Dearest darlings! You're simply not going to believe what happened on this gloriously gorgeous 19th of October, 1997, when a cloud of tulle descended upon the hallowed halls of the Royal Opera House!
Well, it's not as dramatic as it sounds, darling. Though frankly, with the number of tutus involved, it could have been an opera! Picture this: It was an ordinary Tuesday afternoon, just your average day of balletic bliss at the Royal Ballet. The sun was streaming through the windows, casting a heavenly glow upon the dancers gracefully gliding across the studio floor, you know, just your standard breathtaking routine. But then, all hell broke loose! (metaphorically of course, darling.)
Well, the real issue, I mean the REAL issue here is this. Suddenly, the doors burst open (a rather loud bang that interrupted a rather important pirouette) and in walked the most extravagant collection of tutus ever seen outside of a Swan Lake performance!
Now, we're not talking the simple little number that you see at the ballet school, darling. No, no, no! These were, and I am not exaggerating here, TUTUS with CAPITAL LETTERS! I'm talking swirling oceans of tulle, layers upon layers of fabric. I mean, they were like, *structured*, darling! And the colour! Oh, the colour! You had everything from the traditional elegant pink to the daringly sassy shocking fuchsia. And did I mention the feathers? Oh darling, there were *feathers*, glittering feathers in every possible shade imaginable, perched atop every tulle mountain like glorious avian warriors ready to take on the Royal Ballet!
Apparently, it was all a "mistake," darling! The tutus, belonging to a travelling performance company called *'La Ballerina Bella',* were meant for a performance at the theatre's much smaller, and admittedly less glamorous, studio across the street. Someone ( *who's been given an incredibly large vase of roses, by someone...*) decided to deliver them to the Royal Ballet's grand rehearsal hall, presumably under the assumption that 'ballet' is, after all, ballet. The delivery person must have been new, darling. Because quite clearly, they hadn't experienced the glory that is a Royal Ballet rehearsal!
Now, I understand, darling, that this sounds like utter chaos, and it WAS quite a scene for a while. But let me tell you, with the dancers gracefully pirouetteing amongst mountains of tulle and feathers, and with the studio floor transforming into a rainbow of colour - the whole event had a rather magnificent sense of... well, of pantomime. The kind of joyous madness that really brings the beauty of dance to life, wouldn't you say?
Imagine the scenes, darling! Dancers in full classical garb, complete with pointe shoes, battling with an impossible pile of tutus. One ballerina, you wouldn't believe it, but she used the layers of tulle to actually perform a beautiful, dramatic solo. Imagine, darling! I heard her say it was actually quite refreshing to do the steps with such "unique" air resistance!
Now, darling, you simply can't create this kind of theatrical delight just *any* day. A grand performance is, of course, essential to a ballet lovers life, but sometimes, it's the moments like this, where a chaotic pile of tutus interrupts an afternoon of grace and rhythm, where the magic of ballet truly comes to life. The beauty, I mean, of course, of chaos. It's the *divine spark* darling.
But here is the true story, and I wouldn't have believed it if I didn't witness it myself darling. It was all too much. You know, with all the feathers, and the sparkles, and all the layers upon layers of tulle. One dancer tripped, she just *toppled* darling, went head first into this entire world of tutu heaven! And the best part? There wasn't a single tear in that fabric and not one feather was disturbed!
That, darling, is the magic of ballet. It takes chaos, the sorts of situations that make most women, and men for that matter, go crazy. But the dancers... oh darling they are the angels, the fairy godmothers! They take all that chaos and make it graceful, elegant, and absolutely glorious.