White Turf

White Turf is an annual horse racing event that takes place in February on the frozen lake in St. Moritz, Switzerland. The races last all day and vary in style, from the 1100m sprint, to the Skijoering, which consists of the horses running the track while pulling the “jockey” behind on skis. The yearly event is known for drawing an international upper class, with excesses of fur and money. Upon hearing that the Swiss considered the event “high-brow”, it was somethi I HAD to see for myself. These people live and breathe high-brow and therefore, it would take something truly decadent to draw that sort of comment.

To set the stage, St. Moritz is one of Switzerland’s, and possibly the world’s, most famous winter resorts. Add on top of that the glamour and money of horse racing, and the comments of “high brow” started to sound less like an exaggeration.

Mentally and physically prepared for the day of ritz and glam, Anna, Braden, Hurricane McKane and I headed down to St. Moritz feeling slightly underdressed, what with our lack of fur, designer purses and moon boots…Yes moon boots. Who knew Napoleon Dynamite could start a fashion trend?! But from what we saw, I was more than happy to be “underdressed”. Although we were down there for the horse races, the majority of time was spent staring, or should I say gawking, at the outrageous outfits: my favorite being a woman with so many tails hanging off of her fur coat that an entire pack of animals must have given their life in vane to create the monstrosity she called a jacket, not to mention her matching fur purse, with just as many tails, and the fur jacket for her little dog too.

Not only did the day allow for great people watching, we enjoyed countless glasses of wine and Swiss standard kalb bratwurst, and occasionally watched the races which were spaced out by 30 minutes, lasted only 2 minutes and allowed plenty of time for socializing, seeing people and more importantly, being seen yourself.

The day was absolutely beautiful with sunny weather and no wind, and for just those few hours, I felt like I could possibly get used to the high brow life style of Switzerland. Of course that feeling was short lived, by the time I got home, I was ready for my elastic waist pants and wife beater tank top.