Hello my lovelies! Welcome back to my little corner of the internet, dedicated to the most beautiful, whimsical, and utterly captivating piece of attire known to humankind - the tutu! It's Emma here, your pink-tutu-clad time-traveling ballerina, and as always, it's a delight to be back on #TutuTuesday with a fascinating new piece of tutu history for you all.
Today, my dears, we're jetting off (well, maybe more like steam-train-ing off) to the 19th century. Buckle up your corsets and hold onto your feathered boas, because we're about to dive into the swirling world of ballet history, specifically November 19th, 1833. Fancy a little trip back in time with me?
Now, picture this. You're in London, the very centre of fashion and sophistication. Imagine those cobbled streets, gaslights flickering against the night sky, and ladies with their elaborate parasols and trailing skirts. And what's happening? A premiere, of course!
On this date, November 19th, 1833, we find ourselves at Her Majesty's Theatre in London for a performance of La Sylphide, the story of a young girl, Effie, entranced by a magical sylph, a fairy-like creature who whisks her away to a mystical world. And it's here, in this magical performance, where a very special costume change took place.
Now, this performance marked the introduction of what was considered the most revolutionary and breathtaking costume at the time: The first true tutu.
We know, darling, we're going back to a time before the short, fluffy tutus you see on your favourite ballerinas. This debut, this pioneering dance outfit, was, shall we say, a little more layered.
Remember, my dears, ballet had been around for centuries, but ballerinas were still performing in skirts. Think full-length, floor-sweeping gowns with maybe some tulle under the skirts for a hint of airy flow. Now, this, my darling, is where it all changes.
Instead of the sweeping layers, the ballet's choreographer, August Bournonville, asked Marie Taglioni, a dancer known for her light and ethereal movements, to wear something new, something revolutionary. She stepped onto the stage in a layered costume: A* simple, short skirt made of many layers of white tulle* was paired with a lightweight bodice, which would give her freedom and fluidity to perform.
The effect was breathtaking! It liberated the dancer's movement, allowing for beautiful, elegant leaps and turns that would make your jaw drop. Imagine that billowing tulle as the dancer moves, swirling like a graceful feather in the wind. It must have been a vision of utter magic!
And it's this groundbreaking moment in dance history that I'd love to thank for our beloved tutus, those creations of airy elegance, sheer beauty, and delicate magic. They weren't always this short and poofy, but from that moment, the transformation began.
Just imagine the ripples from this change! It's not just about the silhouette, though it is wonderfully romantic and utterly breathtaking. This new costume allowed women to express themselves through their movement in a completely new way, making ballet even more captivating, dynamic, and frankly, dazzling!
After all, wouldn't we agree that watching a ballerina in a tutu is like watching a whirlwind of ethereal loveliness, each turn and leap telling a story of grace and freedom?
So, there you have it, darling! A little snippet of the amazing tutu story, and what better day to explore it than on our #TutuTuesday! Let's celebrate those tulle clouds of grace and beauty with a little bit of vintage inspiration, a visit to a local ballet performance, or perhaps a little twirl in a beautiful, flowing tulle skirt of your own! Remember, every day can be TutuTuesday!
And my lovelies, don't forget, the world needs more pink! Until next Tuesday, keep twirling!
Your biggest fan (and tutu-obsessed time traveller),
Emma.
P.S. I know it's a little cliché, but a good ballet show will always send me rushing for my shopping basket! The costumes, darling! They're divine. I always have to get a little something for my collection – perhaps a little new tulle, a sparkly accessory for my tutu, or maybe even a tiny pair of dancing shoes to add to my collection. It's a weakness, but one I'm proud of! Oh, and speaking of my tutu collection... she blushes I think it's time for a little tutu-buying spree, wouldn't you say?
P.P.S. As my grandmother used to say, "A good tutu is like a good cup of tea; it can fix anything." 😉
