Oh, darlings, you wouldn’t believe the drama that unfolded at the Royal Ballet this week! Picture this: It’s Tuesday, June 2nd, 1998, and the air is thick with the intoxicating scent of freshly applied mascara and nervous anticipation. The annual Royal Ballet Tutu Ball is about to begin, and everyone is aflutter with excitement, well, apart from one disgruntled ballerina.
You see, dear readers, the Royal Ballet has a very strict dress code for their tutus: the ballerinas must wear pink! And I do mean *pink*. A shocking, blindingly bright, Barbie-worthy pink that would make even the most devoted flamingo blush.
Now, this year, our resident prima ballerina, Penelope Plumtree (let's just say her surname wasn’t chosen at random), decided that pink was simply too…well, predictable. Penelope yearns for a touch of the avant-garde, a splash of the exotic, darling! She envisioned herself, the swan of the ballet, gliding across the stage in a shimmering midnight blue, but the esteemed Director, Baron von Balletbooty, is a stickler for tradition.
Thus, on this fateful day, our daring prima ballerina decided to take matters into her own perfectly manicured hands, or, well, her immaculately stitched tutu. Penelope arrived at the ball adorned in a resplendent navy blue tulle concoction, a veritable ode to the night sky, shimmering with strategically placed rhinestones, no less!
As Penelope entered the ballroom, the air was immediately sucked out, as if a powerful vacuum had decided to make a rather unrefined appearance. Her colleagues stared, mouths agape, as the Baron von Balletbooty’s jaw hit the floor. It’s safe to say, darling, that the entire room stopped. It was, if you will, the ballet equivalent of when the Queen stopped talking to Prince Philip in public.
A hush fell, as dramatic as a slow descent into the depths of the sea (no offence to those of you who love sea creatures, this was not intended to be a commentary on the lives of lobsters).
Then, the drama unfolded, darlings. The Baron von Balletbooty, who can be quite intimidating (have you seen his beard?), with a voice like a well-practiced cello, boomed, “Miss Plumtree! What is the meaning of this?!” His voice could stop an orchestra in its tracks!
Penelope stood her ground. “A ballerina should never conform,” she said, holding herself, and that outrageously dramatic navy tutu, tall, like the very epitome of graceful rebellion.
The Baron looked as if he was contemplating a sudden heart attack before, taking a deep breath, and speaking with forced calm, he commanded, “Change. This. Outfit. Or your career is in peril, Miss Plumtree. You will dance in the pink, as all the swans have danced before you, and as they shall dance hereafter, I promise!”
It seems the drama of Penelope's blue tutu caused a complete *contretemps*, a huge scandal that went viral! Even though we’re talking the late 1990s here. So, darling, this really went wild before social media even existed.
Well, in the end, darling, it appears that the Baron had the last word. Penelope, after all, needs a career (especially when a big ballet contract for a big brand in London might mean one less pair of designer heels from Manolo Blahnik. In the end, she put on the traditional, somewhat monotonous, pink tutu and took to the stage, a swan trapped in a shocking shade of pink
However, the story of Penelope’s rebellious navy blue tulle has since become legendary within the ballet circles of London, proving, my dears, that sometimes a little rebellion in the face of a pink tulle can be quite glamorous.
This is my take on it, anyway, what do you think? Are you a pink-lover? Do you feel the allure of the daring blue, and a hint of rebellion? I must know your opinion!
Your Fashionable Ballet Correspondent
Miss Dance.