Darling, have you heard? The world is in utter chaos! It's a full-blown tutu crisis, I tell you. Just last night, a rogue group of tutu-clad ninjas stormed the Buckingham Palace ballroom, demanding a spot for ballet in the Olympics. Well, let's just say, the Queen wasn't having any of it! She's not a fan of pliés, apparently. A Day of Mayhem, Ballet, and Ballets! Now, 11th May 1998 was supposed to be a regular Tuesday, the sort where you'd grab your morning latte and chat with the butcher about the perfect roast. Not today, darling! This Tuesday was a tutu twister, a tutu tango, a full-on ballet blitz. The morning started with a flurry of feathers, glitter, and a lot of très chic tutus in Trafalgar Square. Apparently, some group calling themselves "The Tutus Take London" decided it was time to show the world that ballet is the *only* art form worthy of global domination. The Tutu's Out of the Bag! The tutu situation quickly escalated from a rather lovely picnic to a full-on fashion frenzy. We had ladies with their pooches dressed in matching tutus (adorable, I know!), then there were those dashing gentlemen in their *best* bespoke tuxedos...complete with tutu toppers. One of them, let me tell you, looked like a ballet swan. Even the pigeons were in on it, donning little tulle "wings," flitting about like mini ballerinas. But the real show stopper? The *Tutu Royale,* an enormous tutu the size of a hot air balloon! This glorious monstrosity took flight from the Tate Modern, floating gracefully, I'll give you that, across the Thames. It got tangled in the Houses of Parliament clock tower, sending the whole structure swinging like a massive pendulum, causing some lovely and utterly hysterical chaos. The Queen was *not* amused. The poor love was having a spot of tea in the Palace gardens when she saw it all unfold, and frankly, her corgi had a fit and fainted. I’m not surprised, it was all rather alarming! Oh, The Glamour! It wasn't just mayhem though, there was some fantastic, utterly glam ballet going on too! In Piccadilly Circus, a flash mob sprung into action with a synchronized routine – some moves worthy of the Bolshoi! And at the National Theatre, they replaced *The Importance of Being Earnest* with *The Importance of Being En Pointe* – an entirely original ballet adaptation about a charming gentleman with a penchant for prance. Apparently, the reviews were rave! By evening, the whole city was awash in the light of the Tutu Royale, floating majestically over London. A beautiful sight, I’ll admit. Even the Mayor of London gave it a nod and a smile. As for the tutu ninjas, they disappeared into the night, leaving a trail of sparkly fabric and giggles in their wake. Fashion, darling! Of course, there was the inevitable aftermath. London was littered with abandoned tutus, all the colour and fluff of a marshmallow factory explosion. There was talk of a new law – the "Tutu Ordinance of 1998" – forbidding the wearing of tutus within a ten-mile radius of Buckingham Palace. (It never made it into law – just a rather nice rumour!) But for those of us with a love of ballet and all things tutus, it was simply a *fantastic* day, a reminder that fashion, darling, has its own rebellious whims and a delightful way of catching us off guard.
