First things first, wow – I was not expecting such a massive response to the previous Secret Squirrel Post.
I have received a dozen comments saying that their original comments did not get approved but I can assure you that they were all approved yet blogger appears to have had a slight melt down and if you don’t press ‘load more’ a billion times then you don’t get to see them all.
I tried to reply to them all but my replies are not coming up, something has gone wrong in the info tech land I think.
Anyway, Friday night I headed to Myer to try and find an outfit for Stakes Day on Saturday as I felt like a bit of a blob in all my current outfits. It was basically a fruitless effort.
I bought a raspberry pink dress from Anthea Crawford and as I swiped my credit card I regretted it instantly, after all – why would I buy a $300 dress when I have one the exact same colour at home and I don't even love it.
I still bought it as was slightly too embarrassed to cancel the transaction and returned it on Sunday.
The lady did everything but sniff the arm pits as she must have thought I was shady but come on, it was still in the tissue paper.
She grilled me over why I didn’t want it too. All I could say was “I felt like a giant raspberry”.
I ended up wearing this Kookai dress, worn back to front so that I did not have cleavage on display, paired with my white (well, was once white) Zara jacket and a headband that I wore to Stakes Day last year (as seen in this post) with an Alannah Hill brooch stuck on it to match the pink slightly.
I was up at 7am to get ready as being part of the Social Club Committee meant that I had duties to perform other than turning up and binge eating.
I curled my hair and marvelled at the fake tan job provided by The Husband the night before, and headed out to pick up the catering only to be met by moisture in the air and instant frizz.
Let me tell you, the smell of cabana in my car was enough to send any pregnant lady over the edge. I wanted to eat it so bad, I just couldn't.
I had zero intentions of taking off my Zara jacket as I thought it ‘made’ my outfit and plus, the weather was meant to be a cool 20 degrees with showers. Of course I am in Melbourne and we know that Mike Larkin is not to be trusted. I actually came home with a sun burn.
Who would have thought?
We had a great day but going to the races is not the same when you are pregnant, uncomfortable and sober.
I had to turn into Kitty’s good conscious and demand that she did not drink any more champagne until she had some water.
I wore sandals, because of course I am not silly, so at least my feet didn't hurt. Success!
Where else would I be other than one of the many snack tables?
I actually did take photos of the catering but it’s on my real camera and I don’t have the energy to bend over and plug it in. Just imagine sandwiches, tarts, chicken, brownies and the like.
The best part was driving in and parking in the members car park so I could leave whenever I wanted, which happened to be at 4PM after collecting my $120 of winnings.
Well, The Husbands winnings seeing as I only placed the bets for him but still – what is his is mine, or so they tell me.
I am sometimes like Paul the Octopus when it comes to betting.
Anywho, good day had by all. I think my racing carnival days have come to an end though.