Ballerina Diary

as porcelain-perfect as the obediently twirling ballerina in her jewellery box. The presentation of this rigid, pre-conceived ideal almost devalues the idea of perfectionism. Sure, what aspiring young dancer wouldn’t want to dance an immaculate Swan Queen (especially in that stunning Rodarte costume)? I certainly had plenty of pictures of lone, pink-clad ballerinas in idealistic sun-dappled studios lining my childhood bedroom walls. But what a dancer learns very quickly, when they get to an age where they must take training seriously, is that the path to that jewellery box, pastel-perfect dream is stained with blood, sweat and tears.

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