The Queen Is Once Again in Ascot's Royal Enclosure. You Could (Maybe) Hang Out There Too.
Let’s start with the basics: Ascot Racecourse is a racetrack in the British town of Ascot, about an hour outside of London.
It’s no different than any other genteel but ever so slightly Damon Runyonesque place, like Kentucky’s Churchill Downs or New York’s Belmont Park. After a relatively recent rebuild, the Ascot Racecourse more closely resembles a mall or a mid-sized airport (so much so that it actually stood in for the Shanghai Airport in the James Bond film Skyfall) crossed with a touch of the faded luxe vibe of the Metropolitan Opera House. It has a soaring central atrium crisscrossed by escalators and encircled with various bars, cafes (some swanky and some less so) along with discrete sets of double doors on the mezzanine leading to the private boxes.
Just about dead center is the Royal Box, identifiable only by the lineup of bronze medallions of past monarchs’ heads above the door and horsey door handles shaped like riding crops. Everywhere else there are numerous betting windows and flat screen TVs, and that constant hummy hubbub of a typical mall or airport.
But for five days each June, it morphs into the setting for the most extraordinary pageantry imaginable: Royal Ascot, the Queen’s official thoroughbred race meeting. Founded by Queen Anne in 1711, this convention of British society is steeped in tradition, from its rigid dress code in certain areas, to the refreshments (heavy on champagne and Pimm’s), to the palpably measured joie de vivre that is core to the British people.
Attended by more than 300,000, Royal Ascot is a wouldn’t-miss-it for some, a wouldn’t-be-caught-dead-there for others. But one person who pretty much hasn’t missed it ever is Her Majesty the Queen, and I have to admit that seeing her arrive at Royal Ascot in a carriage drawn by four white horses at the stroke of two o’clock brings me to tears without fail.
Going to Royal Ascot isn’t difficult. It is as accessible as any American racetrack or other large sporting event. That is, if you don’t care where you hang and wouldn’t dream of being told what to wear. The facility is clearly divided into thirds: the Windsor Enclosure (formerly the Silver Circle) occupies a large portion of the lawn and grandstand and has no dress code other than a ban on "replica shirts" (or, as we would call them, sports jerseys).
It has three entertainment stages, lots of bars and food stalls, and is known as party central for the hardest of partiers. It rocks long after the last race of the day and has seen its share of fist fights and falling downs.
The Queen Anne Enclosure is the equivalent of flying premium economy. Women are asked to dress "smartly" with some kind of headdress. Men are required to wear suits and ties. It’s extremely crowded, aspirational, fun, and very young. But the Royal Enclosure, which requires one to either be a member or the guest of a member, is the essence of Royal Ascot. Here, women are required to wear a modest dress or pantsuit and a hat with a base no smaller than four inches.
Fascinators are not allowed. Men must wear traditional morning dress: a black or grey tailcoat, striped trousers, a waistcoat and a top hat, even when the temperatures soar. Hats must be worn at all times, except within the confines of a restaurant. On the most excruciatingly hot day, officials did make a tradition-breaking exception, allowing men to doff their coats and hats intermittently. Regardless of the rigors of the rig, it’s well worth the effort to hobnob with royals and other assorted fancy folk while watching some of the most thrilling thoroughbred racing imaginable.
How one gains admittance into the Royal Enclosure is part of the mystique of Royal Ascot. Akin to joining an exclusive city or country club, it has its hushed hurdles. There was a time that the U.S. Ambassador to the Court of St. James would provide a list of visiting American civilians along with diplomatic and military personnel for consideration.
In-the-know folks would carefully guard the contact information of the embassy employee responsible for the list as if it were a secret recipe, and every year around January would respectfully request the ambassador’s referral. If one’s references checked out, a letter, and more recently an e-mail, would be sent with an invitation to purchase a daily, multi-day or weekly badge.
That practice was discontinued in 2015, for reasons that remain unclear. Some murmur that the Obama-appointed ambassador personally felt that Americans had no business aspiring to the Royal Enclosure, as they were not subjects of the queen. Others hinted that it was part of an overall security crackdown. Most likely, it was simply due to the U.S. embassy's having more pressing issues to deal with than making sure socially ambitious Americans could gain admittance to a British inner sanctum.
Now, interested Americans are invited to apply for membership on their own. And that’s where the fun begins. The actual application is simple, and available online. The more daunting part is to provide letters of recommendation from two existing Royal Enclosure members who have themselves been members in good standing for a minimum of four years. A member can only make two recommendations per year, although a married couple counts as one referral.
Once the Royal Enclosure office has all of the necessary paperwork, one again waits in silence for the notification of acceptance. Inquiring as to the status of a pending application is not recommended. For those unwilling or unable to apply for membership in this fraughtly discreet manner, there is a back door: booking a typically hard-to-get luncheon reservation at one of the few designated Royal Enclosure restaurants. It’s freakishly expensive, but does come with a daily badge.
Royal Ascot, and especially the Royal Enclosure, is best experienced in a more freestyle way. Get there early enough to place a bet on the color of Her Majesty’s hat and snag a park bench on the shaded lawn in front of the grandstand to watch the parade of fashion. At precisely 1:45 p.m., rush up to the rail in time to see the queen’s carriage procession pass by closer than you could possibly imagine and then saunter into the garden for a heavenly lobster roll and a glass of champagne.
And if you’re so inclined, watch a few races (whether you wager or not), sip an icy Stella Artois, watch another race and, if you’re lucky, witness the queen present a trophy to the winning owners and chat with the jockeys. Whether you stay a few hours or the entire day, the experience will make memories that will last a lifetime.
('You Might Also Like',)
