Yeah, I Know…

Pointe Shoes: Hey dude, what’s the deal, you haven’t worn me in class since like December. Where’s the love, I thought you liked to dance with us.

Me: Well, I did, but the more I wore you the more my ankle hurt.

PS: Hey dude, don’t try to blame that on me, you’ve have had that problem for years.

Me: Yeah, but I’m good at blaming others for my problems (laughing).

PS: You totally threw us under the bus.

Me: Yep, I sure did. But, I discovered something. I had forgotten what it’s like to dance in my soft shoes, it’s a completely different experience that I had nearly forgotten. No offense to you guys, but I felt like I was clomping around with you, like when you try to walk in ski boots, less than graceful. The softies felt like I was dancing on clouds.

PS: Oh yeah, blaming the tools are you? I’d say you should blame the operator.

Me: Easy there, I love ya. I pulled you out and wore you tonight, the first time in months. And do you want to know what? It was great, not even a twinge of pain. Probably not the best idea right now, but what the hell.

PS: Oh, I know, it was fun. It seemed like you knew what you were doing.

Me: I know, it was fun. You can thank a couple of the girls in class one of which also en pointe and were wondering why I wasn’t wearing you lately. We will do more, I promise. As long as the ankle feels good, we will be good. Meanwhile, back in the bag, see you soon.

Me: BTW, you were famous for a few months, your photo was used on an online dance wear site.

PS: Yep, I did know, I’m quite good looking. I can’t believe you made them take that photo of me.

Pointe Shoes and Tutu

I’m thrilled that you have enjoyed my past pieces. As promised here is one more. Enjoy.

What I Did On My Summer Break

So yeah, I’m suffering through a long ass break in our summer schedule, a three week break that at times feels it may never end. Luckily for me, I can see the light at the end of the tunnel, Thursday is a short five days away, aw hell let’s say three, it’s almost midnight now. Anyway, it hasn’t been easy, all work and no ballet make Jack a dull boy.

I’ve done what I can to distract myself all I can, I haven’t had this much free time off from ballet since I called it quits when I got out of grad school back in the Bush administration. So I’m sure your thinking, gee Mr Blog Writer, just what did you do to make it through it through these daunting almost three weeks of late August two-thousand eleven?

Were you balled up in the fetal position while gently sobbing? Yes, most of the time. And how did you know that?

Did you learn a new language? No, I’m sticking with this one language thing.

Did you do something good for society? No, sorry.

Did you call that cute girl who gave you her number? No, but I will, I promise! Jeeze get off my back already.

Did you write that article for the GUB site? Well, I started it but I don’t like how it’s going.

Did you travel anywhere exciting? No, I haven’t gone anywhere since last summer when I traipsed around South America.

Did you use your Theraband like you said you were going to do? Ah, well not everyday. OK no. And don’t ask about stretching every day either because the answer is surprisingly the same.

Did you resolve what classes you are going to take next term? Well kinda, I’ll keep my Thursday and Saturday classes, but finding a Ballerina Class ™ that fits my crazy schedule is causing problems.

So what if anything did you do for nearly a better part of a month? Well, there was the pool I had to make sure the water stayed wet, or did that water get me instead? I didn’t die running the Warrior Dash along with Ballet Companion (two people did). I bounced two checks, oops. I made sure the internet was functioning at all hours of the day and night. I made snarky comments on others blogs. I went back to work, my annual three months of freedom has came to a close. Basically I did nothing of consequence, or did I?

Keeping the place clean.

Harder than it looks.

Yes, the bikes stay in the house, all of them.

I’m pretty sure I’m using these shoes in the proper way. However, it has been awhile and I could be wrong.

Small Talk

A brief conversation between me and my pointe shoes.

Pointe Shoe “What’s up dude, why haven’t you taken me to class in weeks, you quit ballet or something?”

Me “No, I didn’t quit, I’ve told you this already. Big City Fancy Pants Company School is taking its late summer three week vacation.”

PS “That’s complete bull shit! Three weeks, who takes a three week vacation?”

Me “I know, tell me about it. I want to take you to class too.  We had fun that first time didn’t we?”

PS “Yeah dude that was a blast!  I’m a pair of shoes, I can’t read or use a calendar, how much time until we go back?

Me “Ah, two weeks I think, give or take a day or two, probably.  By the way, I thought you would have some weird European accent, what’s up with that?”

PS “Dude, you’re a dumb ass, I speak American. It says Made In The USA right on my heels, in gold lettering, I can’t believe you didn’t notice that.”

Me “Actually, you speak English, but anyway.  I think it may have already worn off.”

PS “Also, why didn’t you clean off the blood you got on me when you were sewing my cool ass blue ribbons?  I look good with the blue, by the way. But what’s up with the pink? Your other shoes aren’t pink, they’re white.”

Me ” You know I can’t sew, it seemed like it took hours to sew those ribbons and elastics on you. I poked my fingers with the needle several times. Yeah the blue works, looks good.  As for the blood, I thought about cleaning that off, but I saw it as part of the process, call it a badge of honor. I’m sure that will not be the last blood to end up on you.

I’m not sure why your pink, tradition maybe? I guess since girls want to match their shoes to their pink tights. I could have special ordered you in black, but that would have taken weeks to get, cost more and you were expensive enough to start with. And don’t even ask, I’m not doing pink tights.

PS “Yeah, I’m expensive!  I’m full of space age technology, high tech shit all up in here!  So quit your bitching about the price! Plus you’re a baller, and get nothing but the best.  Yeah, you’d look stupid in pink tights, stick with the black ones you already wear.”

Me “True that. And you don’t need to raise your voice at me… we cool?”

PS “We’re cool… just like Fonzie. I’m sorry, I get cranky some times. I was cooped up in the back of that dancewear shop for months, they don’t sell many size elevens. I was afraid there weren’t any girls with feet this big and I’d be back there forever. Then you bought me, I was so stoked, you gave me these cool ribbons and took me to class that one time, then nothing.”

Me “This again? I told you earlier, give it another few weeks and all will be cool, I give you permission to mangle my feet. We watch TV and rock out / practice together all the time, where’s the love?

Plus, I don’t feel all wobbly all the time like I did when I first got you,  I don’t feel like you’re going to cause me to snap my ankles any longer. So that’s good.”

PS “So what are we doing next? Aren’t you signing us up for Ballerina Class® this fall?

Me “That’s the plan. There is an adult pointe class on a night I don’t teach, if not we’ll keep our same class and do barre work en pointe. I’ll get it figured out.

PS “Hey, why aren’t you using your Theraband, you know you need to work on your right ankle. Just because it’s laying on the coffee table doesn’t mean you’re actually using it.

Me “Shut it!”

En Pointe, That Just Happened!

I’ve just lived what little girls around the world dream of, getting pointe shoes and I finishing my first pointe class, more accurately I finished the barre en point and I’m a dude. So that’s what you call me. You know, that or, uh, His Dudeness, or uh, Duder, or El Duderino if you’re not into the whole brevity thing.

If you were to tell me that I would have ever done anything en point I would have probably laughed in your face, not just a chuckle but a full on guffaw. I didn’t even know that guys even took pointe. Wow, how my ballet world has changed!!

With new pointe shoes in hand I presented them to the Teach’. “Ah, you went with the Gaynor Mindens, these are very good shoes, they will do you well, and you’ll have very strong feet. Oh and you have Ouch Pouches too, that was a smart idea.” She then proceeds to tell the lady in the office that she has a student starting pointe, with a proud parent tone of voice.

“If you want to do barre tonight your more than welcome, your strong enough that you should be fine.” Blah blah blah, boring technique type conversation follows. Along with a recap of my dumb bike and dental related injuries and procedures. Let’s just say It’s been a painful last couple of weeks.

Holy shit snacks! I can’t quite rap my head around what’s about to happen. Me, barre, pointe shoes, tippy toes… I plop down outside the studio and pay no attention to the blue leotards finishing their class, I sit there and fiddle with my ribbons, too tight, too loose… I probably tied and retied them a dozen times. Holy crap, am I really tying pointe shoe ribbons? It’s fo realz dawg!

The blue leotards scamper out and we walk in. I kinda’ clomp across the floor, your never going to sneak up on someone while wearing pointe shoes, never! I claim my spot at the barre and I have this feeling that every eyeball in the room is staring at my pink satin incased feet. I couldn’t have been more conspicuous. I did my best to act like it was no big deal, doesn’t everyone wear shoes that are tied to their legs?

I did my best not to look down to see these shinny pink puppies in action, I so wanted to. Oh but wait, that’s why they have those big ass mirrors in here. It reminded me of wearing white shoes after wearing dark shoes for the first time in a long time. I would see flashes of white along the ground as I walked or ran, now I’m seeing flashes of pink below as I did my best to look forward. Then it hits me, oh shit this excresise has a relevé or ends with a sous-sus studio, with a plié and a bit of pep in my step I was up there, OMG! Granted it was a little shaky but it was what it was. I got a very minor correction and the thumbs up from the Teach’ who’d been closely monitoring the situation.

It’s official, put it in the books, he’s en pointe at 6:39 pm CDT. The following 35-40 minutes were terrifyingly fun, each and every time up was so exciting, a bit surreal and ultimately exhausting.

All of a sudden I realized why were beaten over the head in each and every class with these seemingly insignificant corrections: heads up, shoulders down, pull up, use your core, straight backs, feel like your being lifted up by your hair, pliés are the key to everything… It all seemed to come together in an instant, each and everyone of those seemingly little things all fired as one the instant I wanted to rise to pointe. So f-ing awesome!

I’d be lying if I said I was glad barre was over. My dogs were barking up a storm. I’d never realized just how comfortable my soft shoes were until I slipped them on and stood up. Lately I’ve been wearing my really old shoes, the ones you see pictured below, they are completely bombed out and depleted but are so much more comfortable than my newer soft shoes. So what if they look like swiss cheese or the dog just got to them. Comfortable is comfortable, am I right?

What can I say about these shoes that hasn't already been said about Afganistan? It looks bombed out and depleted.

Now before you get your leotards in a bunch, I’ve also signed up for the Adult Pointe aka “Ballerina Class” (a term I’m stealing from Ms Adult Beginner, please do yourself a favor and go read her blog, it’s the bees knees) class too. If I’m going to do this I might as well do it right, right? Right.

Now, I’ve got three incredibly long weeks off from Big City Fancy Pants Company school before I can continue classes and pointe work. Major bummer dude. However, that gives me three weeks to beef up my right ankle, it’s not as strong as its side left companion. Right foot, meet Mr Threaband, Mr Threaband meet right foot, you will be seeing alot of each other.

Post-class conversation went well, the Teach’ said I did very well for my first time and should continue doing barre en pointe in her class (pumping fist!). Blah blah blah, more boring technique talk, and yes, work on the ankle. She noticed it too. “Practice the simple stuff if you want, but go slow.” And then again in the proud parent tone, to another instructor who was in the lobby with us. “He just took my class en point.”

Fuckin’ A! That just happened, That Just Happened!

Blue Ribbons

Pabst isn’t the only thing with blue ribbons.  Here they are my faithful readers, for the first time. Can I get a drum-roll please…

PBR- Pointe with Blue Ribbons

As you can see I went with blue ribbons, duh. Now I am a fan of the color pink but sewing pink ribbons was just too much pink for me.  Blue looks pretty boss though, but it wasn’t my first choice, I’m still on the lookout for something with a bit more attitude. I have received some great suggestions to manify them. Post any ideas you may have, thanks!

The OMG & WTF factor is still quite high.  At times I can’t believe I actually went ahead and bought these insane shoes.  Sewing ribbons and elestics was a task, I even drew blood and accidentally marked my shoes with my own DNA. So don’t be stealin’ my shoes bitches!

My Gaynor Mindens

Tomorrow I’ll be taking them to class tomorrow for show-and-tell with my instructor to get the final ok, then the ankle breaking and toe mangling will commence! However, Thursday will be the last class before a three week summer break, which means no ballet or pointe class until mid August (rolls eyes)! Oh, almost forgot, in case you were wondering what they are, Gaynor Minden 4-522-22, wide box, hard shank, deep vamp and a high heel and a cool green bag to carry them in. Pretty dope, eh?

Shoe Shoping

Shopping for pointe shoes is like wading into a see of pink satin a very strange and exciting experience, surreal. Something I’d never thought I do. Shopping for shoes in general has never been high my list of things I enjoy doing, I can hear the collective gasp of every woman in the world when reading that. Sorry ladies. To me it’s a task that must be done every so often. In addition I’m cursed with feet that are a size or so different, just enough that getting one pair of shoes just doesn’t cut it, one would either be too big or one too small. So it’s usually two sets of shoes, cha-ching!

I’ve done a fair bit of research on pointe shoes lately. Important stuff like they are usually pink, shinny, and thourghly confusing; boxes, vamps, shanks. All this time I thought shanks were weapons prisoners made with old tooth brushes.

Ghost Rider may have been denied a flyby but I was given the thumbs up from flight control for a tower flyby and to get pointe shoes if I wanted. I’m putting my trust into the poor shop girl who draws the short straw to steer me in the right direction and get fit for shoes. Now I see why many people go shopping with their teacher or another dancer who’s in the know.

Shop window #1.

I psyched myself up, walked in and asked for point shoes. No, I’m not some girls dad here to pick up shoes, they did ask that. I’m hear to BUY pointe shoes for moi. Trying to get that French lingo down as to pass as someone who should be buying such items.

The girl a bit confused looking scurries to back and returns with a truckload of pink satin covered shoes. I’m sitting here nervous as can be thinking what the fuck am I doing, dancing en point is fucking crazy, no?

The questions came flying at me and I sit there like a deer in the headlights. Just bring out stuff near my sizes and eventually something might work out. One is way too tight, way too loose, toes are squished… sitting there wearing those little pantyhose looking booties and ouch pads that were to small on my toes always falling off. WTF and OMG are now on constant rotation racing through my mind. After a few pairs, I forget what the brand was, they all look so much alike I lost track of what was what. Pink satin pointe shoes look nearly identical in my eyes.

Right foot.

“Ok, get up walk over to the barre, take first and pop up on the toes,” (please make a popping noise with your mouth as you read this) she asked. Before I could think WTF I’m all the way up, legs trembling a bit from nerves and the fear that I’ll fall and break both ankles, did I say I was a bundle of nerves going in. Anyway, perched on pointe, with a double handed death grip on the barre looking down as she inspects the fit and is probably looking at my huge bruises from last weeks mtb race on both knees. This is repeated over and over. Eventually what is on my feet seem to be the right combo. She thinks this is the right fit for me, she grabs ribbons, elastics and a box of ouch pads which are suprisingly expensive. She rings up my pile of pink satin and it’s only slightly more than I expected.

I normally would drive home as fast as I could and play with them like it was Christmas morning but it’s my sisters birthday and we are taking her out to eat across town.  I sat through the whole meal, which was very good, I had fish tacos BTW, all the while sitting there thinking of that bag of shoes out in the car.  I finally get home and slip them back on and I begin to notice that my toes in one shoe are rubbing the top of the box more than the other and I begin to wonder if I was a bit hasty in my purchase and need a different shoe.

Shop window #2.

I visited the shop near my house for a second opinion on the fit, same company owns this store and the one where I made my purchase earlier.  She agreed with me and the box was a bit narrow but they didn’t have the next size up, so it was a drive back across town to the original shop. They could have sent it over but it would have taken several days and I’m to anxious to get this done. Long story short, the next half size up worked, felt great and the exchange was made. Feels so much better, now let’s mangle those toes!

Shopping complete, let pointing commence!

Now, the goal is to manify these things. This is a ton of pink I’m toting around here. I’ve got some ideas, now if I can only find what I’m looking for.  Any suggestions?

To the Pointe

Both Ballet Companion and The Rookie have asked me at some time if I had ever danced “on tippy toes” (her term, not mine) or ever would. I of course said no, telling them that’s reserved for the ladies and guys in drag. For some reason that question stuck in my head like an errant lawn dart. I’ve since done some snooping around on the internets only to find that it’s not just for the ladies or guys in drag.

My interest was and still is peeked, so much so that I half jokingly asked our teacher after class last night about adult students taking pointe or as Adult Beginner calls it, “Ballerina School”. She assumed I was asking for Ballet Companion who has also expressed interest in learning pointe. I clarified my question and asked if it would be cool if I were to take lessons en point too. Much to my surprize she said it was ok with her, and it wouldn’t be the first time for her to have a male student learn pointe.

Woah, whaaat… really? I was momentarily taken aback, thinking she might be joking too. Nope, 100% fo’ realz!

Have I really learned enough where this could even possibly be an option? I guess things are starting to pay off. That said I’d be the first to admit, I’m not as good as I think I am, and I have much to learn. I haven’t passed go and I haven’t seen that $20 yet.

I’ve got little idea what I’m getting myself into. I expect it to be the most difficult thing I’ve ever done in ballet by far and will probably mangel my feet in doing so. I’m so pumped to try, even if it’s just some barre work and strength training.

So, it looks like Saturday is pointe shoe day, I’ve got a list of shops that she recommended. Who knows what I’ll find, and I have a feeling I’ll be lucky to find anything at all. Ladies, you have it too easy, it seems that everything in ballet is made for you. Go figure.

If you have any advice or suggestions please leave a comment, thank you!!

Pointe Shoes and Stripper Poles

Someone tweeted about a guy in pointe shoes danceing with a stripper pole on America’s Got Talent. I thought they were full of crap, I was wrong, I just found the video proof this morning.  A complete WTF moment.

http://www.nbc.com/assets/video/widget/widget.html?vid=1341697

Not exactly my cup of tea, if you will. However it was more entertaining than Dance Moms.  Piers Morgan was right, “There is a reason there are no male pole dancing clubs in America.”  Some things just don’t go together.

What’s The Pointe?

The world is full of stupid people, and most are proud to show off just how stupid they are.  I get asked stupid questions all the time, for example I also race bikes, so I’m asked,  ”Will you be racing in the Tour de France?”

Really, le Tour? Only the biggest bike race in the world.  Do you think they let anybody in that puppy?  I’m lucky not to get lapped at the local cat 5 crit race let alone climbing the Col du Tourmalet (That’s French for a big ass mountain you ride your bike on). It’s gotten to the point where it’s just easier to lie and say yes. Yes, I’m in the Tour just look for me on tv, I’m the one in the yellow jersey.  And no, I don’t know Lance Armstrong and yes, I believe he doped, they all dope.

The other stupid question I get, well I hate to say it’s stupid, just misinformed I suppose. “Oh you do ballet, do you wear those shoes to dance up on your toes?”

Nope, and those are called pointe shoes professor. That domain is for the ladies, guys stick to the soft non pointy shoes.

Pointe shoes are just for the ladies, or so I thought.  I googled, “men en pointe” just to see what comes up.  Of course your forced to wade through all of the internet weirdos out there creeping everyone out. Also, steer clear of Chat Roulette, nothing but guys who want to show you their junk or worse.

Anyway, it’s way more common than I imagined. Thanks to the interwebs I found countless examples of men dancing en pointe, b.t.w. that translates from French as “dancing on your tippy toes while wearing uncomfortable shoes” (that semester of French in middle school is paying off). They look to be as comfortable as ski boots three sizes too small. Most use it as a training aid, they say it’s a great way to strengthen your feet and ankles, and to mangle your toes. Rarely ever will you  see men en point on stage, unless it’s something like the  Les Ballets Trockadero de Monte Carlo.   An all male company who dresses as both male and female dancers. It’s like the Harlem Globetrotters, they are gifted athletes but they are not meant to be taken seriously.

Pointe shoes are almost a sick joke. Congratulations you have been dancing for years perfecting your craft, here is a new pair of shoes, relearn everything while destroying your toes.

People willingly do this to their feet!

Would I ever try this you ask?  I don’t know, and what’s with all of the questions?  My right ankle is a train wreck, and would need to be significantly stronger to even contemplate such and endevour.

Anyway, I think I’m getting way ahead of myself here.  I suppose I should worry about improving my own technique in the much more conformable soft slippers before I could ever think about pointe. I almost tripped myself attempting a pirouette last night. Sorry for all the fancy French terms (I forget that many of you did not take French in middle school and barely pass as I did) a pirouette is a spiny thing designed to make me look stupid.

A side note, the word “slippers” bothers me, it makes me think of those ratty-ass shoes people wear around the house.  And why would you want the word slip in the name of your shoe, it’s the last thing you would want to do, you know, slip.

When I hear slippers, this is what I think of.

*Update

The more I think / dwell upon pointe the more I think I would love to try dancing en pointe.  I’d be happy just to do barre work en pointe.  However, my right ankle is a train wreck right now, it needs to get much stronger than it is right now.  It’s quite difficult to put my weight on it during demi-pointe or passe releve… for more than 20-30 seconds.  I’m working on it several times a day, that and improving my splits.