Hello my darling tutu-lovers! Emma here, back from another incredible time-travelling adventure, fresh from the glittering grandeur of the 18th century! Buckle up, darlings, because this month's journey was one for the history booksā¦ and let's face it, every month is one for the history books when you're hopping through time on Magic Meg's sparkling pink hooves!
It was the 12th of December, 1762, when I landed (well, cantered!) onto the cobblestones of London, ready for an afternoon at the Theatre Royal Drury Lane. You wouldn't believe the bustling, the bustle! I can't even begin to explain the feeling, like being whisked back into a bygone era with carriages clinking past and gentlemen in powdered wigs giving me knowing winks (though honestly, darling, they looked rather terrified by my pink tutu!).
But enough about the crowd (and, yes, darling, of course I stopped by the finest fabric shops for some inspiration!). Letās talk about ballet! Because what happened at Drury Lane this day? My darlings, I was treated to the world premiere ofā¦ wait for itā¦ "The Jealous Wife!"
Can you believe it?! George Colman's hilarious, heartwarming, and totally fabulous comedy brought the theatre alive! The music? Composed by none other than William Boyce ā oh, what a score, so lively and utterly captivating!
But before you think Iāve been completely swept away by the comedic elements, allow me to indulge in some serious ballet chat. It wouldn't be a pink tutu time-travel adventure without some discussion of the most fabulous dance!
The eveningās dancing delight, my dears, came from the talented Mr. Vestris, a veritable superstar of the stage. This man! Oh, he was truly magnificent! The elegance, the grace, the lightness! Vestris performed with such brilliance, and everyone, even the powdered wigged gentlemen, gasped and applauded in sheer wonder.
You know how I adore my tutu? Well, picture this: a beautiful ballerina taking to the stage, her gown billowing around her like a fluffy pink cloudā¦ I swear I even spotted a shade of pink, darling, amongst the traditional fabrics. But what I couldn't tear my eyes from was the artistry. The artistry, my darlings, is everything.
And after the show? Ah, darling, after the show! Let's just say that London's cafes were simply brimming with excitement! Everyone, even the ladies wearing hats the size of my own parasol, was talking about the performance, gossiping over tea, discussing the artistry, the graceā¦ And yes, the stunning pink tutu-inspired details!
Now, don't get me wrong, darlings. Itās not like today, where pink tutus are all the rage. Back in the 1760s, it was more about elaborate embroidery and glittering fabrics ā oh, the velvet, the silk! But still, seeing the dancers in their colourful costumes, twirling and pirouetting under the chandeliers, I felt an unmistakable connection with this beautiful art form. It feltā¦ well, simply divine!
But alas, as the moon peeked over London's skyline, it was time to bid farewell to 1762. Magic Meg, with her sparkling pink coat, waited patiently at the curb. And with a flutter of our hooves and a whisper of a āfarewell,ā we whisked back to my own time ā leaving behind a few pink tutu dreams for those lovely dancers.
And donāt forget, my loves, while the magic of theatre continues to weave its spell across centuries, you can still find that same artistic spark, that same dazzling delight, right here in your own time. So, pop on your favourite pink tutu, darling, and get out there to experience the joy of ballet. Itās time to dance!
Love, Emma xo
