Good morning, September! (And all you readers, I hope you said your three rabbits this morning!)

        A lot of dance- and ballet-related content comes into my inbox, even when dance itself isn't the headline. I am not a tennis fan-- I'm not anti-tennis, just not a follower-- but recently two stories popped up that fell right in line with my interest in the parallels between dance, sports, and the people who are compelled to practice one or both.

        I was only vaguely aware that tennis players (I guess mostly the women?) are known to make statements through their fashions on the court as much as with their game. I definitely did not know that they walk onto the court (making an entrance!) with a certain "costume" on, then remove some outer part of it before revealing their game look. Naomi Osaka had an interview in the New York Times last week in which she was questioned about her outfit for this year's U.S. Open, which is more than slightly balletic.

    In the interview, Osaka describes how her costume (I can't help but call it that) reflects her aesthetics, her mentality, and why she and her designer chose a tulle skirt with ruffles and frills, in black and white, for this year's Open.

        "Stepping on the court is a transformation for me," she says. "In New York, the tennis court is more like a stage." Osaka talks about the trouble she's had building up her mental strength and confidence, and battling feelings of shakiness, all of which any human being can relate to. But a performer-- whether on a tennis court "stage" or a theatrical one-- has to take those demons by the horns and deal with them in front of thousands of people.

Osaka: "For me, an outfit can always help with something. It goes back to the
confidence point. You put on an outfit, it’s almost like a super-suit in some ways. Then you step on the court and you imagine yourself being able to do anything."

        My fellow dancers out there will all be thinking, "Oh yes... I know." A great costume can't make you dance excellently, but it can make you feel like you might just be able to. And if what you have to wear onstage makes you self-conscious, uncomfortable (literally, as in ill-fitting or scratchy or worse), you just can't fully override that sense that anything you dance is being diminished by what the audience really does notice first: your clothes.

        The best part, for me, in learning all this about Naomi Osaka was the reveal that she relies on Simone Elliott, a ballet coach, for her mental and movement training: "Before I met Simone, I thought ballerinas were just flexible. but then I realized they're incredibly strong."