Dearest readers, As the summer sun bathes us in its golden glow, casting shimmering reflections upon the rippling waters of our local lake, a whisper drifts on the wind - a whisper of pink, of tulle, of… **ballerinas!** Oh, my darlings, have I got a story for you! This July 9th, 1996, is not just another ordinary Tuesday, it's a day for the ages! Let me elaborate... Imagine, if you will, a scene straight out of a fairytale. Not your ordinary Grimm Brothers fare, mind you, but a decidedly *chic* fairyland. The air, humming with anticipation, is filled with the sweet, delicate fragrance of rosewater and... *gasp*… fresh tutus. That's right, my dears, *fresh tutus!* Just like a crisp new banknote straight out of the Royal Mint. Our protagonists? None other than a gaggle of our beloved ballerinas, all clad in the most glorious pink tutus this side of the River Thames! It's a veritable explosion of frothy elegance, a cloud of whispered silk and whimsical pirouettes. These are not just *any* ballerinas, my dears. No, no. These are ballerinas who have come together to take a stand, a **bold statement** against the mundane, against the dreary routines of life. They've declared war against the drab! With every grand jeté, with each delicately placed foot, they're raising a tiny pink fist against beige carpets and monochrome kitchen appliances. Their tutus, as pristine as the first day of spring, are a visual declaration of joy, of freedom, of the sheer artistry of movement! And wouldn't you know it, it's contagious! **Imagine, dear readers:** * Shop windows are suddenly brimming with tutus! Pink, white, lavender, even *gasp* teal! * The ladies in the neighbourhood have started adding pink feather boas to their handbag collection. * Even your granny has replaced her usual cardigan with a lacy pink bolero, just *slightly* too big for her frame but she's loving it! **It's an utter pandemonium of twirling, spinning, and giddy laughter, all fueled by the contagious energy of the ballerinas and their glorious pink tutus.** The men, initially bewildered by this unexpected display of **frilly flamboyance** , are starting to show signs of catching the tutu bug. After all, let's face it, the ladies in pink tutus have that *something special* about them. A sort of pixie dust aura that's a bit difficult to resist, especially when it comes paired with those rosy cheeks, all flushed from a day of pirouetting in the midday sun. Even the staidest of gentlemen, those who haven't twirled a single step since their childhood days, find themselves caught up in the whirl. Perhaps it's the allure of the pink tulle, or the charming way the ballerinas carry themselves - whatever the reason, it's a captivating sight! And wouldn't you know it, dear readers? The air is alive with the sounds of joyful laughter, a symphony of pink tulle rustling against the summer breeze, and... oh, darling! A crescendo of twirling, swooning and yes, you guessed it... **dancing!** And all this, because a bunch of ballerinas in pink tutus decided to take a stand. It’s a lesson, you see, in how a simple pink tutu, an unbridled joy for life, can turn an ordinary Tuesday into a magnificent, tutu-ful extravaganza. **The moral of the story?** Always wear your pink tutu with a bit of gusto, embrace the ridiculous, and never let anyone tell you you can’t spin a little in the street when your heart feels like it!** Yours truly, **Daphne DeMille** **Ballet Correspondent**
