#5 It was Acceptable in the 80s (and 90s) Part II
#5 It was acceptable in the 80s (and 90s): Part
2
Born in the 80s? Or not too far either side? You
might just remember a few more of these…
1.
All the
gear and no idea. Or pony.
If, like me, you were starved of a pony of
your own by your dream-crushing parents (yes, you might have had most other things
you wanted, but no way José
to the pony), then it might have made you feel a little better having bits of
kit you didn’t really need. One of the best Christmas presents I ever received –
aside from a set of glorious Fashion Star Fillies – was my own grooming kit. No
more ‘own a pony week’ riding holidays spent digging around for a battered body
brush that Susan had just filled with enough grey fuzz from Snowy to stuff a
couch with, oh no. My very own, very organised, bright red grooming tidy,
containing:
·
1 x red hoof pick
·
1 x red dandy brush
·
1 x red and blue body brush – with the rainbow-striped handle
·
1 x red plastic curry comb
·
1 x metal curry comb with green leather strap
·
1 x red plastic mane comb
·
1 x strapping pad/cloth – does anyone even do this still?!
·
1 x face sponge
·
1 x bum sponge
·
1 x hoof oil brush
·
1 x ‘No,
you are not having hoof oil, you’ll spill it.’
2.
Unwarranted
safety fears
Paranoia out hacking grew from two main seeds,
planted by those bastard pony magazines I spent all my time reading:
1.
“I don’t have any baler twine, a hoof pick or
a 10 pence piece for the phone. What if something happens?”
It
mattered little that I was with two instructors, three helpers and about 15
other riding school pupils.
2. Whips with handles. Initially, these seemed
really nifty, but once you’d read that somewhere out there, there was a bush
just waiting to grab the end of your whip, drag you off by the wrist and eat
you whole, the scissors soon came out and your new whip was ruined. Whips with
two little stumps where their handle used to be must surely have been in
everyone’s cupboards at some point in time.
3.
Weather
hazards
1. Ice: Attempting
to stay on your feet at the water trough in icy conditions, wearing jodhpur
boots with no grip was no laughing matter. Unless you were the person watching
someone else sprinting on the spot, boots slapping against the ice with their
face getting closer and closer to the ground. Then it was pretty funny.
2. Rain: The
perfect excuse to be told to clean the entire contents of the tack room, on a
yard with around 40 horses. No shortcuts. Tack taken to pieces, damp sponge,
saddle soap sponge, oil sponge, Silvo for metal. And doing it happily all
afternoon with the radio playing.
3. Sun: Several pitfalls
here. Firstly, twat tans. Including milk bottle legs, chest ‘V’, a white halo
where your hat (or Adidas cap) had been sitting and thick white ‘strap’ marks
where you’d rolled your t-shirt sleeves up and tucked them under your bra (or
vest). Secondly, the little bastards in black and yellow suits, intent
on stinging you for your Dairylea triangle sandwich/Dairylea Stackables/Dairylea
Dunkers/caramel Rocky Robin.
Thirdly,
the dust. If it hadn’t formed you a perfect new Des Lynam/Kevin Keegan/Bruce
Forsythe-style 'tache, then it was certainly coming out of your nose for
approximately three blows once you got home.
4.
TV
highlight of the week
Tuesdays, 4/5pm, C4: If Wishes Were Horses
You might remember the catchy theme tune:
“When you’re
feeling kinda low,
You can
always be sure they’re there,
They will
cheer you up I know,
You can
always be sure they care.
When you’re
cleaning tack,
When you’re
moving muck,
When you’re
doing all your chores,
Still you’re
having fun,
You don’t
seem to mind,
Coz you
know you and your horse are friends,
Friends,
friends,
You’re
friends.
The ironic bit about these opening credits was
the pony being an absolute twat right on the ‘You can always be sure they care’
line. Click the link for a giggle – you can thank me later.
5.
Annual
sporting events
And to cap this instalment off, I’d
just like to give a shout-out to anyone else who has ridden round Hickstead or
Aintree. You might have been on a backwards-facing dining chair, wearing your
hat, carrying your whip and using your mother’s handbag strap for reins, but
you rode it damn well. Be proud.
I remember a certain someone being quite proud about the contents of her nostrils! ...' Look mam, it's black!!!!'. Happy days!
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