Fun Ballet Tutu News 646

Oh, my darlings, you wouldn’t believe what happened yesterday! The 9th of April, 1998, will go down in history as the day tutudom truly reached peak absurdity – and by absurd, I mean delightfully hilarious, of course. I, your trusty, fabulous dance correspondent, was at the Royal Opera House, ready to review the premiere of Swan Lake (in what was quite possibly the most elegant polka-dot frock imaginable) when I witnessed the most bizarre and delightful ballet blunder this side of a split leap.

The Royal Ballet was, of course, flawless; those swan variations, executed with such grace! Our male leads – let’s just say they were practically chiseled out of marble, a visual feast. But dear, the real story began during the final curtain call. As the applause reached fever pitch, we were all on our feet – myself included, of course, holding a particularly delicious box of chocolates (it's good to keep one's energy levels high) – when suddenly... **a rogue tutu!** It floated onto the stage from the wings like a mischievous white cloud.

The entire theatre froze, all eyes glued to the floating confection. The prima ballerina, whose name I believe was… Penelope? Oh, I forget… well, *she* looked particularly baffled. For a brief, hilarious moment, everyone wondered what on earth to do. Then, like a ray of sunshine breaking through a grey sky, the conductor (a dapper man, wouldn't you agree?) launched into a rapid-fire rendition of the “Waltz of the Flowers”.

Chaos reigned. But the sort of elegant, chaotic fun you see only at the ballet. A couple of dancers gave it a whirl – a hilarious attempt to dance with the tutu that didn’t quite land. It bounced around, catching the edge of a ballerina’s slipper, then waltzed onto a poor chap in a perfectly-tailored tuxedo’s head (he was decidedly not amused, I’ll admit). And then, just when we thought the tutu wouldn't stop its random odyssey, it took a final majestic twirl and settled upon… **the conductor’s baton**! It seemed to cling there, a little fluffy white cap for the maestro’s wand.

The orchestra burst into laughter – and for a while, all you could hear was the gentle rustling of tulle as the baton spun the tutu along, keeping time with the waltz. The audience roared with laughter, including the (slightly peeved) conductor, who gave the offending tutu a quick flick before it tumbled into the wings, disappearing as suddenly as it had arrived. It was like the ballets of old - a delightful mix of tradition, passion, and the completely unexpected!

Let’s face it, tutus can sometimes be quite intimidating. They are the grand symbol of ballet, all billowy tulle and elegant swirls, and perhaps a bit stuffy in their prim and proper image. Yet, on this particular evening, that wandering tutu brought a breath of laughter to the heart of classical ballet. It reminded everyone of the simple, joyful heart of dance – it’s not just about perfect jumps and elegant footwork; it’s about the thrill, the excitement, and a little bit of good old-fashioned fun.

So darling, a little tip to add a bit of playful charm to your own life - don’t be afraid of the unconventional, embrace a touch of whimsy. A mischievous tutu can remind us that beauty, grace, and silliness can, and often do, live side by side – particularly in the wonderful world of dance!

• Replace your teacup with a champagne glass – but fill it with tea. You don’t want to lose that classic touch.
• While watching ballet on television, do attempt to balance on a chair, à la a ballerina warming up in a class, while clutching your TV remote. Be careful!
• Sprinkle petals of a rose into your bath - It adds a certain touch of graceful refinement!
• Wear your best high heels while gardening – a subtle statement of sophistication, my dear! Just watch out for the mud!
• Listen to a bit of classical music whilst taking a bath! Don’t tell me you wouldn't want a soundtrack as dramatic and glamorous as "La Bayadère!"
• If life throws a tutu at you - even if it's only figuratively, gracefully embrace it with a dash of laughter. After all, what else is a ballerina's life for?