, you see! Back in these times, the word "ballett" was a bit more flexible, like a cross between a theatrical spectacle and a ballet you might see today.
What I witnessed was simply glorious! Dancers and singers, acrobats and musicians, all taking to the stage in costumes that were like paintings come to life, glittering with sequins and silks. The play was a thing of beauty – stories danced out, emotions acted through graceful movement and breathtaking poses. You wouldn’t even guess that ballet as we know it had only recently emerged in France. In fact, at the end, as I took a final bow in my mind, I felt so grateful to be witnessing these early foundations of a genre I adore so deeply.
Speaking of dance and delight, the thing that really caught my eye was the Chaconne, a type of dance that really steals the show. Think about a powerful, repetitive movement, with grand sweeping gestures, each repeated section a new chapter in the story of the dance. You could practically feel the rhythm flowing throughout the entire building! The way it was performed by these dancers - oh, the graceful turns, the flowing jumps! A real showcase of artistry. And the music? I’m no music expert, but I felt it resonate through every bone in my body, like an ancient energy pulling me in.
Even after the performance, as I made my way home, my head still spinning from the magic I'd seen, the vibrant dance lingered in my mind. The people, their elegant hats and long dresses and suits, whispered about the show. This energy – the power of the performance - was in the air.
You see, my darlings, what I’ve realized is that even though my time travel is my ultimate passion, my true mission lies in celebrating ballet in all its forms. My journey here, seeing ballet evolve, makes me so happy to know I am a tiny part of a magnificent lineage. It fills my pink tutu-loving heart with joy, knowing my ballet time travel journey is a celebration of its unique story.
For those of you planning your own journeys through time, let me tell you a little about this time: London was a bustling city, filled with fashionable souls who, it seemed, knew the very latest in the dance scene. If you were going to go out, you'd dress in silks and velvet and powdered wigs. Gentlemen often wore elaborate stockings and shoes, which I, quite frankly, found rather alluring.
As for my dear Meg, she revelled in all the hustle and bustle, a beautiful vision in pink, attracting admiring glances wherever she went. Now, this wasn't easy – imagine a time when the streets were cobblestones and carriages had pride of place, not pink, sparkly shire horses. But she handled it all with the grace of a dancer and the strength of a thousand ballerinas. And every time a well-dressed gentlemen tipped their hat, I swear Meg, with a wink, swished her tail and tossed her golden mane!
So, as we take our farewells, I leave you with a pink promise. Ballet, it seems, is timeless! Whether it’s the Chaconne in the 18th century or a contemporary performance today, its core – its artistic beauty and emotive power - is eternally relevant. And who knows, perhaps one day, I’ll return to a future world where the men of society wear pink tutus!
Now, off to fill my backpack with some early 18th-century ballet fashion, because let’s be honest, there's no such thing as too much pink tutu-inspiration, no matter the century. Until next time, darlings!
P.S: You can see some of my time-traveling treasures on my Instagram @pinktututimetraveler. Keep those pink tutu dreams coming, and don't forget, there's a sprinkle of ballet magic waiting for you, right around the corner.
Love and twirls,
Emma
xx
