“It’s like Ascot!” someone said, “but more bosomy and fabulous!”
No it isn’t, I replied. It’s Aintree.
The Liverpool women this weekend, short shirted, curvy thighed and balancing heroically on staggering stack heels, armed with killer Shellacs and mighty blonde manes, are beautiful. Bold and bright, they shout “look at me!”, and we should. We should look at them and praise them, our women, for being them, for doing what they want. Instead we sneer, the 2014 Aintree Ladies Day image of choice a shot of a two tanned legs, one ankle looped with an electronic tag.
Look at the kip of that! Who does she think she is?
Sneering captions are tacked to photographs of our tanned Scouse Amazons, flashed up on Facebook by Daily Hate copycats. Click and share and sneer, quickly! You might get left behind.
Sneer first, consider later that the same tired ankle tag bracelet photograph has done the rounds for months, no date or venue attached. It could have been taken at a wedding, anywhere; or Ascot. Ever heard of Photoshop? In these times of click and share and sneer, it’s a thought too far to think. A breath too big, a brain too stretched. No time to pause between clicks.
To click and share and sneer are easier, let’s do that.
There’s no need to click and share and sheer at a better class of racecourse, with its finer class of punter to match, the bankers, nightclub owners, fat cats with high moral codes bleached white and scrubbed clean. You can say one thing about bankers, they’d never wear electronic ankle tags at a racecourse. Heavens no! Perish the thought! They’ve never been caught, convicted, condemned, for one.
But don’t bother about that, not when there’s time to click and share and sneer. If happy to be spoon fed, don’t forget to lick the back of the spoon, be sure to get it all.
Read the first chapter of my crime novel Blood Money hereread more