Dearest darlings,
Gather 'round, my lovelies, as we delve into the enchanting realm of the most glamorous garment in the world: the tutu! Oh, the tulle! The twirls! The pure, unadulterated joy of a perfectly-fitted tutu. Honestly, if you’ve never experienced the thrill of wearing one, I can only assume you’re living a very uninspired life, darling!
On this momentous day, March 3rd 1998, I must tell you about a delightful incident I witnessed at the Royal Opera House that has had me positively chortling for weeks!
Now, you know I adore ballet, the precision of every arabesque, the elegance of every plié, the beauty, the grace - oh, but have you seen a tutu at the right angle, a swirl of pure silk tulle - divine!
So picture this, the Covent Garden Opera House, absolutely heaving with the usual suspects: fashion editors with their tiny notebooks scribbling frantically and socialites wearing an *amount* of jewellery (they say one should always wear more jewellery, darlings). The stage is bathed in warm golden light, ready for a grand performance of Tchaikovsky's Swan Lake. Then - *enter* the tutu-clad ballerina, ethereal in her white silk wings. The crowd is silent in awe, right?
WRONG, pet. What we get instead is absolute pandemonium - a veritable *frisson* of hilarious confusion. The unfortunate swan queen - shall we call her Ophelia? I adore a Shakespeare reference - well, Ophelia, *dear Ophelia,* somehow got caught on a *fire escape*, yes, a FIRE ESCAPE. Picture the scene, darlings, an *opulent* ball gown, designed by none other than the infamous designer Christian Lacroix himself, all frills and ruffles, dangling precariously from a rusty, fire-escape railing - oh the irony!
The audience were initially bewildered, some gasped, some snickered (though the snickering came from the less socially acceptable sections of the stalls), and I can assure you there were a *slew* of hilarious observations uttered (which shall remain confidential, darling! Never betray a good rumour!). However, as the scene unfolded, there was no other response other than to burst into laughter - the *sweetest* sound.
Now, before you jump to conclusions and think that this poor, unsuspecting Ophelia was caught in the clutches of some mischevious rat, I assure you she wasn't, darlings. It was a far more comical story altogether. Turns out the fire escape was…well, it *was* a fire escape but in that bizarre way it's like the 'wrong' fire escape, darling, the *alternative* fire escape. Oh, the British and our strange eccentricities, eh? And you can only imagine the pandemonium that followed. An unfortunate member of the technical crew, wearing a rather *uninspiring* outfit, tried in vain to untangle the *unruly* tulle but he only seemed to tangle her further, leading to *more* giggling, sniggering and guffawing from the audience. The *chaos* of it all - oh, darling, the absolute chaos!
Thankfully, a group of quick-witted ballerinas quickly sprang to Ophelia's rescue (all of whom had been in rehearsals earlier and knew the scene). They pulled her up, amidst a smattering of claps and cheers. Her composure - absolute perfection, darling! Never did she break character. Just an ever so *tiny* wave of her hand to acknowledge the awkwardness of it all and then - bam, straight back into character, with an impressive plié that made a *swoon* through the audience - the *most* elegant rescue in the history of ballet, darling. And she didn’t miss a beat - in fact she *went on to receive a standing ovation, * which proves she’s quite a star, don’t you think, my dears? I’m simply *delighted* that I was lucky enough to be there.
This little mishap reminded me why ballet is so very delightful. It’s about resilience, darling. A bit like that lovely Ophelia - a true testament to perseverance - how she took a precarious position in a perilous *fire escape situation* and turned it into an incredibly entertaining show of force - *genius* darling. You *have* to admire the fact that the ballet *did* carry on.
Ballet is an art form full of grace, drama and intrigue - the story *must* carry on even in the midst of an embarrassing (but *hilarious* ) incident - this is the magic, the enchantment and the absolutely hilarious absurdity that is *ballet*.
This isn't your regular, stiff, conservative story about ballet - oh no, dear readers - I assure you I only report the **good**, the **bad**, and the *absolutely* **hilarious* news, you see? So keep a close eye on your newspapers. There are far more tales to tell about ballet.
**Until next time, my dears, au revoir!**