Ballerina Francesca Hayward talks taste
My personal style signifier is black. If I wear anything but black off-stage, it’s breaking news. My everyday signature is a pair of black rubber recovery slides from Hoka. My physio says my feet need to be supported at all times, so I keep a pair next to my bed so I can roll out and slip them straight on. My bare feet literally never touch the floor.
The last thing I bought and loved was a black Alaïa bag. I went into the store on New Bond Street to buy it; I love that moment when you whisper, “I’ll take it.” I have a big Bottega holdall that is my chuck-everything-in-it bag, but spacious evening bags that aren’t too smart are harder to find.
The place that means a lot to me is Tokyo. I went for the first time when I was 18 with the Royal Ballet on tour; I felt like I was on another planet. We go back to perform every few years, and as life changes every two to three years it’s become a place where I reflect. I have all these photos of me outside stage doors given to me by fans. Whenever I flick through, I think, “Oh, that’s when I’d just broken up with this person,” or “That’s when I’d just fallen in love with that person.” Plus, it’s always the end of the season, so we have a lot of fun and go to karaoke.
And the best souvenir I’ve brought home is a strappy Tom Ford Gucci top from Iregular in Paris. They’d just put it on the hanger; it was fate that it was there waiting for me. I had just enough time to go before my Eurostar after the Chanel couture show in June.
My favourite festive tradition is celebrating on Christmas Eve with my family. It kicks off with carols from King’s College, Cambridge, on the radio – once the first verse of “Once in Royal David’s City” is sung, Christmas has begun for me. The 24th is bigger than Christmas Day for us. Father Christmas brings all the stocking presents on time at 5pm and we eat dinner together, a casserole or something. Then we get to do it all over again on the 25th, with lunch.
The beauty staples I couldn’t live without are magnesium tablets and my Chanel Coco Mademoiselle body cream. I don’t like perfume, or when you go somewhere and can smell the person who was there before. Scent should be intimate.
My style icon is my grandmother Diana, who taught me that you can pair anything with jeans and make it look good. Also, Anastasia from the 1997 film. There’s a scene where she wears this dark-blue sparkly dress and a crown; I remember thinking she looked breathtaking. At some point in my life, I need to recreate it.
The best costumes I’ve worn on stage are actually wigs. The tutus and crowns are amazing, but I’ve loved being platinum blonde and covered in glitter as the Sugar Plum Fairy – it’s not a colour I would ever go for in real life – and I got to wear a really long red wig with my hair down for Different Drummer. It made me feel like someone else, and I thought about dyeing my hair red for a bit.
The things I’ll never part with are handwritten cards. Especially from my grandparents, who brought me up. They come to all my performances and buy me flowers, which don’t last, but they write me a card for every one. They put the date and production on every one, so each is like a record. I’ve never thrown one away. I’ll need a trunk to keep them in soon.
And the best gift I’ve received recently is a pack of Tim Tams from Australia. I discovered them when I was dancing there. My ballet coach was just over there and brought some mint chocolate ones back for me. Every day I look forward to having a Tim Tam with my night-time tea.
The last music I downloaded was Tchaikovsky’s Symphony No 6, Pathétique. Obviously, we have a lot of Tchaikovsky in the repertoire – all the classics like The Nutcracker and Sleeping Beauty – but I discovered this one through two friends when I was in Paris. They asked me if I’d heard the last piece of music Tchaikovsky wrote before he died. I couldn’t believe it, but I hadn’t. We put it on in the hotel and all fell asleep.
My favourite ballet is Romeo and Juliet. To dance it, you have to put yourself into the mind of a teenage girl feeling the power of love for the first time. It’s also quite a special one for me as it was the first ballet I danced with my now-fiancé, Cesar Corrales. He was new to the company and our director said, “Oh, why don’t you dance with the new guy?” Everyone said there was chemistry. And now we’re engaged.
The things I couldn’t do without are my ballet shoes, obviously – mine are made by Bob Martin for Bloch – and Murad retinol eye cream. It’s a miracle in the morning, especially after a late show where I don’t have much sleep and can wake up looking hungover, even when I’m not. Murad Retinol Youth Renewal Eye Serum, £89
I have a collection of vintage magazines. I remember buying specific editions of Vogue when I was younger, including one with a Mario Testino editorial of ballet dancers. Now I look for the iconic editions – Peter Lindbergh shooting ’90s supermodels, for example. I keep them in my wardrobe and sometimes on Sundays I’ll get one out and have a flick.
A way to make me laugh is any episode of Monty Python. There are so many modern US comedies that I don’t find funny. I’m left wondering why everyone else thinks they’re hysterical. But show me “The Ministry of Silly Walks” and I’m dying.
In my fridge you’ll always find almond butter, eggs, chilli jam and good sourdough bread. I can’t do a pre-packed loaf. They’re full of stuff that isn’t nutritional. I often put blackberries and raspberries on top of the almond butter, with pumpkin seeds. It looks really pretty.
The best way to spend £20 is on a taxi. I hate walking. I have no shame about it. I’m also very proud of the fact I carry cash, so cabbies love me. I do all my banking in person in the branch as well. I’m old-fashioned. I’d rather have a pen and notebook than a smartphone.
Do I believe in life after death? I do. I’m scientific but also spiritual, so I think that makes me rational. I see a palm reader, Alexa, every year, and once encountered a ghost in an old Sussex pub. It was knocking on the wardrobe. I wasn’t scared: I actually felt quite peaceful.
This holiday season, I will be working. We do a matinee on the 24th, and there’s always an electricity in the audience, especially if it’s something like The Nutcracker, with the giant tree growing out of the stage. Then I rush back home for my own celebrations: thankfully we get Christmas Day off.
My favourite piece of jewellery is a pair of Jessica McCormack diamond earrings. They were a gift from my stylist friend, Annabel Davidson, and I wear them to rehearsal every day to brighten up my face. I’ve even worn them in the sea in Greece.
The best party I’ve ever been to was about 10 years ago in London: The Rolling Stones had a party after a show. We were waiting for them to turn up, but I’d drunk so much champagne that by the time they arrived, I didn’t even see them.
My favourite building has to be the Royal Opera House, my second home. When I’m tired and grumpy, I remember that Margot Fonteyn danced there. It’s quite rare you get to be so close to the origins of your passion. Lots of theatres are very dark, but the gold lamps around the auditorium give me something to focus my eyes on in a pirouette, so I don’t get dizzy.
The last item of clothing I added to my wardrobe was a pair of open-toed black mules from Paris Texas. Ordinarily I’m a flats girl – heels make my calves tight – but as I’m only 5ft 2in, I need the extra height so people can hear me talking.
My wellbeing guru is Kim Mendez at Pineapple Dance Studios. She’s a massage therapist and also an actor with The Royal Ballet, so she really understands what my body goes through. I also swear by Rupert French, my reflexologist. He was one of the first people to help me understand the pain in my feet, and gives such a deep soft-tissue massage. He has a treatment called Free Your Feet. Maybe it’s inspired by me.
The works of art that changed everything for me were the icons I saw in Florence and Lake Garda. When I was younger, on holiday with my grandparents, there’d be a compromise that we’d spend the mornings looking at churches and art, and afternoons by the pool. I always remember the amazing colours, like lapis lazuli – a very special blue, which is still my favourite colour. Obviously not to wear. But I like to look at it.
And on my Christmas list this year is a chair for my bedroom, I’m aiming to use it for five to 10 minutes of meditation in the morning but it will probably end up being used for clothes.
The one artist whose work I would collect if I could is Nan Goldin. Her photographs aren’t pretty compositions: they’re raw life moments. Some of them can make you feel uncomfortable, as if you’re spying on someone. They’re gritty and real.
An indulgence I would never forgo is breakfast. Especially a hotel breakfast. I order everything on the menu because it makes me sad to miss out. I would get the Eurostar to Paris just for the croissants and jam from Le Bristol Hotel. I have to have carbs every morning otherwise I get a bit faint.
I’ve recently rediscovered an Olympus camera I had in the ’90s. I actually found it outside someone’s house with a sign that said “Take me”; it was the exact same one I owned when I was a kid. I took it to the camera shop for a once-over and it still worked. Everyone rolls their eyes when I get it out. I’m like, “Here we go, picture time!”
No celebration is complete without champagne. It’s my go-to beverage, but I’m still figuring out which brand is my favourite. It’s so easy to drink and very refreshing, and I feel happy and chatty with it, so that’s perfect. I keep some in the fridge in my dressing room too. Whenever it’s my last show of the season, I crack it open as soon as my costume is off.
The best gift I’ve ever given was to Alexander Campbell, my dance partner of 10 years, who retired recently. An Austrian photographer came to one of our last rehearsals and captured our hands, wrists and fingers – details that are really special. Sometimes buying a material gift from a shop doesn’t feel right. I often gift disposable cameras to friends. It’s nice to have printed momentoes.
In another life, I would have been an actor in theatre productions. Ballet is like acting in a way, just without words. You have to be so expressive with your body. I can sing in tune, but I haven’t got a powerful voice so I’d prefer a drama to a musical. I also trained as a violinist and could have gone to music school, but learning the scales and practising was always a chore.
On my Instagram “For You” page you’ll find funny cat and ballet videos and, to be honest, really soppy things that I end up sending to my boyfriend. The cat videos are especially relaxing.
The best book I’ve read recently is Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, and Tomorrow by Gabrielle Zefin. I don’t know anything about video games, but the words really flowed, and I loved the characters. I was heartbroken to finish it because I felt like I was going to miss them. It was like saying goodbye to friends.
My favourite room in my house is the bathroom. I recently moved apartments to a bigger place and having a bathtub is a new thing for me – I feel very grown-up. I like the ritual of running the water with magnesium salts and lighting a candle; it’s my alone time. But I get quite fidgety, so I can’t stay there very long.
My favourite app is Deliveroo. I buy everything on there, from Whole Foods to Harvest Grocery Store. It sounds dramatic, but I don’t have the energy to go food shopping after dancing. My last order was olive oil, yoghurt and bread. I even buy my vitamins there
Some of my best ideas come when I’m lying on a beach. I just lie down and listen to people. It’s ingrained in dancers to always be improving yourself. But there’s something very cathartic about being still, knowing it’s not laziness and just giving myself permission to relax.
The best bit of advice I ever received was, “The only person who’s going to look after you is you.” Over the years, I’ve got better at taking care of myself.
Francesca Hayward performs in Cinderella on 7 and 17 December, rbo.org.uk
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