But the painting itself is lovely. It reminds me of ballerinas somehow. Or maybe pink champagne.
My home doesn't have a pink room, but if it did, I would want something like this hanging in it.
Showing posts with label ballerina dress. Show all posts
Showing posts with label ballerina dress. Show all posts
A Year of Pretty - February 28, 2014
Today's Pretty Post is this delicate pink canvas painting. I don't know who the artist is, which is a shame. The photo is from Pinterest, with the source being simply a defunct flickr account. Sad.
But the painting itself is lovely. It reminds me of ballerinas somehow. Or maybe pink champagne.
My home doesn't have a pink room, but if it did, I would want something like this hanging in it.
But the painting itself is lovely. It reminds me of ballerinas somehow. Or maybe pink champagne.
My home doesn't have a pink room, but if it did, I would want something like this hanging in it.
A Year of Pretty - February 27, 2014
These dresses.....like soft chiffon ice cream.
I want to live in these dresses.
These dresses......to run along the shore with toes in the sand.
The dreams that will come true in these dresses.
I want to live in these dresses.
These dresses......to run along the shore with toes in the sand.
The dreams that will come true in these dresses.
A Year of Pretty - January 27, 2014
I found the photo on Pinterest. There was no credit given to the photographer. I have no idea where the photo originated from. I know, I know....so disappointing.
You can almost feel the anxiety of waiting in the dancers . . .wait . . . wait . . . okay, GO now!
I like how each dress is a little different from the next. Knowing how many hours of handwork are involved in making a performance dance tutu, I can only surmise that these dresses would run about $5,000.00 to $8,000.00 each and take weeks to complete. Costumes are intended to last for many years; The Royal Ballet will use costumes for 25 to 30 years!
The one area of the costume that sees the most wear and damage is at the waist line, but actually doesn't come from the dancer herself. Instead, it's a result of those sweaty man-hands of her male partner when he continually lifts her or holds her as she spins. This very often causes the fabric to discolour and deteriorate.
One of my dream jobs (yes, I have a few) would be to work on dresses such as these and then see them in action under the lights, full of movement and grace as they move across the stage.
For a great video on the life of a performance tutu, be sure to watch this video from the New York City Ballet, narrated by Mark Happel, Director of Costumes. Or this one from The Royal Ballet on the making of the Lilac Fairy's costume for Sleeping Beauty.
Enjoy your day and best wishes for the week ahead.
Beautiful Ballerinas
When I think of the word ballerina, a few images come to
mind. Beauty. Poise. Grace. It is no wonder so many parents enroll their little
girls (or boys for that matter) in ballet classes. For the child, it’s a chance
to play dress-up and dance around the room to music. For the adult, it’s the
opportunity to live vicariously through those moments. Go on, admit it.
My mom was a dancer until her late teens. There are several pictures of her en pointe, tulle tutu sticking stiffly out around her. I too was enrolled in ballet; mom took me to buy the shoes and she patiently worked with gauzy chiffon to sew me my first dance skirt. I remember wearing these to grandpa’s house because I was insistent in showing him my steps. He was so proud, but maybe some of that pride was remembering another little dancer – my mom – when she was young.
Even the word Ballet contains a certain degree of beauty in
the height and rhythm of the letters: up for b, down for a, then two stilts in
the middle like dancer’s legs for the l’s, down again for e and finally up for
the t. Up, down, up-up, down, up. Sort of like skipping along.
Now say it with me….”Ballet…I’m going to the ballet.” You drew
out the second syllable and gave it a slight French air at the end, didn’t you?
This week I found some lovely ballerina fabric in two
colours: yellow and purple. It also comes in pink, but it wasn’t in stock (not
surprised). And so I’m working on designing a dress that showcases both the
fabric and those three hallmark elements: Beauty. Poise. Grace; while still
being functional enough for every day wear.
Because if I were still a little girl, I’d want to feel like a ballerina as often as possible.
My mom was a dancer until her late teens. There are several pictures of her en pointe, tulle tutu sticking stiffly out around her. I too was enrolled in ballet; mom took me to buy the shoes and she patiently worked with gauzy chiffon to sew me my first dance skirt. I remember wearing these to grandpa’s house because I was insistent in showing him my steps. He was so proud, but maybe some of that pride was remembering another little dancer – my mom – when she was young.
I ended my ballet early on though; I told my mom the change room
was stuffy and stunk and I didn’t want to go back. So we focused on ice skating
and swimming. But every once in a while I think about trying an adult ballet
class to improve elements common in dancers of the genre: Poise and Grace.
Even the word Ballet contains a certain degree of beauty in
the height and rhythm of the letters: up for b, down for a, then two stilts in
the middle like dancer’s legs for the l’s, down again for e and finally up for
the t. Up, down, up-up, down, up. Sort of like skipping along.
Now say it with me….”Ballet…I’m going to the ballet.” You drew
out the second syllable and gave it a slight French air at the end, didn’t you? Because if I were still a little girl, I’d want to feel like a ballerina as often as possible.
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