The GeeGees with the McGees
1 November 2004, 17:13
The Frock…
Warning: First paragraph = Serious Chick zone. Lads read at own risk of boredom.
I love getting all frocked up. And Spring Racing Carnival is the perfect time to do it…
Saturday morning, Derby Day morning, dawned with promise. I’d already decided on the outfit – hot pink 40’s inspired dress by Very Very, baby pink strappies, and hat, moi’s own creation c/- Lincraft – pink straw hat with lime and pink retro scarf and bright pink flower.
Frock you!
I’d seen a lot of hats with adornments (feathers, flowers, branches etc.) sticking up and out, but not many flowing down, hence my clumsy fore into millinery. It kills me just how expensive a straw hat with a couple of straw rosettes are, and for something I’ll probably only wear once, maybe twice. So go the Lincraft. It’s your one stop shop.
I’ve never been a hat person. There’s something about hat hair that is so unbecoming, I just can’t do it. But this hat was fucking tops – so lovely to wear. My frock was gorgeous – although Husband insisted it was too “booby”. Pah!!! It’s obviously been a long time since he’s been to the races…
I was grateful to be wearing a hat once I got to the racetrack…
Flemington RaceTrack…
Sun. Lots. Of. Sun. Which is great, if you don’t plonk down on the grass with a couple of bottles of champagne in hand and drink them in quick succession. Which is exactly what I did. We had the presence of mind to bring sunscreen which stopped us from getting cooked, so things could have been worse. Lovely young fillies were passed out on their picnic blankets, lobster-red and seedy. And the ladies weren’t looking so good either.
Husband considers entering the Fashions on the Field
People. Lots. Of. People. 115,000 of them to be exact, with 15 tonnes of rubbish collected this morning. We had a pole possie at the 2800 metre mark, in between the track and the bookies, so once we finally found our party, I wasn’t about to move.
I’ll give you the hot tip…
The Derby was at 3.00pm and I usually only have a flutter on the main race, not being a punter, meself. But at 2.30 my girlfriends popped off to the bookies for the race before, so I tagged along.
I’d forgotten how the whole betting thing worked, but just as I got to the top of the queue, the inner-punter was squeezed out of me, spouting out some $5 each-way garbage on a couple of horses. I got a couple of tickets, so I figured I must have said something right.
One of the geegees , Miss Potential, had long odds (21-1) and Infinite Grace, had OK odds (8-1). I have no idea about horses, so bet on the ones that had perrty names.
I sat back down and promptly forgot about the race until the horses were approaching 2800 metres. We were next to the TV screen and I saw that my horses were coming first and third. Wow. First and third. As they passed us they were still first and third. The race ended and my horses came first and third (photo-finish, mind). Wow, first and third, which would mean I just won – oooooooh! $150 bucks! Thanks for coming. I jumped around like a total girl – my long-shot had just won and I a.m p.u.n.t.e.r e.x.t.r.a.o.r.d.i.n.a.i.r.e.
Just ask me.
Bottomless champers… literally
Then all my friends cornered me for the hot tip for the Derby. And wanted to rub themselves on me for good luck, which I didn’t mind so much. I also placed on the Derby, so got a bit of cash back on that, too.
Husband returned after an hour of waiting for champagne and hot dogs and was husband pleased with wife. Oh yes, he was. “Here honey! I got money!!!”
Just don’t ask me for the hot tip, ‘cos I have no frikkin’ idea.
The Aftermath…
Around 5ish people started to make moves, and suddenly I had to pee. R.e.a.l b.a.d. Let’s just say I got lost, I was drunk, I nearly wet my pants and I couldn’t find Husband, Tom or Diane (who had come down from Canberra for the races, bless ‘em).
So I caught the train back alone. Which wouldn’t have been so bad, except I fell asleep on the train and missed my stop. Finally stumbled home around 7, passed out for what I thought was going to be 30 minutes, and woke up at 10.30pm. With hell making a home out of my head.
But I just remembered the cyclist that passed me as I staggered home – wad of cash in my bag, hat and dress slightly dishevelled and still three sheets to the wind:
“So, did you back a winner?”
Indeed I did.
More GeeGees with the McGees party-fun here
Permanent Link | - wow! horse racing in new york is definitely not as sophisticated as all that. all i ever see are the smokey, nasty, OTB (off-track betting) halls that pepper the city with their patrons all dolled up in track suits and three-day old shadows.. and dude, i'm totally jealous of your summer! ah, if only i could skip hemispheres to miss the winter.
— gleek Nov 2, 02:49 PM #
