I am more than a little terrified. What had in my mind been a glamorous evening of wealthy cattle growers with plenty of older women flashing their old money on their wrists and earlobes is now spiralling into a glorified B&S Ball where bits of cardboard cover the bare earth, you have to walk 2km through stockyards to get to the venue, and people lose their clothes in the early hours of the morning in a quick tumble in the hay (literally) out the back of a pub.
Expensive silk shoes just don't seem right anymore.
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