HATS off to the lady for telling it like it is. Yvette Jelfs, the Edinburgh milliner and sometime commentator for the BBC on fashion at Ascot, won't be at the Royal meeting this week.
"Ascot has lost its appeal completely," she tells me. The atmosphere has vanished. You can't see anything. It's all so corporate now. You can buy your way into the Royal enclosure. True, the best horses in the world are there but do you want be yelle
d at by yobs of staff?
"I'd rather watch on television. If I'm there at all this week it'll be Friday, with some girl chums. But it won't be in one of the boxes, we'll be in the No1 car park."
Yvette was just back from a holidaying on the west coast with partner Leven Browne. "I'm back with a better tan from a week in Tiree then I had when we were in the Caribbean."
She has found a new retail outlet for her hats, formerly sold from her William Street shop. "They're available now at Belinda Robertson's in Dundas Street. It's a good arrangement. Belinda and I have a similar mentality and I don't pay a fortune in rates and rent. And when I'm in London I pop into her Belgravia store in West Halkin Street."
Meanwhile ocean-going oarsman Leven says he has more records to chase. Currently they are based near Hereford. Never a dull moment.
Silly rugger For your own good, mate, watch it next time you're in Tranent. Ross High play rugby there and they and the locals may well be looking for you.
Johnny Bacigalupo is a former rugby ref and player (Edinburgh Wanderers), long retired and now turning a shilling as an after-dinner speaker.
I heard him crack this one the other night: "Tranent is twinning with Beirut. Tranent's where the seagulls fly upside down, there's nothing there worth s-----g on."
Who'd dare trash the East Lothian spa town so? He had to be joking.
Afterwords . . . . . from Elton John, talking pianos to Bonhams, the fine art auctioneers: "It's the most ungainly rock 'n' roll instrument of all time." But then, he says, he never chose it. "I think the piano chose me. It was a place I felt safe. In many ways I was hiding behind six feet of wood."
The full article contains 398 words and appears in Edinburgh Evening News newspaper.
