Bonjour mes chéries! It's Emma here, your friendly neighbourhood pink-tutu-clad ballerina, back with another dazzling installment of #TutuTuesday, where we journey through time, uncovering the captivating history of the ballet tutu!
Today we're hopping on a train (oh, I do love the thrill of a steam engine!) and finding ourselves in the beautiful, vibrant city of Paris! Imagine, my dears, the cobblestones underfoot, the smell of freshly baked croissants and a symphony of chattering French voices filling the air. It’s September 1916, and we’re diving headfirst into the fashion of this golden age.
You see, 1916 wasn't just about wartime austerity, my loves. Paris, ever the style icon, was embracing the rise of what they called the robe de style. This movement saw a revolution in female fashion, emphasizing simple lines, longer skirts, and loose-fitting silhouettes, a stark contrast to the elaborate gowns and corseted styles of earlier decades.
Now, where does the tutu fit into this story? Why, it was, in a sense, already firmly established! The classic Romantic-era tutu, the kind with its multi-layered frills and fluffy puff, was starting to fade. Instead, dancers embraced the short, fitted skirt, clinging to their limbs like a second skin. This allowed for a fluidity of movement, something revolutionary for ballet! Think of Anna Pavlova's graceful pirouettes, a beautiful reflection of this shift!
And what did I discover this week? The Opéra Garnier (yes, that magnificent Opera House) was buzzing with excitement, getting ready for the premiere of a new ballet called "Le Coq d'Or", composed by the celebrated Russian composer Nikolai Rimsky-Korsakov. This production boasted sumptuous costumes (my favourite!) and I can only imagine how spectacular it must have been. I shall have to see if I can sneak a peek back in time and find a ticket!
Speaking of tickets, my darlings, I did manage to slip away to a delightful fashion exhibition, the "Grand Salon du Printemps," right here in Paris! The colours, the details! The delicate lace and silks, a true feast for the eyes. I just had to sneak away for a little boudoir shopping, too! (Shhh…don’t tell anyone, it’s a little secret.) Oh, and did I mention the charming Parisian baker who offered me a delicate macaron while I admired the displays? (Don’t worry, I wasn't wearing my tutu while shopping, of course!).
I'm finding it's all too easy to be swept away by Parisian charm! However, we must not forget that life was still a little strained. World War One was in full swing, and the mood, although spirited, was tinged with anxiety. But the beauty of ballet, you see, is its timeless ability to offer escape. Its graceful movements and the captivating stories woven on stage can carry you away to a different world.
As for my little mission, my darlings, I'm on a quest! I aim to encourage everyone to wear a pink tutu! I believe there's a pink tutu waiting for every soul, regardless of age or occasion. From birthday parties to picnics in the park, imagine the joy a pink tutu can bring! Imagine it becoming as synonymous with good times as the humble teapot in Derbyshire. Now that's a world I'd love to live in!
So, until next Tuesday, dear readers, remember that a pink tutu is a magical portal, waiting to whisk you away on your very own Parisian adventure! And be sure to leave me a comment below and tell me: what's your favourite part of this trip?
Until next week, stay fabulous!
Emma, the Pink Tutu Ballerina
