Leotards and laughter: A day in the life of a ballerina!
Oh, darlings, where do I even begin? You know how much I love ballet, and, well, this past Friday, January 20th 1997, was just an utter delight, a complete and utter giggle-fest. It wasn't the performance that caused the mirth (although, yes, we certainly put on a show, we do have a reputation to uphold!) but rather the utterly bizarre string of events that led up to the grand finale.
You see, my dear readers, it all began innocently enough. We were just preparing backstage, my glorious fellow ballerinas and I, when it happened... The dreaded ātutu tumble!ā
It started with Sarah, a dear thing with a mischievous twinkle in her eye (and quite frankly, the biggest bosom of the bunch!). Now Sarah is never known for her elegance, and she must have had one too many coffees (we do love our cappuccino and croissants in the ballet world, donāt you know) because she was shimmying like a disco ball before finally meeting her fate ā a spectacular tumble! Her lovely pink tutu became, well, I can only describe it as āuntutored.ā The feathers, darlings, oh the feathers! It was chaos, a feathery hurricane right in the middle of our dressing room.
Now youād think that would have been the end of it, wouldnāt you? Alas, dear readers, no.
There was then a near catastrophe involving Beatrice, our lovely prima ballerina. Beatrice is an angel on the stage, absolutely ethereal, and her dancing... oh, I simply cannot describe it! It's a visual treat. But off the stage, my dears, let's just say sheās not quite the same.
Beatrice had, you see, made the unfortunate decision to wear her iconic white tutu (a design by the legendary Mademoiselle Coco Chanel, I swear it was custom-made! We ballet girls, we love our luxurious things.) This white tutu, my darling, is, for lack of a better word, magnificent, with its cascading layers and intricate stitching - but thatās if the poor tutu is kept at least 10 feet away from anything remotely pink.
Beatriceās lovely, well, lovely, āred and blackā breakfast concoction was not exactly what Mademoiselle Coco had in mind when designing her creations, so it's just as well that our stagehand, Mr. Bigglesworth, has the reflexes of a puma. He whipped away her un-sloshed "strawberry-redā drink just in the nick of time! You wouldnāt believe the chorus of sighs of relief and shouts of "thank you Mr Bigglesworth!" The entire room breathed a collective sigh, all eyes on Beatrice's immaculate white tutu!
Of course, we continued with the show, after all, the curtain was going up in only minutes! We were all jittery, as you can imagine, after such an alarming morning but I promise, my lovely readers, you would have never noticed our off-stage antics if you had been in the audience. The show was flawless, a graceful testament to the art of ballet. You can't beat a white tutu, can you darlings! Even better when itās pristine!
This was certainly one of those evenings that make you cherish the chaotic beauty of life and its delightful oddities. Now youāll just have to come and see our next show for yourselves ā Iām sure there will be another ātut-tasticā event soon enough. Don't you worry, youāll hear all about it from this little ballet queen!
Stay stylish!