After a month of getting outfitted for Royal Ascot, my boyfriend, my mother and I headed out to Berkshire on Tuesday morning for the start of the famous five-day race meeting. I left home excited for my Face of Ascot experience at Royal Ascot.
But before we could get to the races, we had to make an important stop in Bagshot. My hat was ready at the milliner’s, and she wanted to do a fitting before letting me out of the shop with it.
As I stood in front of the mirror, she swept the beautiful crystal-studded, feather-spouting fuchsia orb onto my head and arranged my hair around the elastic band in one graceful motion.
Knowing I lacked any hat-donning talent, I kept it on when I left. I had to recline my seat in the car just to fit without smashing the hat against the roof, but I made it to Ascot Racecourse with everything intact.
As we pulled into car park 7, I was amazed to see how many people were already there setting up chairs, tables, and even candelabras for their tailgates. It was a far cry from the atmosphere during my photo shoot at Ascot Racecourse last month, when the whole place was empty.
Shiny silver cutlery and cloth napkins replaced the plastic utensils and themed napkins of the tailgates I was used to back home. This was Royal Ascot; everything was done in style.
And everything was done with a drink. Even at ten in the morning, people were out sunning themselves in cloth-covered chairs greeting the day with a gin and tonic.
Unlike my fellow racegoers, my day wasn’t to be spent idly sipping English drinks and watching horses. I had work to do, and a lot of it.
As soon as I arrived, I was whisked down to the Parade Ring for an interview with the BBC. They asked all about my year as the Face of Ascot, my outfit, and my advice for those seeking to be the next Face of Ascot.
As soon as the interview was over, I went to wait for another. As I waited, photographers from all over came to take pictures of me. Or really, my hat. It was a photographer magnet, and I enjoyed being the face beneath it.
Cameras ready, the next interview was with Ascot TV. They interviewed me alongside milliner Yvette Jelfs, whom I had met the last time I was at the racecourse.
We spent a few minutes chatting about the year, my ambassadorial duties, and modeling, then turned to the outfit as Yvette told the interviewer about my hat.
As soon as that was over, I was taken up to the seventh floor of the grandstand, where I climbed some stairs to the roof.
Only camera crews and the media are normally allowed up there, and they get the best view of the whole region. We could even see the City of London.
The most amazing thing about the view, though, wasn’t the City. It was something much closer. It was the jumbotron. Right across the racetrack was a giant screen with a way-larger-than-life photo of me on it! Completely surreal!
My purpose for being up there was for a radio interview with BBC Berkshire. The interview questions were similar to the ones from the television interviews, but this presenter asked about my general take on fashion this year versus last year.
After the radio interview I had a chance to relax a bit. My boyfriend and I went up to the Bessborough Executive Suite for a quick lunch.
We met a former England cricket player, a couple from Shropshire with a stately home that had gardens open to the public, and several horse owners with runners that day.
I couldn’t stay long. As soon as I finished my main course, I went downstairs for an interview with ITV.
When that was done, I jetted across the entire grandstand to the Pavilion Restaurant, where I met the Karen Millen representatives. They had a table for their four most loyal customers, and we did a photo shoot outside.
The Royal Procession began as the photo shoot ended, and I walked as fast as I could to try to find a space to see it.
Alas, just as I got a place to view Queen Elizabeth II, the last carriage was heading out of sight. It was okay, though. I would see her again later.
Shortly after the procession, the races began. My boyfriend and I stayed in the box for the first race, then ventured outside for the second. We went to the Parade Ring before the third race, and we weren’t the only ones.
Queen Elizabeth II came out and stood about twenty feet from us, and my boyfriend pointed out that Prince Charles and Camilla were standing about two feet from my right shoulder.
We ran into a friend of ours shortly thereafter, and I was unknowingly photographed with her for Marie Claire magazine.
Moving back to our box, we watched a few more races and enjoyed afternoon tea. After eating a few too many pistachio macarons, I got called down for one last photo shoot.
It was with Alistair Morrison, a photographer who’s doing an exhibition and book called “My Kingdom for a Horse: Royal Ascot 300 Years“.
Furiously wiping macaron from my teeth, I walked into Alistair’s studio and posed for a few photos. As I left, his assistant handed me a brochure of the exhibition.
It turns out his work has been featured in the National Portrait Gallery and he’s photographed the likes of Margaret Thatcher, Tom Cruise, and Elton John. Wow. I hope I got all that macaron wiped away.
I spent the rest of the afternoon enjoying the races and a sip or two of champagne. When the day was over, my boyfriend and I met up with my mother, who had spent the day with family friends.
After a quick amateur photo shoot of our own, we headed back to the car park to drive home.
My feet were killing me after a long day of running all over the racecourse, but I was still sad to be leaving Royal Ascot as I walked through row after row of tailgaters.
As we pulled out of the racecourse, I consoled myself with the thought that I get to go back on Saturday for one last day as the Face of Ascot. And then I booked myself a trip to Jamaica for next weekend. That helped ease the pain, too.
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