Another great scheme they cooked up was to send me to ballet classes. I started very young, probably round 5 or 6. It was the sort of thing one did to further their child's educational experiences. Being fat and round, I was not comfortable squeezing into those little pink shoes and standing in a line being ordered: first position, second position, arabesque, plie...... and on and on. Why the hell couldn't this emaciated scarecrow of a woman puffing away on her cigarette within the long sleek black holder just speak English? It was torture. Then came the exams, both practical and theoretical. I managed to pass them all, but no 'highly recommended' for me. Then there were the regular performances for the parents. I was always the fat girl in the middle, struggling to keep up. I fell in love with Margot Fonteyn and Nureyev, and swore I would grow up to be like them one day. Dream on, little fat girl! I still love the ballet, and my all time favourite is 'Swan Lake'. I ache every time I see it, with vivid memories of those years.
