27 July 2013

My Second Tatton Flower Show


Yesterday I went with some friends  to the Tatton Flower show.
(For the sake of privacy I haven't included photos of my friends. All the people in these images are 'the general public'.)

Last year I came away with a rug, this year it was a hat.

This was a purely expedient purchase of course because it was very hot and sunny and I'd forgotten my sunglasses.


As you can see Tatton was a sea of white: white marquees, white cotton, white flesh, white hair.

The middle-aged, middle-classes were out in force for a day of ice-cream eating and the buying of stuff.



I don't think Tatton should market itself as a flower show. The more accurate title would be the 'RHS Eating and Buying Show at Tatton'.

Nothing wrong with that I suppose. I am one of the tribe after all, fully taking advantage of the opportunities to eat and buy, flowing from tent to tent in the river of day trippers, with my plastic bags rustling, and my fingers sticky from melted ice-cream. And I did admittedly have a good day with my friends. That is all you can wish for isn't it? Good times with friends.

But ... but ... would it be outrageous and immensely naive to wonder if a 'flower show' could be enjoyed without the almighty consumption of stuff? Do you remember taking the children to museums during the summer holidays and feeling aggrieved that the highlight of the trip for them was the shop at the end? The sight of a dinosaur skeleton wasn't enough. The print of the dinosaur on an eraser or pencil sharpener (and eating an ice-cream) was apparently the more enjoyable element of the visit. Sound familiar?

On a (slightly) lighter note, here is this year's 'Alpha male posing in a show garden':


As compared to last year's specimen of 'cool dude' this one left his brown shoes at home and chose to wear his pointy shoes instead. It was too hot for navy blazers so he and his friend decided the blue stripy shirt and skinny jeans combo would convey the right 'relaxed but authoritative' air.

I do wonder who was the object of their peacock display. How many commissions to design a similar garden do you think they made during the show? I don't think my fellow flustered matrons even considered it. Though we do appreciate the effort   ;-)