Absolutely smashing

Last Thursday was Ladies Day at Royal Ascot. That’s the day when women traditionally dress to the nines and carry the British custom of fantastic hats to extremes.

You’ll have got a taste for the millinery arts at the Royal Wedding in April. I think it must be in the unwritten British constitution that a wedding isn’t official unless every female attending wears a hat. But Ladies Day is when the chapeaux turn into confections.

Don’t believe me? Look here.

But click through all the way to picture 15, of Queen Elizabeth II, who always arrives in a carriage. Even her hat (which of course matches her outfit in color) is a bit whimsical. However, what I love is the, er, hand gesture of one of her footmen, which stands out on account of his white gloves.

Of course, in the UK that’s not an obscene gesture; the Brits need two fingers for what Americans get done with one. But still, kind of funny.

Alas, all was not sheer amusement this year. A drunken brawl broke out that sent bystanders scurrying. Kind of made it look like the NHL: there you are, in the midst of a fracas and someone starts a horse race.

I went to Royal Ascot in 2000—not Ladies Day; the tickets for that were just too expensive. But even so, pretty much every woman there was hatted (including me), some quite elaborately so. And, as with many events in Britain, a main focus was drinking. I’d say a considerable percentage (maybe a third) only wandered out to the race course for one or two of the races.

And on my way back to the train station, I passed at least one couple to whom one might well have said, “Get a room!” If you catch my drift. Dunno whether it was the heat, the alcohol or what, but you’d have thought we were in the midst of war and there might never be an opportunity to shag again.

Well—I hope the fight didn’t damage any of the hats. Those things cost the earth, and getting one of them squashed would really put a damper on the day.