I've got a photo of a ballet dancer for you today. Oh, it seems like such a long time since that photo was taken. Five years: just before she left Primary School and moved on to other things.
Seems like a whole lot longer again since I gave up ballet. That was after about three weeks of lessons, one pair of specially ordered shoes because my feet were so tiny, and one altered leotard. But I was six, we had just moved to a new town, with a new school, and staying on late in the afternoons just felt like a little too much. No, I'm not often a quitter, but after school ballet had me beat.
I'll be honest, though. I'll let you in on a secret. It wasn't just the newness of it all. it was partly down to that leotard. See, I did learn some things in my three weeks of lessons: how to jump with straight legs (that came in useful when I wanted to pogo as a teenage punk, later in life), that was one. And I learned that ballet has a lot of rules. There are ways of doing things: you stand where you are told (in the pink circle, chalked on the floor, beside the girl who never smiles), you pretend to be a tree or a fairy or a swan, without argument, and you wear exactly what it says on the list. That would be a plain black leotard. That's what the teacher asked for. That's what my Mum bought...
...but my Mum knew I needed encouragement and she tried to help. One day, when I wasn't there to stop her - argh I wasn't there to stop her - she decided to tutu-up the leotard. How can I best describe it? Quickly, I think, so I get it over with. She sewed layers of lace on. And it did look much prettier. But it wasn't right. It so wasn't right. It wasn't the same as the others How could I tell her? I hung up my shoes. I'd had enough.
But The (Not So) Small One, who also started when she was about six, kept going. She had pink tights and pink shoes and hair that had to go into a bun. Every Monday. Three O'Clock. Sharp. And when Get It Scrapped asked for a page using tulle, her pink skirt, which still hangs in her wardrobe, was the first thing I thought of.
I found a piece of tulle and I gathered it into a ruffle to put on a page. It covers the journaling, just a little, those words about buying the right uniform and fitting in with the crowd. Ballet Rules, but - woa, does ballet have rules.
You can find more ideas for using tulle in Get It Scrapped's new article Scrapbooking Ideas For Adding Tulle to Your Pages