Featured Fashion Blog
The Royal Ascot, ladies and gentlemen, forget the sporting event of the season, it's sartorial sensationalism arguably elevates its people watching status to red alert def con threat down, it's MAJOR! MAJOR! It's so good it could even be better than fashion week and I wasn't even there on ladies day. Thanks to my dear old friend Spencer, we were able to penetrate the glass domed multi-escalatored recesses of the Royal Enclosure, to show off our hats amongst the elite and stalk the Queen in her box.
The day started out with a major wardrobe function, however, as I discovered that my gorgeous new Berardi dress purchased just for the occasion had a defective zipper. Needless to say, I was not in the mood to flash her Majesty my love handles, something had to be done. So my friend Spencer, a true Renaissance man, sewed me back into my Berardi and the show went on. Just don't ask me what I had to do to get it off.
Dress disaster aside, the day, while not sun-kissed, the event was certainly champagne-drenched, and the end of the day saw 15 happy Londoners snoozing off Pimms and champagne on the train back to Waterloo, albeit with wallets a bit lightened (Diabolical let me down). Suffice it to say that next year, I want a bigger hat.
Arrival


Down on the Green







Her Majesty's Box






They're Off!

Left side: Royal Enclose, Right: Grand Stand. Once you go royal, you never go back back.


The entrance to the Queen's Box









Crossing the finish line

Winner's Circle


The Hats
What is Ascot if not the race of women everywhere across the UK to battle it out for the biggest, bestest and most outrageous millenry statement? While ladies day is by far and away the most fabulous, Saturday was certianly not lacking in significant headgear. Not least that of the hat designer du jour, Victoria Grant, who looked absolutely smashing in purple and gold ensemble. Good friend that she is, she provided toppers for all five of her friends! Here's a selection of some of the best I encountered.









Apres Ascot

Not particularly keen to fight the crowds on the train back to London, we stuck around the race track until the girls were so cold that the boys had to surrender their jackets, thus breaking dress code, and signalling that the time to make a move had come. Not to fear though, the pub across the street from the station had been transformed from mere lager-den to river-side outdoor festival, complete with 80s music, barbeque, and plenty of Pimms. Needless to say, some serious tipsy hat swapping took place.



