Woke up yesterday to grey and gloomy skies, with occasional drizzle and a chilly breeze. More like Britishland than like Texas this spring, so far.
I love it. The Texas spring, that is, because the longer it stays like this (it won’t, according to the forecast) the longer that the temperatures of Texas Broil a.k.a. summer are kept at bay.
Britishland spring, on the other hand, is nothing like this — more like Texas winter, in fact — as witnessed by yesterday’s start of the racing season at Cheltenham, where the ladies’ clothing was more shall we say sensible:
(note to my Murkin Readers: scarlet trousers for men are generally an infallible sign of the upper classes Over There)
What’s definitely not a mark of the upper classes would be outfits such as these:
Ugh… quick, back to the totties:
Quite disappointing, really; but Cheltenham usually is, being more of a classy event than the others.
Never mind… soon it will be the turn of the Grand National at Aintree. Can’t wait.