Royal Ascot and chavs
Barbarians at the gate
Jun 19th 2008 | ASCOT
From The Economist print edition
The most pukka of racing events gets more exclusive—or at least pretends to
AFP
Time’s up for bad taste“KNICKERS,” read the stern advice to racegoers at Royal Ascot, one of the swankiest society events of the summer: “a definite yes, but not on show please ladies.” Reminders were in order owing to a “lack of understanding of what formal daywear actually means in this day and age”, according to the organisers of the royal meeting, which began on June 17th. Miniskirts and spaghetti straps were banned in the poshest part of the course, and girls were asked to avoid streaky fake tans.
The subtext of this crackdown, horsey types reckon, is to deter “chavs”, a snooty term for people with flashy bad taste. Snobs have grumbled about Ascot going downhill for 300 years: the admittance of divorcees to the Royal Enclosure caused a stir in 1955, and the 1990s saw a battle over women’s right to wear trousers. Now the debate is more urgent because Ascot, like other summer staples—Henley, Wimbledon and the like—is being challenged by new pretenders. The middle classes flock to literary love-ins such as Hay-on-Wye, while music festivals like Glastonbury draw in the more adventurous members of the aristocracy. The emergence of this “new Season” is forcing Ascot to play up its strength: an image of refinement and exclusivity. The banshee shriek of a miniskirted chavette makes this harder.
The non-posh, however, make up the bulk of those at Ascot. Tickets cost £45 ($88), less than for a top-flight football match. And though the public gets through 170,000 bottles of champagne and four tonnes of smoked salmon over the five days, one can also buy a bacon roll for £3.50. Ascot’s image is upper- crust, but it is designed for mass appeal.
The racing world is unusually good at mixing social groups, says Kate Fox, a guerrilla anthropologist who has written a book on the racing scene. Gambling is crucial, she reckons, because shared risk-taking creates bonds. A flutter also satisfies people’s natural desire for risky behaviour, which might explain why disorder is rare at the races, despite the copious amounts of alcohol consumed by big groups of young men.
The social divide might not be that great anyway. The most fashionable place for a picnic lunch at Ascot is the car park, according to Lady Emily Compton, social editor of Tatler, a magazine that knows about such things. But even bumper-to-bumper, there is a hierarchy: Car Park No. 1 is “the car park”, Lady Compton says. Just don’t tell the chavs.
http://www.economist.com/world/britain/displaystory.cfm?story_id=11585342
