Lucy Goes To A Polo Match

So I have this friend, the best friend in the world, the best friend I have ever had in my whole life, the best friend I will ever have, and she tells me all the time, "Lucy, you need to blog!" The fact that there is even just one person out there who reads and enjoys what a write is so inspiring to me. It has made me realize that doing this is important...more important than most of the things I waste my time doing. So thanks to her pushing (I am so grateful Alex, really, I do not know where I would be without you) and this new phase of my life, I here begin my new series in which Lucy does...stuff
So in this new glamorous life I lead (Ha) I apparently not only go to fashion shows and after parties but also to polo matches...shortly followed by a night of delivery pizza and bad television. Polo is one of those things that I though only ever happened in movies or bad romance novels, but no. Everyone really does dress head to toe in Ralph Lauren, down buckets of champagne, and pretend to understand a less than exciting sport, all while speaking in ridiculously pretentious accents. I loved it.
As you can imagine the people watching was top notch, there was even some celeb spotting (Geordie Shore anyone?). My own style inspiration usually comes from people I see in real life, rather than the glossed over pages of a magazine, and so this one afternoon was a veritable treasure trove of ideas. It was blatantly obvious that everyone who attended was there to be seen, but at the same time wanting to fit in and look at ease. The dress code seemed to consist of wide leg trousers of various autumnal shades, sharp blazers, and plenty of flowing scarves tied around necks and hand bags.
All in all I found the atmosphere exciting rather than stuffy. The day was organized for fun and enjoyment; a celebratory farewell to the last glimpses of the fleeting English summer all in the name of supporting the troops. A mid match rain shower only seemed to give fuel to the party fire. But by the end of the day we were all wet, cold, and ready to lounge around in sweat pants eating greasy cheap food, and so that is what we did, even splurging on a cab ride up the hill (a grand total of 1 pound each).
I am both fascinated and bemused by people who focus their lives around this sort of event. But for a relaxed Saturday escape it was a truly unique experience. When in London, do as the posh people do!