**Oh, the drama! Oh, the sequins! The tutus!** Can you believe it's been 27 years since that momentous day, 29th September 1996, when the ballet world was shaken to its very core? Well, not shaken exactly, more like gently pirouetted, because the news that day, darling, wasn’t exactly world-ending, but it *was* scandalous in a delicately powdered sort of way.
Let's rewind to that fateful Friday, the very air electric with anticipation. It wasn't the unveiling of a new choreography or even the discovery of a ballet shoe unearthed from Tutankhamun's tomb - oh, the rumour mill went wild with that one - no, it was *far* more subversive than that.
Imagine if you will, a hushed press conference in the hallowed halls of the Royal Opera House, the chandeliers shimmering, a row of prim-and-proper journalists scribbling furiously in their notebooks. Then, in sweeps our very own Sir Reginald Featherstone, Director General of the Royal Ballet, looking every bit the dashing Shakespearean actor off-duty - impeccably-tailored suit, a sprig of lilac peeking out of his buttonhole, that faint scent of lavender... *swoon*. And what news did Sir Reginald deliver with an air of mock seriousness?
**Hold your breaths, darling, it’s about the tutus! **
Yep, *the tutus*. It was a bold move, one that shook the ballet world from its *en pointe* perspective, something only Sir Reginald Featherstone could get away with.
For decades, darling, the hallowed stage had seen an array of ballet dancers adorned in the iconic white tutus, so airy and delicate they seemed to defy gravity, as graceful as the swan, as majestic as the white horse - if you squint, that is, and imagine a four-legged creature dancing ballet. But oh, those white tutus! How elegant, how chic. It felt almost... wrong to even think of change.
Well, Sir Reginald was having none of that. You see, our dear Director General, who once admitted to owning over a hundred pairs of black patent leather shoes, was not afraid of a little *colour*. He believed ballet, just like a delectable cup of Earl Grey tea, needed a little more flavour to truly delight.
So, on that day in September 1996, Sir Reginald unveiled a daring, some would say *radical*, new decree: **pink tutus were officially allowed!**
**Imagine the furore!**
It was like introducing hot pink pants into a convent! The rumour mills whirred with more intensity than the ballerina’s *fouettes*, the traditionalists fainted in a flurry of tulle and feathers. Some even cried foul! "What will happen to the legacy of Balanchine? Will they turn ‘Swan Lake’ into ‘Barbie on Ice’?", they gasped in horrified whispers. The debate raged like a well-choreographed, multi-layered pas de deux.
But Sir Reginald stood his ground. **He remained unmoved by the cries of scandal and insisted it was simply a case of ‘change is good’**. In an exclusive interview, Sir Reginald explained his stance with his signature nonchalance: "My dear, we’re talking ballet, darling, it’s a world built on feathers, frills and fancies. A dash of pink tutus in this world of delicate lace and delicate moves is like adding a sprinkle of sugar to the cake. Who can argue with that? “
**But what about the ballerinas? **
Naturally, some ballerinas - we'll call them *The Devoted* - clung to their white tutus with the desperation of a prima donna clutching a priceless emerald necklace, while others – we'll call them *The Modern Muses* - embraced this radical change with open arms, flocking to couture designers and boutiques like fashionable pigeons in search of the latest haute-couture baguette (and if you’ve ever seen a pigeon strutting down Bond Street with its new handbag you’ll understand that metaphor perfectly).
**Naturally, *The Modern Muses* had their reasons.** One particular prima ballerina named Camille DeVille - who later became known as “The Pink Prima Donna" and who is currently making a comeback after a string of Botox injections - said she found white "too blinding, darling. It was a nightmare trying to see the intricate embroidery of my new bodice." And the men in the audience, she said, loved it too! It apparently made them “look younger." She wasn’t joking either!
The truth is, darling, pink was not simply a change, it was an evolutionary leap forward. It reflected the world outside, where pink was embracing everything - lipstick, phones, flamingo-shaped furniture, everything. Even your Aunt Gertrude was sporting a pink paisley cardigan that year - it had the scent of jasmine and lavender! And why not embrace it, darlings? The colour pink in ballet was about *progress*, about being bold, daring and just plain, gloriously chic.
**And so, the stage was set for a revolution.**
**The white tutus, once the stars of the ballet stage, gracefully bowed to the power of pink. **
**It was a watershed moment, my darling, a ballet ballet ballet (that's right, you read that right, a *ballet*) ballet! And you, my dearest readers, were witnesses to this fabulous fashion affair.**
Now, what else is in my diary today… Oh, the Prince of Wales has just unveiled a new fashion line… But we’ll save that juicy story for another time! Now, where’s my tiara?