Touching Down
As I am sure you are all aware by now, my dedication to pageantry is quite boundless. But what even I didn’t realise was how far I’d be willing to take it. Pretty far it turns out. Pretty damn far.
I’ll start at the beginning. We had a wedding which was being held in Durban. Awesome! Weekend away, some warm weather, a beautiful beach and time with friends. Then I checked the dates and it turned out that the wedding was the day before Loki’s first away show being held in Cape Town. And there was no way he could miss this show. It’s a super prestigious one similar to the black tie event in January but not black tie and not at night, so just a “very important” regular show. I had to work out the logistics. After much deliberation and some serious work on an excel spreadsheet I decided that my husband and I would fly together to the wedding. Then he would fly directly to Cape Town and fetch the car so he could pick us up when we arrived. I would then fly home (to JHB) pick up Loki and then fly to Cape Town. This was not a well thought out plan.
When we arrived in Durban our taxi got hopelessly lost. What we were expecting to be a 15 minute ride turned out to be a 45 minute hell ride. Four people crammed with luggage into one taxi and a driver who obviously didn’t know the area. Thankfully we pulled over at a petrol station and a very kind woman in a Pajero offered to let us follow her because, as it turns out, she lived int he same complex as where we were staying. Finally we arrived. Great place, great weather and what I was hoping would be a great 36 hours.
The next morning half the crew went to the beach. My friend and I decided we would rather take the car and go to Dischem. Yes, that was the actual plan. She needed a headband and I needed to avoid the beach. So we took the car and headed to where we thought was the Dischem. We landed up getting very lost. Again. But then we turned on Maps and we eventually figured it out. 25 Minutes later. When we were done we headed home and got even more lost. We were so off course that even Maps wasn’t sure what to tell us. Eventually we made it back with just 30 minutes left to get ready for the wedding.
After the quickest half an hour of my life we finally made it back into the car and set off for the wedding.Then guess what? We got lost again trying to find the venue. I could sense a theme emerging… Luckily we made it just in time for the ceremony and a much needed drink!
The next day was the big one. It started bright and early at 6am. We then waited for an hour for our taxi who never let us know he was running late. With half an hour to get to the airport and check in the taxi made it his mission to get us there and fast. That was hell ride number two but we made it just in time! The flight home was relatively smoothe. I then took the train back to Sandton and got a lift to my house from there. Too much travelling for me and I wasn’t even half way done yet.
Then my lift arrived early to take me and Loki to the airport. I had two Xanor’s in my pocket in case Loki freaked out at the airport and a bottle of Rescue Remedy for me. Let me tell you, taking a dog to an airport for the first time, alone, is not a pleasant experience. The poor dog was so overwhelmed with all the people and the frantic environment he was totally unsure of where to put himself. I checked us in and decided to take him down to the grass in front of the Southern Sun for a walk. We walked around on the circular patch of grass for the next 45 minutes. Without stopping. Because every time we stopped, the poor dog got scared and started whining. So after the walk the time came for me to check my baby in. This was possibly the scariest experience of my life. The security guys who take the “Excess Baggage” items to the plane decided to start taking photos of Loki and asking about how much we paid for him. This was just about as much as I could cope with. The panic that rose in my body at that moment was indescribable. I was running out of time and had to decid what to do. Let him go with the guy who potentially wants to steal him and sell him, probably to a dog fighting ring, or abandon everything and run away with my dog safely by my side?
I made a dash for the check in desk to confirm that these guys were 100% going to get my baby onto the plane. I was assured by the woman that I had her word. So I let them take him. There is no way to explain the absolute wave of helplessness and panic that came over me. The tears started to flow uncontrollably and I could feel the panic attack starting to overwhelm me. So I grabbed a Xanor out of my pocket and took half. Did I mention that it was an oddly busy day at the domestic terminal and that I had to wait in a queue for twenty minutes before I even reached the entrance of the security check point. By the time I reached the boarding gate my mind was so controlled by fear I was totally at its mercy. By some miracle, I was assigned a seat at the back of the plane. This meant I had to walk outside to go up the back steps to get to my seat. On my way I saw them loading my baby child into the cabin on the plane. I was so frantic at this point I nearly ran directly to the guys loading the bags but I stopped myself just in time to avoid arrest. I flagged them down though and they assured me that my dog was safe and actually quite calm. Unfortunately this relief was not enough given my frazzled mind so I did the only thing I could do to try and regain some semblance of composure before taking my seat. I swallowed the other half of the Xanor and prayed for the best.
When I touched down in Cape Town I literally ran off the plane and to the luggage carousel. And there he was, waiting for me without a care in the world, my little Loki bug. I have never felt a sense of relief like that, ever!
The rest of the trip will be up very soon. Even I need a break after recounting that horror!
Taking Flight
Well folks, it has certainly been a while since I have put the proverbial pen to paper and posted something. I have been busy though. Taking care of a pageant puppy is hard work, and little did I know what lay ahead of me after the Best Puppy In Show win last year.
When my Loki won the show last year, the breeder kept saying “Super Sevens, Super Sevens” over and over. I was understandably confused but then, I am almost always in a state of perpetual confusion at these shows. I am such a rookie and I’m learning as I go. So I put it down to a weird, celebratory “war cry” and left it at that. When the dust settled and a month or two had passed I received an email from my breeder. Apparently, “Super Sevens” was not in fact a war cry, but a Super competition for all the Best In Show winners of the year. A lot of pennies were beginning to drop.
So the “Supa 7s” as it is correctly spelled is an annual black tie affair for all the dogs who qualify by winning Best In Show titles. And yes, you did read correctly when I said black tie. On Sunday, 18th January 2014 we suited up, packed up, and made our way to the hotel which hosted the event. Sunday also happened to be the hottest day of summer so far. So black tie in a heat wave with a dog.
We arrived at 3:30pm. I waited with Loki and our bags/cage/mass of stuff while my husband went to find a parking. I decided to take Loki for a quick walk through the designated “Exercise Area”. The lawn was beautiful and there was a perfect amount of shrubs and small trees for Loki to sufficiently mark his spot absolutely everywhere. He then decided, in an unprecedented show move, to take a huge poop on the lawn. I cannot explain my horror. It was made clear in the email that “your dogs poop is your problem” and that it was your responsibility to get rid of it appropriately. So by this point I was dressed in a formal black dress, had my dog on a lead in 38 degree heat and I had to find a plastic bag to dispose of a poop. The breeder appeared at that point and took Loki with him which freed me up to find the bag and “sort shit out”. I felt sincerely devoted to my dog at that point. I think that once you can deal with the poop and still go back and give the pup a hug, you know its truly unconditional love.
Once indoors it was a whole new world. The foyer area before the actual hall was filled with people and their dogs. Every kind of dog you can imagine. All I can say is that there was a lot of hairspray being used and a lot of hair brushing going on. And not on the owner’s hair. It also became increasing clear how seriously people took this event. I saw many a bow tie and many a sequined dress. This was the real deal competition in the dog show world and I was right in the thick of it.
Grooming Loki didn’t take long. He’s a staffie so there wasn’t a lot of fussing. The breeder brought Loki’s biological father with as well because he had also made it through. Loki’s dad’s name is Rob Roy and he is the reason we chose to get a puppy from our breeders. I bought a magazine one day with staffies on the front for my husband because I knew he loved staffies. Inside was a picture of the most gorgeous black staffie and that’s when we decided we wanted one “like that”. Rob is a champion in his own right and a true legacy for my Loki bug to live up to. I was secretly hoping to make dog show history with a father and son win.
Eventually we went into the main hall for the dinner to begin. The hall was huge and in the centre was a huge show ring for the dogs. Everyone was sitting on spielkas to hear the announcement of who the judge was. The judge was flown in from Belgium and her identity was kept secret until they introduced her on the night. Yes folks I am being 100% serious. So when she came out I am not going to lie, it was a bit of an anti-climax. No-one had heard of her or knew anything about her and she was rather elderly, so not much of a sight for sore eyes. All I remember about her is that she started off her illustrious career judging dalmatians.
Once starters were finished they called for the puppies. I always get extremely anxious at the point just before Loki enters the ring and this was serious business. They called the dogs in by groups (there are seven) and Loki formed part of the Hound / Terrier group. He went into the ring with an adorable miniature dachshund, a wire hair fox terrier, a greyhound and about five other dogs which I cannot name because I don’t know what they are. This competition was so serious that the dogs left the ring unplaced. After every group had been in the ring and each puppy had had the chance to strut their stuff every single puppy competing came back into the ring for “Shortlist Selection”. This meant that Loki went from being in a group of seven to being judged in a group of 40 puppies. The ring was full. It’s at this point that my anxiety peaked and I had to go off to the side so that I could be alone with my panic. The Judge then collected her seven rosettes to hand out to the shortlist finalists and walked around the ring to start handing them out. when she came to Loki I was basically blue in face from holding my breath. And then she handed our breeder a rosette! A scream of relief left my mouth and I was very thankful that I was all alone. I could not believe my baby boy, my little bug, my puppy angel had been placed in the top seven!
Once I had composed myself we took Loki back into the foyer and put down the prizes. My husband and I decided to take a dinner break and sit outside for a while so we could call the family to tell them the exciting news. As we reached the gardens we couldn’t help but overhear a woman’s phone conversation: “She is such a B*#ch, I couldn’t believe it. I saw her and I walked straight passed her. And you should see what she looks like! She looks like a big, fat green seal!” We walked away briskly at that point. people were taking things very personally…
When it came to final judging I wasn’t sure what would happen. Only a winner and runner up are announced. The winner went to a Collie of some kind. Then, as she approached my boy I noticed something. Right next to him stood a rather large lady in a rather tight greenish dress. Could this be the “green seal” I had heard about earlier? As that thought dawned on me, she was handed the rosette for runner up. So in the end, the french bulldog (who was extremely cute I have to admit) took runner up. I imagine it must have been far more of a sore point for the woman on the phone than me. I can only imagine the follow up call…
The cracker was when we opened our prizes at home. It turned out we had won an electric kettle. And a portable light. And a lot of magazines. I think it’s pretty clear that we are in it for the love.
The Pageant Trails Continues…
I am the last of the great competitors. I have never excelled at any sport or artistic endeavour and on the odd occasion my academics got a nod it was hard earned. As a result, I have not developed much of a competitive streak.
This all changed the day we brought home our “son of a champion” puppy. My husband and I have always owned and loved staffies and last year the time came to add another beautiful soul to our pack. We researched breeders and found the perfect pup! His parents were “champions”, whatever that actually meant, and more importantly to me, they were gorgeous and adorable! Four months later we were called to say our baby boy had been born and would be ready for his new home in two months. We were ecstatic and my hubby immediately went shopping to kit out the new pup. About a month before we picked up our little angel we were sent “The Contract”. A contract to buy a puppy? I had never heard of anything like this in my life. Having a smidgen of legal knowledge, I decided to give it a thorough read through. Most of the document was about the well-being of the dog which was great to see but the thing that really got my attention was the clause that stated that we would have to show the puppy. If we didn’t want to show him then the breeder would happily pick him up and bring him back after the show. I had never even thought about showing a dog before, let alone been bound to do so by a contract. I guess that’s where the “champion” part about the parents came from. We decided to sign the contract anyway and see what happened.
The day finally arrived for us to fetch our baby. We drove to the furthest outskirts of Pretoria and when we arrived what was waiting for us was mind blowing. The breeders’ house was filled from floor to ceiling with rosettes and pictures of the dogs that they had bred, shown and won with. I could not believe it. Literally thousands of rosettes. We were taken to see our puppy, a black beauty and his brother, a tiger brindle. This means he was an ‘orange’ brindle which is very rare. I have learned a lot since that day. The breeder decided to keep the rare, albeit slightly smaller, brindle and give us the black pup. I was over the moon, I had always wanted a jet black staff! Once we were taken through the feeding, sleeping and recommended exercise regime for the pup we were taken outside to learn how to “stack” him. I was as confused as I am sure you are right now. Stacking means “show stance”. When you see those dogs in pictures and they look like they are standing at attention for the queen, they are not in fact doing that. They are just standing very fancy so they look awesome for the judge at a show. So my 10 week old staffie was already trained to do this and all we had to do was keep it up and practice every day. Yes, every single day.
When the day of the first show arrived we were quite relaxed and more curious than anything. We arrived at the kennel club and our eyes were opened to a whole new world. A serious and competitive new world. The dogs on show were magnificent and there were more breeds than I knew existed. We casually sauntered over to the staffie ring and it was there that I discovered a whole new side of myself. Our little one is named Loki, after the mythological god of mischief and also the cool baddie in Avengers. When the breeder took him into the ring, competing against his brindle brother, I was an absolute wreck of anxiety and tension. Had we stacked him enough? Was he going to walk properly? Mostly I was petrified he was going to pee in the ring. He was a serial pee-er as a small puppy and it could literally happen anywhere, anytime. Incidentally he did not pee in the ring. And he stacked really well. The walking was average but we were going to work on that. And then, he won! I could not believe it. The elation was something I had never felt before (having never really won anything myself) and it felt good!
The “tiger mom” in me rose up and out of nowhere I was taking in information and tips like a crazy person. We went to buy him a “show collar” and “show leash” immediately so he would have his own gorgeous leather set for the next show. We were set. I understood what “champion” meant and I wanted that title. Bad.
That was just the beginning. We are official “pageant parents” now. We watch “Toddlers & Tiaras” and we kind of understand where the parents are coming from. We are admittedly crazed and obsessed. These days show days include washing Loki with special shampoo for black coats so they really shine and clipping his toes and then colouring them in with a permanent marker before we leave. Yes you read that right. It makes them shine too!
As I sit here writing this I still cannot believe what has become of me. But I love my Loki too much to consider taking away the chance of his success from him, and believe it or not, he loves the shows! To date he has won many more rosettes and most recently he won best puppy in group. That means he won best staffie puppy and best terrier puppy! Against other terrier breeds! OMG, you must be thinking “cray cray” by now.
What I have learned is that you never stop learning about yourself. There might just be a crazy person inside all of us just waiting for the perfect opportunity to come out and take over. I couldn’t be happier though. And I can’t wait for the next show. My baby has grown heaps since the last one…
I AM A PAGEANT PARENT. OMG.
This year the Oscars Red Carpet did much to get me excited. In a good way and also in a blood boiling kind of way. Sometimes I really don’t understand movie stars. All the resources in the world, fashion and Hollywood’s biggest night and yet some of the strangest choices are made. Some stars know how to hire a good stylist and some do not but when they get it right the result is unparalleled.
Let me begin with the Blood Boilers.
Jennifer Aniston, what were you thinking? You might think I am crazy for saying this because she wearing a stunning red Valentino gown. I would also think so if I hadn’t seen the exact same dress on TWO much younger starlets at the 2013 Golden Globes. Why would you make your grand finale red carpet appearance a repeat version of a look that’s already overdone? When I saw Zooey Deschanel (Oscar de la Renta) and Jennifer Lawrence (Dior Haute Couture) at the Golden Globes, I was cringing for them both! I think Stylists should have a “November Conference” just to make sure that we get to see the best of the best wearing the best of the best, not the same thing over and over. And over. Poor Jen. She is always being outshone by brunettes.
I must now move on to Helen Hunt. She’s finally back on the Hollywood radar with a Best Supporting Actress nomination and she shows up in H&M. And boat loads of Neil Lane Jewellery. Explain that combo. To be honest I couldn’t care who the designer of the dress is, I just think it was badly made. It was not tailored to her body so it hung all over the show instead of being tight and well fitted and worst of all it was wrinkled everywhere. It looked like she took the sample off the racks in a department store that had been tried on by every woman and their aunt and then left for her to find. So disappointing and so unattractive. Again I ask, where’s the inspiration?
But it’s enough ranting. I did actually love some dresses so let’s move on to some truly inspired choices.
My absolute standout, best of the best was Naomi Watts. She’s had some major misses in the past but she came out looking the epitome of class and style. She was literally adorned in her silver metallic Armani Privé gown. The super modern cut out over one shoulder was so edgy and stylish and the dress fitted her absolutely perfectly. This is how it’s done. Her hair and make-up was immaculate and perfectly complimented the magnificence of the gown. Also in a metallic dress and also an Aussie movie star, Nicole Kidman paled in comparison to her bestie in a black and gold sequinned, overly embellished, black and gold L’Wren Scott creation. Hated it from top to toe. But I digress…
Another immaculate superstar of the night was Ms Halle Berry. My jaw dropped to the floor when I saw her. Versace got it so right with this dress and I have to say that it may as well have been custom made for her because absolutely no other body could fill that dress so impeccably well. The lines were perfect and every asset was shown off just enough. So much edge and just the right red carpet on which to come out and make her mark.
Last, and unfortunately least, I must pay homage to my fashion obsession, Helena Bonham Carter. She fascinates me entirely and I am constantly wishing for a chance to style her myself. She is so beautiful and she speaks so eloquently. If only the woman had a clue how to dress! I was really hopeful after her BAFTA almost-success. I felt it was a step in the right direction, albeit a small one. And then she rocked up at The Oscars in her favourite designer, none other than Vivienne Westwood of course. And just like that she was back to her usual hot-mess self. So unfortunate, but at least she’s consistent. And I never feel like her choices are uninspired so I’ll give her kudos for that. Give me my chance any day, Helena, and I will make you outshine them all!
The Oscars, of course.