We are all familiar with Train Smash Women Central (i.e. Liverpool’s racetrack for the Grand National — just search this site for “Aintree”), so it comes with some relief (mixed with regret) that Royal Ascot seems to have been wonderfully devoid of such creatures this year. Some examples:
Here’s the always-lovely Charlotte Hawkins:
…although of course, while exquisitely dressed, she had That Thing on her head — and there were likewise more than a few examples of regrettable millinery:
Which leads me to the rather cruel conclusion that the only upside to the Covid face-diaper is that it spares us from the sight of British Teeth.
Oh, and while looking admittedly dapper, comedian / musician Bill Bailey still holds the title of “He Who Is More In Need Of A Haircut Than Any White Man In The Entire World”.
Go there and see for yourself.
The UK, like us, have a long (“Bank Holiday”) weekend now, whereupon the Brits, like us, do a spot of carousing.
When that occurs Over There, can Train Smash Women be far behind?
Ladies and Gentlemen, and those who aren’t Quite Sure, please welcome the latest addition to the ranks of Train Smash Women: Rupert Murdoch’s granddaughter!
Now read the full catastrophe… and she’s only 21.
As Britons finally begin to slip the surly bonds of lockdown and once again venture into the pleasures of public intoxication, I ask myself: can Train Smashdom once again rear its wonderful… errr, head?
Apparently so. And I would be remiss if I didn’t show at least a few of them.
What I like almost as much is that Stout Bulldogs were not going to let a little thing like icy temperatures or freezing rain prevent them from taking the grandchildren out for some fish ‘n chips:
Bravo, all of you. Sadly, the restrictions were eased too late for us to enjoy the Train Smash Grand Prix — a.k.a. the Grand National at Aintree:
…but there’s always next year.
Ahhhhh, when it’s a Bank Holiday (U.S. “long”) weekend, can the Train Smash Women be far behind?
Of course not: they’re quite up front [sic] :
And, as usual, all over the place:
As we used to say (back when one could say such things): “Take her ‘ome, Jimmy; she’s ready.”
Follow the link: there are approximately half a dozen regrettable decisions in every pic.
Ordinarily at this time of year, we would be regaling ourselves with our annual Train Smash Women Extravaganza (i.e. Ladies Day at the Grand National at Aintree, Liverpool).
Unfortunately, this year’s event has been canceled because of the Chink Flu, so in desperation, the newspapers have resorted to measures such as this:
Despite cancelling the annual Grand National races due to the ongoing public health risk surrounding coronavirus, organisers of the event are adamant on enabling the races to still make their mark. They’re encouraging virtual racegoers to don their Sunday best and submit pictures of their outfits for consideration in its best-dressed awards.
Until now, only racegoers with tickets for the Aintree event have been able to enter the competition. But this year anyone is eligible to enter, simply by submitting a photograph of themselves in their outfit via the Ladies’ Day Facebook event page here. [link omitted]
This isn’t going to work, for obvious reasons. The fun part about Aintree is not the outfits; whenever the papers talk about “fashion stakes” and such, they’re always careful to picture the women as they arrive at the event, e.g.:
However, as any fule kno, the real entertainment only starts after the racecourse bars have been open for a couple hours, whereupon those carefully-groomed ladies turn quickly into Train Smash Women:
If all we’re going to get this year is fashion pics, then… pass, even though some of the outfits can be ummmm interesting:
But if the girls get into the spirit of the thing this year and get shitfaced before taking selfies in their homes, we’re in for a treat. If they’re like the above in public, imagine the scenario in private.
I’ll monitor the situation (because somebody has to), but I suspect that the papers won’t publish any good ones.