Have you heard the story of The Twelve Princesses? It was one of my favorites, growing up. 12 princesses are found night after night, with their heels so worn and their bodies so tired that their father the King worried what they were up to. He invited men, princes and nobility to try and solve the mystery. In return he offers one of his daughters as a wife to the one who can solve it. A common man finds out the truth, that they drug their guards and escape in the middle of the night. Through an underground passage and crossing a lake by boat, they go to a ball, night after night after night, until their feet are sore and their soles give out.
Ive always had that dream, the ones many little girls have, of princesses and ball gowns, and dancing your heart away. I never thought I would be able to live it one day and it is so difficult to describe what it feels like to have your childhood dreams come true.
The hall was splendid. The grand hall of the former winter palace of the emperor. High painted ceilings, a live band playing in the corner. A live choir accompanying the beginning of the ball. Ladies in ball gowns, some more princessy than others. With their long white gloves holding a small bouquet of flowers. The men all around me, dressed in their finest. Tailcoats and suit jackets, and bow ties all around.
The call that the ball was open and the movement to the open space. Twirling and dancing unknown sometimes to a waltz or a foxtrot. Laughter all around as elegant people tried to sidestep others. The Austrian men standing out with their command of steps and their lead of their ladies.
At midnight, the shoe falls off, but only to be replaced with ballet flats to continue the night away. Only when the call for the quadrille comes do I don again my high heels.
I am partnerless, the friend who was accompanying me earlier having left to sleep. My other friends call out to find someone who is free and a reply from the group next to us of a free man who wants to dance.
He is handsome, oh so very handsome and has the happiness and confidence of a young man. We end up sitting on the side, unable to find another partner to dance the quadrille with, and so we chat.
He is Italian, a young man of perhaps 22 or 23. He loves balls and with his friends had chosen to dance in the ball rather than going clubbing. It is more fun here he says, and I am happy to agree. He is well trained, having been forced to go to dance school from the age of 16 to 18. He explains the dance steps to me and sings along with the conductor "der herr voraus, der Herr voraus, die dame hinterdrein"
We step up and immediately start dancing when the quadrille ends and the galloping begins. He leads me all the way, my laughter ringing loud as we merge into the crowd.
They play a classical waltz, and we dance. Waltz being his specialty, the one he knows the best. I am amazed as this young good looking man leads me strongly through the halls, managing his way around the crowds, never missing a beat. He sings to the the beat as well, and as he twirls me, and twirls me and twirls me, the paintings up above seem to smile and there I was in the most magical moment of my life. Dancing, returning in the arms of youth.
Ive always had that dream, the ones many little girls have, of princesses and ball gowns, and dancing your heart away. I never thought I would be able to live it one day and it is so difficult to describe what it feels like to have your childhood dreams come true.
The hall was splendid. The grand hall of the former winter palace of the emperor. High painted ceilings, a live band playing in the corner. A live choir accompanying the beginning of the ball. Ladies in ball gowns, some more princessy than others. With their long white gloves holding a small bouquet of flowers. The men all around me, dressed in their finest. Tailcoats and suit jackets, and bow ties all around.
The call that the ball was open and the movement to the open space. Twirling and dancing unknown sometimes to a waltz or a foxtrot. Laughter all around as elegant people tried to sidestep others. The Austrian men standing out with their command of steps and their lead of their ladies.
At midnight, the shoe falls off, but only to be replaced with ballet flats to continue the night away. Only when the call for the quadrille comes do I don again my high heels.
I am partnerless, the friend who was accompanying me earlier having left to sleep. My other friends call out to find someone who is free and a reply from the group next to us of a free man who wants to dance.
He is handsome, oh so very handsome and has the happiness and confidence of a young man. We end up sitting on the side, unable to find another partner to dance the quadrille with, and so we chat.
He is Italian, a young man of perhaps 22 or 23. He loves balls and with his friends had chosen to dance in the ball rather than going clubbing. It is more fun here he says, and I am happy to agree. He is well trained, having been forced to go to dance school from the age of 16 to 18. He explains the dance steps to me and sings along with the conductor "der herr voraus, der Herr voraus, die dame hinterdrein"
We step up and immediately start dancing when the quadrille ends and the galloping begins. He leads me all the way, my laughter ringing loud as we merge into the crowd.
They play a classical waltz, and we dance. Waltz being his specialty, the one he knows the best. I am amazed as this young good looking man leads me strongly through the halls, managing his way around the crowds, never missing a beat. He sings to the the beat as well, and as he twirls me, and twirls me and twirls me, the paintings up above seem to smile and there I was in the most magical moment of my life. Dancing, returning in the arms of youth.
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