Friday, 8 November 2013

Response 2: Coming Out For The Races

The hats, the dresses, the glamour surrounded by horse shit. THAT is my favourite part of the races. Odd I know but the juxtaposition is fascinating.

Thing is though, I’ve never felt glamorous at the races. I have never been bold enough to join in. I’ve always felt like I should be the plain Jane, not one to overdo a nice day out at the horse racing. I’m not sure my friends would accept glam Sam the pedigree beauty. Guess there is only one way to find out…


August 12th, race day! My hair straightened, my legs looking beautiful in a chic blue knee-length dress and the very best fascinator pinned onto my head, I am ready to meet everyone. I walk in the pub and everyone is shocked, all eyes on me. My best friend is the first one to speak; “Steve mate, what the hell are you wearing?”

1 comment:

  1. Haha, I didn’t see that end coming! But checking the title again, maybe I should have.

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