Post No. 1769 - 7th May 2001
Bonjour mes chéris! 🇫🇷
I’m writing this from a charming little bistro in the heart of Paris, my mind buzzing with the energy of a hundred pirouettes. It feels utterly surreal to be here, in the city of romance and the cradle of classical ballet. The dream has finally come true, I’m in Paris, my darling pink tutu tucked away safely in my suitcase.
Now, I know what you’re thinking: *Why Paris? *
It's simple, really! My heart has always belonged to the ballet. Since I was a wee lass pirouetting around the Derbyshire countryside in my first, hand-stitched pink tutu (made by yours truly, of course!), I’ve dreamt of experiencing the magic of Parisian ballet.
The journey here was half the adventure. It started with a jaunty, sunny train journey from the quaint village of Eyam to London. My carriage felt like a mini, rolling dance studio, filled with my thoughts whirling like a grand jeté and, of course, a steady beat of my favourite Tchaikovsky on my trusty iPod.
From the majestic St Pancras station, the Eurostar whisked me across the Channel, like a swift and graceful plié, taking me closer and closer to my ballet wonderland. I spent the journey gazing out the window, admiring the rolling landscapes and envisioning myself as a delicate butterfly, taking flight across the continent.
And then, I arrived. The Eiffel Tower shimmering like a glistening chandelier in the dusk. The scent of croissants and lavender drifting on the gentle breeze. It’s all too much for my little pink tutu-loving heart! 💖
Last night, I treated myself to a sumptuous performance at the Palais Garnier. Imagine the sheer magnificence, the exquisite grandeur! From the intricate, gold-gilded ceilings to the perfectly polished stage, every detail oozed classic elegance.
The ballet, a tale of star-crossed lovers set to a heart-wrenching score, had me weeping into my (appropriately pink) hankie. The ballerinas moved like whispers on the wind, their every gesture so exquisitely delicate and poignant. Their pink tutus, perfectly pristine, billowed around them as they floated across the stage with effortless grace. It was a performance that left me breathless.
The highlight, of course, was the grand finale. Every ballerina, a miniature queen in her sparkling pink tutu, stood tall as the audience erupted in applause. It was a visual symphony of shimmering silk, sparkling gems and the sheer, breathtaking joy of the dance.
Today, after indulging in a delicious (and entirely pink, of course!) macaron at Ladurée, I spent the morning strolling through the Tuileries Garden. Its tranquil ponds and manicured greenery gave me a welcome respite from the urban symphony of Parisian life. It was the perfect opportunity for a quiet ballet stretch under the dappled sunshine. I mean, what else could you possibly do when surrounded by such beauty?!
This afternoon, I’m off to a Parisian ballet class. A little pink tutu practice amongst Parisian prima ballerinas. What a privilege! I’m sure I'll pick up some invaluable tips from the legendary teachers of the Paris Opera.
I'll be sharing my adventures on this little pink tutu blog. Don’t forget to check back later for more details!
In the meantime, do tell me your favourite pink tutu moments! Do you think everyone should give ballet a go? I firmly believe that every girl needs to experience the sheer joy of swirling around in a pink tutu!
Until next time, stay glamorous and keep dancing! 🩰💖
Emma
www.pink-tutu.com
