random thoughts – Day 1,632 – (Thursday) – (re)intro

Early ballet days.

As a six-year-old first grader, I was introduced to ballet. Mom and Mummu thought it was a good idea. (It was.) The Alice Corliss Dance School was chosen because it was close to where we were living and also close to where Mummu lived. This was a consideration back in the days when families had only one car and had to walk to a lot of places.

There was one year we were ducks in the recital and wore white bodysuits with yellow net tails and felt beaks on our heads. There was a year or two when we wore a green costume with red roses all over it. In all the years I took ballet as a kid (first through twelfth grade) we had formal photos done only once. The only other dance photos in existence are those taken by family, usually blurry and with our heads cut off.

The dance school also taught tap and jazz. I wasn’t allowed to take tap because Mom, who was a drummer in school and practiced on the woodwork at home to annoy Mummu, said tap was “too noisy.” When I was older (third or fourth grade) I also took jazz. Our costume had a long fringe of metallic gold that looked like Christmas tree icicles. 

Last week, after years (no lie, YEARS) of looking for ballet classes for adults that weren’t “Mommy and Me,” absolute beginner, or professional level, a sponsored post showed up in my Facebook feed for an adult ballet class called “(re)intro to ballet for adults.” Bingo and hallelujah, we finally have a winner!

The best part was, the class was starting in a few days so I didn’t have much time to talk myself out of it. It’s only five weeks long, so it’s not a major life commitment. After thinking about it for a day or two, and deliberating on the realities of driving to Wayland for a class, on Labor Day, I enrolled online.

Footwear contenders for dance class.

Tonight was the first class. I barely had time to dig out my old dance shoes. And by “old,” I mean, last used in the last century, therefore, practically old enough to qualify as a museum exhibit. (Packrat, much?) 

The jazz flats, leather ballet slippers, and a totally broken pair of pointe shoes that I used to wear as classroom ballet shoes were unearthed and tossed into a bag to go to class. The character shoes and satin pointe shoes were not taken out for this little experiment.

There are lots of fresh new ballet slippers available from sellers online, but the problem that I remember from when I used to buy them regularly, is that dance shoe sizes are not the same as street shoe sizes, and vary between brands. I can't find anything in the brand of my old slippers to get the same size and brand. It could be a real crap shoot ordering online, where most of the customer comments and returns are related to size. I might benefit from finding some in a brick and mortar store. Or, as a more practical, economical matter, sewing some new elastics onto the ones I already have.

The class was fun. Not rollicking, rowdy, fun. It was more like, hey my brain remembers the names of these movements and my body still remembers how to do this and I didn’t die fun. I ended up wearing the soft leather ballet slippers with the stretched out elastics. There might be some muscles screaming at me tomorrow, but so far, so good. I'm looking forward to going back next week.