I can't believe I can get the word detritus into two posts. It is in tomorrow's Sunday Selections and this one.
This evening we dined early at our favourite Thai/Vietnamese/Indian/Chinese/Malay restaurant, Lemon Bistro in Little Bourke Street. We were lucky enough to get a window seat and see many attendees to the Derby Day horse racing meeting pass by. It was not very pretty. In fact you would call what we saw the detritus of Derby Day.
The lass who was third out of the stretch limo looked ok, until she threw up in the alley opposite. So many woman, mostly young, could not walk properly in high heels and looked ridiculous. Some woman carried their shoes. One Anglo Australian girl had her Asian boyfriend carry hers. He knew his place as she strided on in front of him. One woman who may have seen the age of 40 wasn't too bad. Another wearing a 40's style dress almost had it right. The dress should have been below the knee, not above. I felt pity for the young lass who was in pink, when she would have been surrounded by black and white, as is the custom at Derby Day. Why didn't anyone tell her?
I shan't even mention what the blokes were wearing, except quite a few were wearing trousers that were unfashionably too tight. I didn't mind that so much.
I guess the creme de la creme of Melbourne racing society did not head to China Town for the evening, nor the creme de la creme of attendees. I managed to stand out among the riff raff by wearing a green Ben Sherman shirt. It will be binned tomorrow, mainly because it is too long and doesn't have a pocket for my reading glasses.