Steppin' Out

Okay, this one isn't a ballet costume, though it was drawn for my ballerina dolly. I was dating a guy who was SUPER IN TO his Irish heritage, can you tell? AH the follies of youth. Anywayssss... I remember very carefully researching step dancing shoes for this outfit. You can tell I got bored when it came time to design the knot work.
I imagine that stage moms spend ridiculous amounts of money on elaborately detailed dresses for their daughter's competitions. I just went online to check it out and guess what? Things have changed in the last eleven years. A lot of the dresses don't look a thing like this anymore. They've changed but not in a good way, if you know what I mean.
Anyway, I have put this up because I am still enamored with the silhouette of this silly thing. And also, kind of pagan details, younger me! Way to go, kid!

French for "stupid looking"

There are things that I don't like doing because they just feel weird. Or look weird. Assemblé is both of those things. It feels awkward and it looks strange. I can't imagine a character for whom assemblé would be appropriate. Except maybe a frog. It's a frog move. Like, Jeremy Fisher. There is a Beatrix Potter ballet. I bet it uses assemblé.

Grands Battements, Bitches!

I was really enjoying grands battements last night. I don't know why, because my hips make this distressing *pop!* every single time I battement to the front. But, I was just really in to it last night. Like HELL YEAH I can grands battement! Check this OUT bitches!
I suppose my extension is slightly better than it used to be. To the side, anyway, I can even get to or above 90* (I think). Maybe that is it. Or maybe ballet is just FUN.

Ain't Nobody Lookin' At You

I'm naturally deeply self conscious. I am not pretty, which is probably a good thing because I would just spend all day looking at myself in the mirror if I was. The point is that adults taking ballet classes are super self conscious because they feel old and lumpy and uncoordinated and much less graceful than the image of balletic perfection in their heads.
Which is the only explanation I can come up with for the fact that most people refuse to wear a leotard without at least a skirt or shorts to cover up with. And a sweater, sometimes. It is WAY too freakin' hot in the studio for me to deal with all those extra layers so I am often the only person in class (there were 13 students tonight!) who is wearing the standard ballet "uniform" of pink tights and shoes, black leo, and nothing else. Aw man. I love clothes. I love dress up. I love having hobbies with accessories and shoes and special things to wear. It's fun! Come on ladies! Step up to it!
Face it, even when we feel extra junky about our body the simple fact is that no one is paying any attention to you because they are focused on what they are doing. Like, no matter how many times tonight I wanted to see what the lady in the deshanked pointe shoes was doing in releve sous-sus, I was too busy getting myself up there to check on anyone else!

Why Ballet?

Why did I decide to take ballet? Again? Hmm. Let's see. I love dancing, so I just really wanted to take some form of dance class. I have been looking pensively at studio web sites for the last six years or so (when I moved away from my suburban home and my community center belly dance class). I tried a few times to convince my husband (for whom, bless his heart, physical coordination is an afterthought) to take tango lessons but that was obviously not ever going to happen. I attempted to take a belly dance class with a friend of mine a couple of years back, but when we got to the studio the teacher and students were, and I am not kidding here, toking up on a bong in the classroom between sessions. I mean WHAT. There is another studio in my immediate area that does belly dance classes, but the instructor is an old nemesis of mine from back when I worked in retail. Woman is obnoxious. So I tried to find any kind of dance class at a community center or something... but there wasn't anything available for adults.
And then I went online and saw pretty ballet shoes.
Again.
It is my fatal flaw. I first decided I had to take ballet years ago when I ran across Gaynor Minden's website. I don't even know how I landed there. I just did. And then it was all photos of pointe shoes and pink ribbons and the logic center in my brain just turned right the heck off. This time I am pretty sure it was looking at the product photo for these Grishko technique shoes. I just died a little inside.
My natural dancing style is very unrefined. Far more Isadora Duncan than Darcy Bussell. I am particularly fond of dancing around to Florence and the Machine right now. In a sort of wild modern-slash-ballet hybrid. It's pretty ridiculous.

Self Defeat

I'm usually really good about stretching. I allow myself one day per week to be lazy about it but I really do try to keep up with a little stretching time every day. Except this week. In which I have sort of stretched kind of half way a little bit maybe on Monday. Ugh.
Once you stop you don't really want to get going again, you know? Stretching is boring and doesn't feel like it does anything for me and so I just... poodle around.
Poodle around. That should mean something, don't you think? You should be able to poodle around.
Also, I kind of want a shirt or something that says "dance because you can't" on it.

Yes Sir!

On Friday my teacher was trying to explain coupé derriere to someone who wasn't quite getting it. Because in front you are wrapping your foot around your leg, right? But in back you are angling your foot out all weird. So I said "pretend you are wrapping your foot around someone else's leg back there" and that seemed to do the trick. Teacher was impressed by the description, but honestly I only know what I am talking about because my first ballet teacher, a million years ago, was a very cute young man, and he stood directly behind me and told me to wrap my foot around his leg.
You don't forget that.