my adult ballet class....

so, last night was my first ballet class in 13 years. i was so anxious to start. so many thoughts going through my mind.... "can i still do this?" "am i too fat now to start this?" "will i fit in?" i had visions of several physically fit women in class together, who had been dancing together for a while, and who were all relatively good dancers. i was a wreck...

i get there early, for the first time in my life. making small talk with the receptionist, she informs me that the class is small and several of the women have had to drop out for various reasons. class starts, and besides me and the teacher, there is only one other student. a 74 year old woman, who shall be referred to as "M.A." and, obviously, M.A. is not your typical 74 year old. she is fit. and she is full of energy. and she is cuckoo for cocoa puffs.

when i first met M.A., she was waiting outside the class, just as i was. but, that is where our similarities end. I, who has not danced in 13 years, 50 pounds, and 2 kids, do not own any "dance attire" or ballet slippers any longer. and my anxiety kept me from running out and buying a tu-tu and slippers. so, i was dressed in cut-off black yoga pants, with a red stripe down the legs and a gray and black army t-shirt that i stole from my husband approximately ten years ago and have since cut out the neck. And, having come straight from work, while shoveling a subway sub down my throat while driving, my short hair was thrown back in to a ponytail by a combination of clips and hairbands i stole from my six year old daughter. M.A., however, was standing next to the door, with her long white hair in an elaborate up-sweep, with a long, lavender, chiffon scarf wrapped around her head, and trailing down into her calf-length lavender coat. Everything about her was shiny. her make-up was shiny. her coat was shiny. her white tights were shiny. the one-inch heeled lavender-dyeable shoes were shiny.

our teacher interrupted my gawking and ushered us into the studio. she was giving me brief instructions and introductions, before telling us to stretch while she stepped out for a few minutes. that's when i noticed that M.A. had taken off her coat and was stretching at the bar. yep, she had her 74 year old leg lopped up onto the bar and was plie-ing like she hadn't missed a beat. but it took a while for that to register, as i was immediately taken by her outfit. in addition to the previously mentioned shiny white tights and lavender chiffon head scarf, M.A. was wearing a top that was also lavender. and it was also chiffon. a lot of chiffon. and the best way i can describe it is a "vintage tank top." it had to be decades old, very frilly, voluminous, and low-cut on the sides. but, do not assume that M.A. was immodest. oh no. she had her chiffon head scarf intricately tucked into her shirt and around her breasts, so that nothing was revealed. all the while, it was also still wrapped around her head.

and as i was able to pass by the top, i noticed she was wearing bottoms, of course. they were underwear. not your Hanes Her Way. oh no. M.A. was rocking out some white lace panties, showing her butt cleavage and curly parts. and they were a little big for her, so she safety-pinned them on the sides.

i couldn't make this up if i tried.

i'm going back next week.

i'm gonna smuggle in a camera.