It's that time of year again. The sun is starting to set a little later, the birds are getting up a bit earlier (5am here this morning which is excessive in March) and the royal calendar heads into annual events territory. Yes, mid March means Cheltenham and, once more, these days at the racing are proving, well, slightly dowdy.
Sorry, I know we're all meritocrats now and it's all about what's inside rather than what has hopped out of the wardrobe. But while this festival of racing might be tops for the horses, it's never been top of my list for clothes.
It's not that I'm a royal fashion maven. Truth be told, I couldn't care less where someone with a title buys their clothes. I'll never be able to afford it, I don't want to look like them and a lot of it is fine for cutting ribbons but not exactly must have couture. Sorry, Again. No, I'm not foaming at the mouth for fantastic fashion, I just want a bit more glitz. And yes, I get that the dress code was recycle. But just because you've worn something before, doesn't mean it has to be dull.
Can we start with the queen (I guess we should, I called this blog Queens of England though in the reboot I have promised myself not to get hung up on making everything I write match the title). HM is great, doing a stirling job, keeping the flag flying, actually really like her. But every year she arrives at the festival looking like she's popping to the shops or, at best, out for a boozy lunch with the girls. Which I guess she is to an extent. But that's not the point of royals at the races. We expect utter glam.
This is part of the royal pact. We need more Queen Mum, tbh. She's the last person I can find a photo of actually boarding a plane in a ballgown and tiara. This is what we come for. The high point of the fashion stakes at Cheltenham this year, Style Wednesday, saw Queen Camilla in a perfectly acceptable but not sensational, long green coat and one of those fur trimmed hats she's been wearing since the 1990s.
We all know Princess Anne's clothes are older than that so no expectations. She went beige this year. All very neat and tidy but where are the feathers? Princess Eugenie gave us an all white ensemble that, again, was perfect for a trot down Kensington High Street for tapas and cocktails but nowhere near the regal rundown that we all secretly crave.
In the end, it was the one member of the party with no title who brought home the sauce. Zara Tindall went for a pinstripe trouser suit with mismatched hat which was very Diana at her peak and gave plenty of glamour. She also let her husband indulge in the main male style fantasy of the 2020s and get dressed as if he's in Peaky Blinders, complete with cap.
Your blog is a beacon of clarity and conciseness in the online space.
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