Oh darling, you wouldn't believe the scandal that unfolded at the Royal Opera House last night! It seems that our darling ballerinas, those delicate little swans, were not quite so angelic after all. All hell, or rather, all tutus, broke loose!
It all started with the opening night of Swan Lake, you know the one, the biggie, the Tchaikovsky masterpiece, the very thing that every ballerina dreams of. There I was, sat in the Royal Box, champagne flute in hand, watching as the first act unfolded, my usual blend of theatrical thrill and sheer, sheer envy coursing through me!
The prima ballerina, bless her cotton socks, was as exquisite as ever, floating about the stage with all the grace of a particularly stylish flamingo. But just as the famous white swan sequence started, chaos ensued!
Picture this, dear reader: A gaggle of disgruntled ballerinas, their white tutus looking suspiciously similar to a pile of freshly laundered hospital sheets, stomped their tiny, pointe shoe-clad feet on stage! They shouted about “a right old injustice”, claiming that the lead ballerina's white tutu, a vintage masterpiece, shall we say, had a larger and more flamboyant, let’s be polite, "ruffle" on the front than any other in the company!
The poor darling, clearly overwhelmed by the audacity of it all, looked absolutely crestfallen. I almost felt sorry for her, but the spectacle was simply too good to be missed. She attempted to keep dancing, but to no avail! The disgruntled ballerinas refused to participate in the "outrageously unfair " performance, declaring it a “monumental tutu injustice."
As the orchestra continued playing the most hauntingly beautiful music, it was as if an elegant flock of agitated geese had somehow invaded the stage. They honked, pecked, flapped their wings (or tutu wings, I suppose one might call them) and glared at the leader of their disgruntled feathered mob. The scene was positively surreal, and frankly, hilarious!
One ballerina, who I suspect was once in the school choir (oh darling, the voice she possessed!), decided that the only appropriate response was to launch into a rendition of “There's No Business Like Show Business.” Sadly, it didn’t go down particularly well with the conductor, a stern and somewhat startled gentleman in a powdered wig! I nearly died laughing!
It was the biggest tutus-and-feathers commotion since that incident in Covent Garden last spring when they added pink ballet shoes to "Coppelia." Remember, that glorious spectacle?! Everyone was calling it a "new age tutu revolution"! But let me tell you, this was something else entirely. And not because the ballet was good. It was brilliant, but more because I had the most amazing “front-row seat” to the greatest tutu-related scandal in ballet history!
Here’s the lowdown on the drama- Turns out the head tutu-maker, an otherwise unassuming middle-aged gentleman known only to us as "The Maker", has a secret passion: making elaborate, ostentatious tutus.
- He, apparently, had secretly spent the last few months adding an outrageous “ruffle" to the lead ballerina’s tutu , and it turns out, this was the root of all the "tutu-mania," so to speak! It was as if he was adding his little creative flair in a rather sneaky fashion, you know, the sort that wouldn’t have gone down too well with the tutu board.
It took the arrival of the Queen, darling, (yes, she loves a bit of "Swan Lake", she really does, don't tell anyone though, but she even has a little white tutu and swan slippers in her collection!), to calm everyone down. I was just sat there with my champagne, so shocked that my little fingers just couldn't keep up with the fast-paced and entertaining events that unfolded on stage, but I couldn't miss a minute! It was just pure theatrical joy, and so unexpected and funny that it could've only happened in the UK.
Of course, the “unofficial tutus review” is being met with fierce condemnation from ballet critics, who have been ranting and raving about "the decline in professional standards," "a disrespect for tradition," and the fact that we’re all now obsessed with tutus and ruffles to the extent of complete and utter “ballet lunacy!”
Honestly darling, they're missing the point entirely. This was more than a ballet performance, more than a scandal, and even more than a show of theatrical daring; this was, my darlings, a beautiful, dramatic, hilarious tutu-fest that we'll remember for years to come. The only "tragedy", my dear, is that no one captured it all on film.