First rule of Ladies’ Day … Do not assume it is for ladies only.
When my mum got me a ticket to Ladies’ Day as a Christmas present, I was excited. I’ve never been to anything so glamorous (well … apart from a garden party at Buckingham Palace, but that’s neither here nor there). I had my dress planned from the very start; ironically, it was the exact outfit I wore while being an Ascot extra at ‘Ladies’ Day’ the play in Loughborough last year.
And my goodness. I have never seen so many fancy hats and fascinators in one place (again, apart from Buckingham Palace). Some were quite modest, some were insane. Mum reckoned hers made her look like a satellite dish. I saw one that looked like a giant multi-coloured spider. In contrast, it seemed no dress code applied to the men – “you’re a man, wear whatever you damn well please” seemed to be their dress code. The overwhelming fashion trend for the men seemed to be trousers and loafers with NO SOCKS. *Shudder*. No man should ever – EVER – not wear socks unless a) he is in sandals / flip flops, b) wearing trainers, or c) is naked. This whole trousers-and-loafers thing makes a man look like the next entrant to go on ‘Love Island’ … And indeed, we saw one man, dressed all in white, blonde, cocky looking with TASSELLED LOAFERS and NO SOCKS. We named him ‘Love Island’.
But enough of the men! Onto the horses!
I put my first bet EVER on a horse called Blind Faith with the notion that, “Jesus must be behind it”. It didn’t win. But my next horse, Easy Tiger, won me £6! That’s right – SIX WHOLE POUNDS! Some man looked over my shoulder as I was waiting to collect my winnings from Peter O’Toole (the name of the betting agent that we also decided was the name of the old guy handling the cash. He looked like a Peter) and said, “Aww, six pounds. Spend it wisely. Look what I’ve got,” and proceeded to show me his winning ticket for either £3000 or £300, I didn’t see it that well. What an absolute knob.
Another utter cockwomble asked me and my lovely friend Geri to take a photo of him and his mates. They proceeded to pout and do all sorts of stupid things for the camera so I thought I’d go along with it. When I said, “Okay, smile … Now do something sexy …” Original Cockwomble jeered, “Come with my to the bathrooms, darling.” What lovely specimens they were.
The hot weather made the dsy even better, despite the intense sunburn I received, and we all eventually left around 5pm after drinking quote a lot of Pimms. I bloody love Pimms. It meant we missed All Saints on the stage (all four of them!) and the thrilling promise of a performance from Mark Wright, that one off ‘TOWIE’. It was agreed between us that we were okay with missing that, no one was too cut up about it. I’m not a fan of horse racing really, I don’t see the point and from an animal cruelty point of view I don’t like it. But for one day only I went along with it. Geri and I also ended up in the paddock area where we nearly accidentally bid £4,000 on a horse. They were very handsome animals.
So Pimms, animals, ridiculous outfits and no Mark Wright. It was a quite a jolly good day.