A fascinator is a headpiece, a style of millinery. The word originally referred to a fine, lacy head covering akin to a shawl and made from wool or lace, but mostly feathers. Today, A fascinator may be worn instead of a hat on occasions where hats were traditionally worn—such as weddings—or as an evening accessory, when it may be called a cocktail hat. It is generally worn with fairly formal attire.
I've pasted the definition on here because i honestly did not know that these hats were called Fascinators. What a fucking fabulous word for a hat. As u can see from the pics above the outfits were all about fascinators. I'm sure you can also see that it was quite a party, so today i'm hangin like a mutha. I can't even think straight enough to do a proper write up, besides i'm rushing off to Cold Turkey to get my Sunday drink on. I'll come back later when i'm more relaxed to do a brief write-up. For now i'm out, enjoy the pics. And if u doin Cold Turkey this evening, i'll see you there. Oh by the way the official dress code for the races was Blue and White.
UPDATE, LATER THAT EVENING:
I had an absolutely fucking amazing time at the Queen's Plate. I mean who wouldn't? You'd have to be to be quite the sour Miss to spend all day amongst drinking eating dressed up folk, watching performances by great artists such as Tumi & The Volume and Spoek Mathambo only to get home and bitch about the day. Obviously it's not quite the usual skattie type post, but then again i'm not very loyal to boxes. I was invited to the event by the organizers along with other photographers to be part of a competition, the idea behind the competition was to invite a few photographers to take pics of the event, we will then submit a few pics each which we feel best capture the essence of the event and the judges will make their decision. I won't bullshit you skat, i was flattered and yet intimidated by the rest of the photographers as they were all pros and i am an amateur who is only planning to study photography this year. So i spent most of the day running around with my rather basic DSLR with it's basic kit lens snapping away. Fortunately i met a wonderful creature named Natacha who not only let me use her R10 000 lens for the day but also said i could keep it and return it to her next week. No seriously skat, and we'd just met an hour earlier. She definitely restored my faith in the human ability to trust. She simply said that she was a good judge of character and she was pretty sure i'd call her to return it. Over and above that she also said i could come and shadow her so i can learn more about photography. That's super exciting for me because i've recently resigned from my job as a fashion buyer which is all i've done for the last seven years so that i can pursue my long time dream of studying photography, so i can become a pro one day. Wish me luck skat, total career changes in one's 30s are rather risky if not straight up stupid.
The other interesting part to the day was all about the politics of access. A subject close to my heart. I do enjoy pushing myself into places where i am not allowed. Unfortunately my invitation as a photographer did not come with access to all the private tents, which were mainly the Caprice tent, The Reserve club tent and The Stud Club tent. Whilst Cafe Caprice in Camps Bay is not a spot i normally frequent, i couldn't resist checking it out at the event. It wasn't really my vibe but the crowd seemed to be having a ball. The Reserve however was a different case, i actually really liked it, i guess it also helped that they were ridiculously welcoming with no drama. I've been to their club in town before and whilst i've always found the OTT spending habits of their clientele disturbing - I have it on good authority that they're the type who drop 70k a night on French Champagne without thinking twice-, I've always found them chilled and kinda kind, and i was not disappointed. And i must also say that whilst i'm terrible at recognizing famous faces i did notice that Gavin Rajah and his crew had a table at their tent. I also spotted Janez there, with his top on for a change. Sometimes i wonder if it's part of his Top Billing contract that he must take his top off as many times as possible during an episode. The last private tent i checked out was the Stud Club tent. A friend told me that it was the organizers tent, basically it is the tent a lot of people wanna get into. As we all know i'm not a journalist so please take it all with a pinch of salt. I'm far more likely to write a bit of hearsay than i am to write well researched facts. However, one thing i can state for sure is that it was the tent where Prince Harry's ex Chelsy Davy was hangin out with the Prince's cousin Lady Kitty Spencer. Anyway i had a great time and i indulged in my favorite pseudo-anthropological sport; watching beautiful young things play the socialite game. I really do love that skattie, social codes fascinate me to no end. To be fair though, i'm the one with a blog that survives on content from social events, so how hectic are my social ambitions? Anyway, towards the end of the evening after working my way around, getting multiple wristbands to ensure that i had all round access. I ran into a guy that had yet another wristband that i hadn't seen before. Apparently it would grant access to yet another exclusive tent, for the horse trainer's after party. And he is a sales manager for the horse owners and he would try to get me in. At that stage skat i thought fuckit, I'd had a great day, i thoroughly enjoyed the event and my legs were way too exhausted for any more social climbing. My day was done and i drove back into the city to join my friends and wash down the champagne with a couple of Black Label quarts.
