Derby Day 2013. Didn’t get it home quite as white…
(and by ‘quite as white’ I mean ‘even the dry cleaner judged me’…)
Guys, I have this friend – let’s call her Rach. Because that’s her name.
Everytime I see Rach the first thing she says to me, every time, without fail is ‘oh hey Em. How are you?’ Because we’re friends, and you know, that’s how friends greet each other in civilised society, amiright? But the second thing? ‘Have you found any dresses for me for Spring Racing Carnival yeeeettttt?’
And I usually prattle off a few designer names and then spend half an hour compulsively stalking Instagram to show her exactly how Lauren Phillips/Kate Waterhouse/Lindy Klim pull off Racing Chic and we have a few wines and a bit of a gossip about general life things/reality TV/people we think are complete muppets in our respective offices and bid fond farewells and head home.
Until we meet again in a week or two and repeat.
But guys. GUISE. I got it figured. REVELATION TIME. We’re not Lauren/Kate/Lindy. (Yeah, uh, duh – you’ve looked in a mirror lately right? …mutters the rest of Australia.) We’re, uh, vertically challenged. Because while those fillies can rock whatever the heck their stylists throw at their perfectly spray tanned skin, some of us need to be a little more strategic. For example, have you ever tried to rock a 7/8th’s dress with shorter-than-model legs?? #disaster
And a full skirt when you’ve got short-ish pins? Oh dear lord. The horror.
So this series of posts is for Rach. Because we’re both going to be faking it til we make it as supermodels ’round Flemington this November, and if history has taught me anything, it’s that there aint nothing that an above the knee, structured dress with a killer heel can’t fix.
Just because it’s black and white doth not mean dear Derby Day is boring. Oh sweet champagne flutes, no! Think structured, think prints, think bold geometric shapes, think mesh and full skirts. Just remember that when thou is rocking a frock ‘above the knee’, one shalt keep thy ladies at bay. (That’s fancy pants lady speak for ‘keep your boobs hidden if you’re showing off the legs, orright? It’s a race track, not a night club, ladies’.)
And if I can leave you with one final thought (that’s more of an FYI, this is my blog, I’ll do whatever the crap I like…), it’s to please remember that the Spring Racing Carnival is a marathon, not a sprint. Nothing says ‘I only scored a ticket for the one day’ like going all out on Derby Day, because how will you become more and more spectacular with each marquee pap photo if you’ve blown all your fashion bikkies on the first day, eh?