Darling, you wouldn’t believe the drama at the Royal Opera House last night! It was positively *Cabaret* meets *The Nutcracker*. The Royal Ballet was performing *Swan Lake* (a classic, I know, but bear with me), and the whole thing was like a scene straight out of *Absolutely Fabulous* gone wildly, fabulously wrong! You know I'm a creature of comfort, and the first hint something was amiss was the *un*usually large queue of limousines. Darling, there were more diamond necklaces than you could shake a *pas de deux* at.
Turns out the queen herself was in attendance, and rumour has it she was there for the *prima ballerina* herself, Miss Fiona Fairweather, who, shall we say, isn't known for being... understated. And for goodness sake, her tutu! It looked like a whole team of feather boas had gotten into a brawl on a bedazzled carousel. Seriously, darling, you could see it from the bloody moon.
Then, the lights go down, and Miss Fairweather takes the stage. And just as the music starts to soar, *it happens*. A very *un*subtle gust of wind. Fiona gives a horrified shriek, the music screeches to a halt, and there, on stage, we are left with a veritable mountain of tutu tulle, swirling around Miss Fairweather’s lovely, though understandably startled, ankles.
Let's just say there were a lot of people clutching pearls (and I mean *a lot*). One very important member of the audience, a Lady Whatever-Her-Name, actually *fainted*. But the real shock? Fiona, that icon, darling, that style goddess, just threw her head back and let out this incredibly hearty, truly infectious laugh. The entire audience was caught in her infectious mirth, even the queen.
The audience roared, the orchestra began playing "My Favourite Things" (ironic, much?) and before we knew it, Fiona, she grabbed a rogue piece of tulle and proceeded to perform the most fabulous, utterly unexpected improvisational dance number you could imagine. The orchestra followed along, the stage hands started *joining* in, and the whole affair became a dance of joy and liberation. This wasn't Swan Lake anymore; it was Swan Lake goes Cirque du Soleil goes Monty Python’s Flying Circus. We've got tutu and laughter. I was on the edge of my seat!
Even Prince Charles, that notorious stiff upper lip man, was tapping his feet, grinning from ear to ear. He practically applauded till his hands were numb.
Later that night, at the grand post-show party (which Fiona apparently funded herself), it was revealed that Fiona was wearing her great-great-grandmother's tutu! Imagine, a heirloom! Turns out, the whole wind-in-the-tutu thing was planned by the queen herself. Who knew! The queen? The rebel? Who knew she loved tutu-induced chaos so much!
As I said darling, you simply *cannot* make this stuff up. Just imagine, Fiona Fairweather's laugh... the orchestra's quick thinking... the queen's own brand of mischievousness. What an absolute night! Just shows, the ballet world needs a bit more humour, darling, and a lot more tulle, especially if it's all for charity. *Oh darlings, you’re just dying to know!*, The tulle was for a breast cancer awareness campaign, which of course is wonderful, darling. And as I told my darling friend Penelope, Fiona just doesn’t know the word "subdued!" This whole business truly makes my little *dance heart* sing.