Frocks, fillies and fascinators

Cup & Show Week

ROSEMARIE NORTH

The lead-up to the most celebrated week in Christchurch's calendar affects all kinds of people. But what's all the fuss about?

As Cup and Show Week nears, there will be primping and preening, and special diets. And that's just the sheep. What is the big deal with this headline feature of Canterbury's social calendar? Rosemarie North finds out. 

It's a spring rite that puzzles some newcomers to Canterbury - a festival of horses, big hats and slinky frocks, and prize farm animals. Why does this peculiar mix excite such passion among Cantabrians?

"It's loads and loads of fun," Merivale woman Jackie McCone explains. "Why anyone would want to miss out on it, I don't know."

She's been going to social events during Cup and Show Week "pretty much religiously" since 1990, "just because it's such a fantastic week and a chance to see people who you don't bump into usually". 

"It's a great chance to dress up and feel great."

"It's a special occasion, like a wedding, where you want to look your best. It goes further than just buying a dress. I take it to the point where I like to have facials, spray tans and manicures; something that gives you a vibrant, youthful look," says Jackie, who is a sales rep for a textiles company. 

It doesn't hurt that her birthday is on November 12 - so the whole week is a bit of a party. On the Friday (which is always a public holiday), Jackie will get ready at home, then it's out for a champagne breakfast with friends before she takes a taxi late morning to Addington Raceway and heads to the Lindauer Lawn, a tickets-only, cordoned-off area for seeing and being seen, where she might have a flutter, but not on every race. Jackie says the Lindauer Lawn is a perfect fit for her. 

"It's the area where I come across people I know. It probably feels more like a gathering of people by invitation. It feels more selective. The whole atmosphere within the area is indescribable. It's buzzy, it's vibrant. Everyone is having an amazing time."

Afterwards, she'll battle the crowds and head to Christchurch's Strip or Merivale for a meal.  

"We have an early start and a late finish."

But it's not the champers that's the big attraction.  

"I think I've been attending since my oldest child was in a pram and she would have been three months old. It's not a boozy situation. It's just a social, fun environment." 

What about the frock?  

"I have a pretty good idea. I have a dress that I haven't worn before, not for the races. Quite possibly I'll wear that, unless I stumble on something that I absolutely love." 

Philipa Charlesworth shares Jackie's passion for looking great. But she puts almost as much effort into her lambs as into her own appearance. For weeks before the Royal New Zealand Show, three of her luckiest Hampshire lambs will be on a diet, but not to slim them down. They are, after all, bred for their meat, Philipa says. Instead, her prize hopefuls need to get used to eating lucerne hay, barley and peas, as that's what they'll be eating during their three days at the A&P Show. 

The show includes competing farm animals, tractor pulling, shearing, cooking demonstrations, carnival rides, food and wine exhibits, and live music. It's a combination that has linked rural and urban communities and provided an insight into New Zealand society for many years.  

The lambs' real primping and preening starts a week before the show, says Philipa, 61, who farms at Hawarden and is the vice-president of the Canterbury A&P Association sheep sub-committee.  

"A week before the show, I wash them with a show shampoo to clean the shit off them and make sure their hooves and eyes are clean, with no build-up of sleep in their eyes."

At 6.30am every morning during the show, Philipa gives her stock a touch-up to repair any overnight unsightliness.

Philipa herself has a reputation as the best-dressed exhibitor at the Royal Show, which runs in the same week as major horse racing and fashion events. 

"I probably am by a country mile," she laughs. What, no polar-fleece then? "No, absolutely not."

Even when she's just tarting up her lambs, she'll be in jeans, a polo-shirt and imported gumboots. Once the sheep are ship-shape, Philipa gets glam.  

"One year, I wore a suede trouser suit. It was a lovely golden fawn. I've got very blonde hair. And I usually wear a little black tank top underneath. 

"I've got a lovely linen suit I bought in Rhode Island - lemon-yellow trousers with embroidered flowers, which are green and pink. The jacket is in a denim-jacket style. I'll wear that with a fuchsia tank top.   

"I always wear some form of necklace to match. I've got sculptured nails. They're usually matching whatever I'm wearing." 

If that's not enough to keep Philipa busy, for the three days of the show, she and her husband Edward will look after the Pimm's tent.

"We sell thousands and thousands of glasses of Pimm's cocktails to the public. It's exhausting," she says unconvincingly. "You meet so many people, which I love. I'm a very energetic, bubbly, flirty type of person."

Her good humour will be shared by more than 120,000 people expected to attend the three-day agricultural show. Including races and other events, more than 150,000 are expected at the eight-day spring extravaganza this year. The whole knees-up kicks off on November 7, with the best three-year-old horses from New Zealand and Australia competing in the major race of the day, the $1 million Magic New Zealand 2000 Guineas at Riccarton Park  Racecourse. 

Riccarton regular Dan Kelleher, of Memorial Avenue, doesn't give two figs about glamour. He has other priorities.

"Some of these ladies spend thousands on their outfits and, to me, it's an awful waste of time and money. It's like a ladies' fashion magazine."

*Read the full story in the October issue*