"I know what you mean," Mindy said, pulling on her long-sleeved T-shirt. "I had the same problem until I lost ten pounds. Then I was fine." Mary got up and examined herself in the full-length mirror. "I probably could drop some of this fat around my middle," she observed.

    What fat? I thought. I couldn't see a smidge of fat anywhere on her. She didn't have two pounds to lose - forget about losing ten! "Losing the weight makes a big difference," Mindy told Mary. "You'll see." Personally, I didn't think Mindy jumped all that high even now. Which meant her weight loss theory didn't hold up. And losing weight wasn't the solution to Mary's problem, either. If she wanted to jump higher, she should simply practice jumping higher. That's what I would have told her. But she hadn't asked me, and I felt I would have been rude to butt into their conversation.

    Mary turned her back to the mirror and then craned her neck around to see herself. "I have a fat rear end, too," she muttered.

    She did not! "All that weighs you down," Mindy said as if she were an authority on the subject.

    I couldn't believe what I was hearing.

    Really, it's not that unusual, though. There's a look in ballet - dancers are thin, square-shouldered, and have a more-or-less oval face. I've heard that it started because the great choreographer George Ballanchine wanted his corps de ballet (all the dancers who aren't the stars) to look alike. Since his death, this has started to change. That's what people say, anyway. It seems to be true.

    A lot of girls go crazy worrying about what they'll look like once their bodies finish changing and developing. They might not wind up with the right kinds of bodies for ballet. That's rough when you consider that most dancers have been studying since they were four or so. All of a sudden they have to rethink their plans.