Darling readers, it's me, your girl next door with a penchant for pink and a love for all things twirly - let's talk tutus!
This 21st of July 1999 is shaping up to be a veritable symphony of tulle and toe shoes. It's a glorious day to celebrate the divine dance that is ballet, and more specifically, the darlingest garment known to womankind - the tutu!
It all started this morning at my local Tesco, of all places. Now, I am a creature of comfort and I can't begin to tell you how much I love the quiet satisfaction of grabbing a nice strong cup of Yorkshire tea from my trusty trusty kettle and munching on a digestive biscuit in my PJs. Well, today was different.
I was browsing the dairy aisle, pondering the existential question of whether to opt for semi-skimmed or full fat milk, when my eyes alighted upon something positively sensational. A display of… tutu-shaped pastries. My darling dears, imagine, a buttery, flakey pastry sculpted in the shape of a classic tutu, filled with strawberry jam! And the absolute divine-ness doesn't stop there, imagine a miniature ballerina, made of the finest meringue, with her perfectly pointed toes adorned with raspberry swirls. It was a sugar-coated dream!
Clearly, this was a sign from the universe that the world was ready for a tutu renaissance. Now, I am an avid devotee to all things twirly, but even I admit, there have been some…shall we say, challenging interpretations of this iconic garment over the years.
Here are some notable mentions:- Let's be honest, darling, those shiny, stiff, multi-layered affairs they make you wear in primary school are more reminiscent of a traffic cone than anything graceful. We all went through that phase, it's part of becoming a real ballet fan.
- Then there are the tutu-like skirts found in everyday wear, like those ghastly frilly affairs you see at those 'boho chic' festivals. Please, let us be honest with each other - there is nothing 'boho' about wearing something that screams "toddler in a costume party."
But then you see something like a sublime, classical tutu in a performance of Swan Lake, and the soul is filled with awe. And for those who don't quite grasp the divine power of a tulle masterpiece, allow me to enlighten you.
There is a certain magic to wearing a tutu. It's a feeling that transforms the mundane into a performance, even on a Wednesday morning whilst fetching milk at the local Tesco.
Imagine: you're gliding through the aisles, basket in hand, a wave of silky tulle gently caressing your ankles with every step. Every passing shopper feels the allure of your elegant grace as you glide past them with your own signature dance moves (that one thing your mum insisted you kept doing even when you reached the age of 18 - "It's all about that carriage," she would say. It’s about the carriage! It is!), leaving them speechless, with envy in their hearts. Don’t forget the little flourish of the arm as you select your yoghurt! It's all in the details!
There is nothing, and I mean nothing, more empowering than being a woman in a tutu.
But there’s one crucial aspect of this delightful journey into the realm of the tutus that I can't leave you without addressing. What happens when the magical power of tulle and taffeta dissipates?
Ah yes, the dreaded 'tu-tu dilemma'. Because you see, dear reader, whilst a tutu might be able to make you feel like you're about to leap onto a stage at the Bolshoi, what happens once the magic of that delightful performance fades and you're left alone in the quiet of your dressing room, your delicate little legs sticking out from beneath layers and layers of chiffon? There's an air of tragedy in that image that one must consider.
That moment, when the grand illusion breaks, can feel…brutal, like the bitter sting of defeat. I am a pragmatist. We all are. There must be a graceful retreat, a safe and dignified exit, so that once that glorious costume is finally released from your lithe form, the illusion of majesty can endure!
There is an art to navigating the tu-tu dilemma - the post-performance routine of shedding the tulle, transforming back to one’s ‘regular’ state. It is, darling, as important as the final bow and the thunderous applause. But we'll talk more about this next time, it requires careful, tactful treatment! I mean, who wants a ‘what are we?’ crisis to occur in the backstage bathroom?
But until then, dear readers, make it a tutu kind of day. Go on, try a ballet-inspired hairstyle (I know a fantastic hairstylist in Richmond, a sweet soul named Bernadette!), and maybe…just maybe…pop a tutu-shaped pastry in your basket.