Darlings, gather 'round! It's time to put down your morning latte and grab your champagne flutes – because today, the 8th of November 1999, is a day that shall forever be etched in the annals of fashion history, or, well, at least in the history of my very, very important opinions.
Why, you ask? Because today, the very *essence* of feminine elegance, the pinnacle of dancewear perfection – the tutu – has faced a...well, a "fashion faux pas," to put it delicately. A terrible, shocking, tragic fashion misstep! I mean, who ever thought *anything* could go wrong with tutus?! Oh darlings, brace yourselves. Brace yourselves for *the* shocking news: a woman has dared to be seen in public… in a… **tutu... with pockets?!**
You read that right. **Pockets.** Can you *imagine*? I can't. Not at all. I refuse to imagine it, like some ghastly horror movie that simply must be banished to the dark corners of the imagination.
The ghastly crime happened on Oxford Street, of all places! Now, normally I wouldn't be so bothered about what happens on the dreadful street - heaven forbid it ever dare to *touch* the fashion sense of a discerning woman like myself - but I am forced to admit, my darling dears, this was an egregious offense. It was... a total scandal!
Imagine, dear readers, imagine. A graceful ballet-inspired look, perfectly matched with delicate ribbons, all for naught. The utter sacrilege. The shocking atrocity of... **practicality**. **Function**! What has become of us, dear readers? Have we so far lost our way to *practicality* that the sanctity of a tutu, its pure aesthetic beauty, is tainted by *function* of all things!?
Now, the *horror* of this event has prompted some terrible, awful speculation from the usual suspects of *practicality*. "Oh, well," they might say with their nasty smiles and boring, dull shoes. "Maybe she just wanted a place to put her *car keys*". *Car keys*? Darling, in a tutu?! Is this 1999, or some *horrifying* sci-fi film with women *gasp* *running errands*?
But, there's no need to fret, my dears. There’s a way to save the graceful sanctity of the tutu from this vulgar attack of *practicality* and *function*. It’s *the* simple solution: just *add a clutch*! Now, darling, let us not *debase* the tutu by *containing* its beauty with such an egregious abomination as a *pocket*. This woman who dared wear such a thing clearly has a lot to learn about *elegance*. A real woman, you see, knows a real clutch is perfectly sufficient.
This is our time to fight for the future of the tutu, dear readers! For its glorious impracticality, for its unfettered beauty! And for its continued place in the very pinnacle of fashion - free from the clutches of practicality!