When I was a kid, I thought ballerinas were the epitome of grace and femininity. If I hurt myself, I would try to imagine ballerinas to take my mind off the pain - it never worked. I still like the image of ballerinas, such feather-light flitters, but at heart, as you know, I am more of the Martha Graham school. And ballerina-ing is a brutal sport/artform.
Below, some photos I took when I got home from wearing my tutu for photos downtown. There was no way I was going to wrestle that tutu back into its itsy-bitsy space bag in a public restroom. You can see the lurex threads next to the fuzzy yarn stripes. And the men's shoes.
Below, some photos I took when I got home from wearing my tutu for photos downtown. There was no way I was going to wrestle that tutu back into its itsy-bitsy space bag in a public restroom. You can see the lurex threads next to the fuzzy yarn stripes. And the men's shoes.
One of the most moving ballet performances I have ever seen was by Editta Sherman, a photographer and dancer who lived in Carnegie Hall in New York, in a clip included in the Bill Cunningham documentary. She danced with the moon in her home studio.
I can't give you details offhand, except to say that I remember how wonderful I felt watching her. There is a silent version of her dancing posted on YouTube. A true artist, she sadly passed in November 2013.
Trying out my tough version of an off-duty non-ballerina.
Below, does this tutu make my ass look big?
Have you got a tulle skirt? Dress? A tutu? I always wanted a tutu and finally found this one at My Sister's Closet, not $5, but still a good deal. What was most fun about this tutu was the feeling that I don't have to be graceful when I'm wearing it with my man shoes and man coat and man shirt. Plus, people don't squish you out of your seat in the coffee shop when you're wearing a tutu. Heh.
Have a great week!
