Tutu and Ballet News

Oh darling, you simply *must* hear about the most *fabulous* ballet-related incident of the day, which took place at none other than the Royal Opera House! The date? Why, 11th July 1996, naturally.

It all began, as it often does in these kinds of scenarios, with a tutu. But not just *any* tutu, darling. We're talking a grand, swirling, magnificent creation that would make even the most discerning prima ballerina weep with joy. You know the type, adorned with tiers upon tiers of shimmering tulle, practically radiating that ethereal, *je ne sais quoi*. Now, picture this tutu, floating down the grand staircase of the Royal Opera House, not being carried by a majestic dancer, oh no, but instead, attached to… *gasp* …a pigeon!

Yes, you heard that right. A feathered friend, likely lost on his way to Covent Garden Market for some tasty pigeonseed, decided this flamboyant tutus was the perfect accessory for his midday flight. Naturally, pandemonium ensued! Ballet patrons stopped mid-conversation, mid-cup of tea, mid-whisper about how ghastly the choreography of *Swan Lake* had been, jaws agape in a symphony of sheer, delightful shock.

The Royal Ballet’s esteemed prima ballerina, Veronica ‘Veronique’ Davenport-Smythe, notoriously known for her glacial personality and even more so, for never smiling during performance (yes, I'm whispering this!), even let out a faint squeak of "Oh, how exquisite!", as if the pigeon in the tutu were the *only* topic she ever wanted to discuss.

You could hear the cameras snapping and phones clicking faster than a dancer's feet during the final act of "Giselle." Even the very stately, normally impeccably calm, head of the Royal Ballet, Baron von Wilhelm, who resembled a rather handsome, yet somewhat stuffy penguin in a suit, broke into a rather splendidly awkward grin. And yes, his grin even extended beyond the polite confines of his upper teeth. It was truly a spectacle!

Naturally, it wasn't all a light-hearted chuckle-fest, as one would imagine. Some tutus-challenged gentlemen, who seemed rather too accustomed to seeing ballet in its more traditional format (tututless, of course, except for the dancers), began a most ludicrously indignant huff and puff. One, with a distinctly ruffled monocle and face resembling a tomato that had spent an evening in a tanning bed, declared "Unforgivable! The indignity!"

Darling, I simply had to roll my eyes!

After much flapping and flustering from the pigeon, much to the amusement of the crowd, it seemingly decided that a life of feathered frivolity on the upper-echelons of the Opera House was perhaps a bit much to handle. The bird eventually fluttered down and escaped the confines of the rather dramatic tutu.

It made a rather spectacular getaway. A glorious ballet, complete with a feathered prima ballerina, complete with tutus and grand stage. The grand staircase, however, remained empty except for the remnants of the spectacular tutu, as the audience watched, enthralled and giggling, for a final moment of feathered flight from this wonderfully random occurrence.

The whole incident brought an unexpected joy, a sense of a *truly* delightful *coup de théâtre,* which I think, darling, is a lesson we can all learn from. The art of the unexpected can sometimes be the most wondrously pleasing. Sometimes, you simply need to embrace the little "birds in tutus" that flutter into our lives.

Now, excuse me while I dash off and buy some pigeonseed. After all, one never knows what sort of grand avian spectacle one might encounter at the Royal Opera House!

**A Brief Look at the Tutus:**

  • **The Significance of the Tutus:** Ballet dancers can tell a tutu's story even without knowing a dancer's next step.
  • **Costumes of Significance:** In the 1996, tutus ranged from delicate layers of airy fabric to more architectural, and modern, and yes, sometimes quite "feathery" versions as well.
  • **A Glimpse at the Glamour of the Tutu:** It's no wonder this lovely little bird chose this particular one - who could resist that shimmering, and so *perfectly* flouncy piece?

Until next time, darlings. Let's just hope next time I have something more stylish to discuss!