I Think Tomorrow is a "Say Something" Hat Day

This Saturday is one of my favorite sporting days in the calendar year – Derby Day. To me, it marks the start of the warm, wonderful, themed weekends of summers. I say entirely unapologetically… I frickin’ love the Kentucky Derby.

The Kentucky Derby fulfills the fundamental needs of my inner little girl attitude: ponies and playing fancy dress-up. Ponies were meant to run. Donning colorful headgear is a bonus. Likewise women are meant to run about, donning amazing hats, brunch-with-grandma-appropriate dresses and fabulous heels. Derby Day Dapper brings out the best in the fellas and just reeks of an Old South class and charm. Little girls love handsomely dressed, charming men. And let’s face it: Mint Juleps are really just sassy snow-cones for adults.

An ode to Vida Boheme and dearest Audrey

Seeing the sweeping shots of Churchill Downs and the epic recaps of the glorious wins of the past, it makes me feel an awkwardly intense sense of pride. This good old fashioned pony race is tradition. I remember putting on the silly hats with as much fake floral as we could pin on, picking our champions and watching the race. My grandma, mom, aunts, sister: all in our ridiculous hats. And it was magical. I had next to no idea what was happening, but I had a fun hat on, my family, something to cheer for and there were ponies. On Derby Day, I was the happiest damn kid on the planet.

Now, I may not be a betting woman, but when it comes this, a gal needs a victor. On Derby Day, I love tossing money at and cheering for exotically named creatures; much like a bachelor party at a Vegas strip club – only with more verve. Days of buildup leads to two minutes of total spastic shrieking, jumping and joy.  Those horses spend their whole lives training for that moment. Their jockeys vying for that moment in sun, under the mass of roses. Both chasing that illusive Triple Crown. You get two minutes of pure adrenaline and a glorious day of shenanigans. Much less pressure, many more Juleps!

So this weekend, you’ll know where to find me… Decked out in my most obnoxious hat and pearls. Belting out the words to “My Old Kentucky Home.” With a tear in my eye and a song in my heart - despite never having lived in Kentucky. Because no matter where you call home, during the bugle call to post, we’re all neighbors at Churchill Downs. And maybe that’s the point…

Hoofing at holy ground, on the track at Churchill Downs - put me in, coach!