All sun at the fair
Submerged to the neck in aloe vera, I gingerly make my way around the keyboard. It seems no matter how much slip, slop and slapping I do, there is always a piece of me that peeks through and says hello to the sun – and usually it’s the most embarrassing burn a young man who sometimes wears lady’s clothing can get.
I have only recently gotten rid of the bikini-style brownness I received at the vigil, but on Sunday my latest sizzling defied reasonable belief.
Once again I was approached to be involved in hosting the main stage at Fair Day – actually it was more like I jumped on the organisers for the opportunity, as I have done for a number of years now.
Fair Day is such a wonderful day and I just have to be a part of it. I know it’s not only me that finds it an exemplary day on the calendar, but many people mark it as the only day on their calendar that they venture into the scene.
And what a glorious day we had this year! Standing on stage looking out to the sea of faces, some familiar, others just smiling, the sense of community was overwhelming. And I love that I am able to be included in it.
Thinking of past experiences I decided to go with a flowing light dress with a huge hat, giving me what I thought was plenty of sun protection.
With head designer Dallas Dellaforce on the case we came up with a replica of the very famous 80s Flake chocolate advert (later copied by Cherry Ripe) featuring a Southern belle. I thought it sounded like me to a T.
On arriving I was ushered backstage, given a clipboard and I was up and going. Before I knew it I was introducing Cosima and her very bronzed backing dancers (both proving boys can wear lots and lots of makeup during the day too).
The misty rain saw the temperature plummet momentarily – and this is what led to my biggest mistake.
As the temperature changed from hot to warm to cool to blazing saddles, I skipped through the park, kissing boys and girls, waving, having the odd refreshment and posing for pictures here and there. But all the time I was oblivious to my unveiled trauma.
Afterwards I jumped in a cab and was whisked home. I was horrified when I looked in the mirror to check my make-up, only to find my gorgeous frock had not offered me the protection I was expecting. Particularly across the bust area, it caused me to look like I had some kind of Parton-esque cleavage.
Ah well – another lesson learned.
But before I race off to reapply lotion to the body, I have to thank all the guys and girls backstage at Fair Day – they looked after me fabulously. You’re the best.
