What I Wore to Ascot

My trusty Macbook, which is like 100 million years old, is finally on the way out and it no longer allows me to load photos (or to run two programs at the same time, play DVDs/CDs, or operate whilst being unplugged- basically me and the spinning rainbow wheel are BFF), so I have been waiting ALL DAMN DAY for David to get off our iMac so I could post this.  Sharing a computer is sooooo 1998 and really isn't conducive to a healthy marriage.  "Are you done yet?" has become the phrase of the day and it's making me crazy.

ONWARDS!  There have been some inquires from friends (and from my mother, HI MOM!) about the outfit I wore to Ascot last weekend.  I didn't get many pictures of myself at the event because I was too busy hogging the camera and taking pictures of horsies, so you'll have to settle for a post-Ascot outfit post. Because it is winter outside (again!) and because I cannot will myself to do that fashion blogger thing where I get all dressed up to distractedly pose in front of some greenery or in an abandoned alley (no disrespect, super-stylers!), these photos will have to do. 

Okay, my outfit!  After some v. laborious Google image research in which I learned that the average female Ascot-goer dresses a) like they're going to a wedding, b) like a grandmother, or c) like a tacky tart, I made the informed decision to stay as far away from these categories as humanly possible.  Initially I thought I'd buy a vintage pant-suit, but I had (notice the past tense) a Harrod's gift card that was calling my name and I ended up falling in love with this feathery, flapper-style Michael Kors (aka Queen Tangerine) number instead.

Next step: the hat! Fascinators were banned from the Royal Enclosure at Ascot this year, so I felt that my initial idea of a flapper-style headwrap would be a little too risky, not to mention a little too on-point... I didn't want to look like I was wearing a costume, after all!  In my head I was envisioning something a la Julie Andrews in Thoroughly Modern Milly and after many exhausting searches, I finally found a hat that was the right shape, but the wrong color.  It was on sale and I was tired, so I bought the hat and a can of black spray paint and came home.

The next day, I tore off the ugly bow and spray painted my blue hat black.  Later that evening (this is the night before Ascot, mind you...) I sewed decorative beads and feathers to the back for a little bit of a wow-factor.  Sewing things onto a straw hat is gory, people!  My fingers still haven't forgiven me.

Morning of, I put on my dress and painted all twenty of my nails in my favorite simple, clean polish, OPI's Bubble Bath (this was a total repeat from my wedding when I painted my nails 20 minutes before the ceremony... when will I learn?!).  I used MAC's Party Line on my lips, put on a pair of earrings I bought at a Renaissance festival forever ago (no joke!), tucked my tried and true Clare Vivier clutch- which I lovelovelove- under my arm and was out the door!  I didn't put on my shoes, which I got from an old co-worker who also has tiny feet, until we got to Ascot.  Usually I'm incredibly overzealous and immediately jam my freshly painted toes into my shoes and completely ef up the finish, but this time I practiced self-restraint and my toenail polish didn't chip until the next day. YAY!  I'm a lady!

Another fun fact: I couldn't find black feathers anywhere in my Hobbit Town, so I ended up having to buy a silly mask with black feathers on it and repurpose them onto my hat.  Craziness, I tell you!

So there you have it, my first ever What I Wore post. I can't wait to don my dress again!  Someone, give me an excuse!

 

And there I am again.  HI!  Men in the service are allowed to wear their uniforms into the Royal Enclosure in lieu of a morning suit.  Pretty snazzy, huh.  OKAYBYE!

@Ascot

You guys, this ain't no Kentucky Derby, it's Ascot.  Royal Ascot, in fact.  A genteel affair that's as British as Sunday roasts and high tea with the Queen (seen entering the Royal Enclosure in her carriage, second photo).  It doesn't get any more British than horse races and irony-free head-wear and I'm so pleased I was given the amazing opportunity to take part in this 301 year-old tradition. 

On Saturday morning, I put on my knee-length dress* and home-made hat,** took David's arm and we made our way to Ascot.  A very generous friend***  invited us to join his party in the Royal Enclosure which meant we were far removed from the majority of the fashion monstrosities that are just as much a part of the Ascot tradition as the horse racing.  Luckily, there are pictures! 

As you can imagine, I was ever so charmed by the clothes- especially the morning dress worn by the men (Swoon City!).  If an American man were ever required to wear tails and a top hat to a sporting event, they'd pick up their guns and start shouting about Civil Liberties faster than you can say George Washington, which is precisely why the majority of men at the Kentucky Derby look like they're in an Easter-egg hued parody of Boardwalk Empire, complete with unlit cigars, clip-on bow ties, and ill-fitting bowler hats.  Though there was much moaning about the restrictive dress code this year, the crowd at Ascot was [for the most part] wonderfully put together and very handsome, indeed!

And speaking of handsome, how 'bout those horses!  I've never been one of those horse-obsessed girls with notebooks full of pencil-drawn horsies, their manes blowing majestically in the wind as they gallop across a plane or along a steep embankment that falls into the sea.  That being said, I'm not immune to the power and grace of a beautifully built horse and I definitely fell a little bit in love with a temperamental grey stallion that lost me five quid and taught me to never again bet on a horse just because it's pretty.  And when they race, oh! how your heart does beat, especially if you have good money on a horse.  The horses are so strong, so fast, I imagine that being a jokey is the closest we'll ever get as humans to feeling we can fly. 

Horse racing has gotten into my blood and like a junkie I'm already searching for my next fix.  I've spent the last two days daydreaming about picnic lunches and steeplechases, of bigger hats, bolder dresses, and sunny racetracks, of horses nibbling apples from the palm of my hand.  Maybe, just maybe, I'm a horse girl after all.  A horse racing girl, I mean.

*It's by Michael Kors, for those who are interested. 
**I didn't make the hat, but I did spray-paint it black and hand-sew beads and feathers to the back, which warrants some props, I think.  
***Thanks, Mike!