It’s Kentucky Derby weekend, and the people of Louisville are donning their finest attire for a day at the races. Ornate hats will balance atop the heads of well-heeled ladies, as they watch the Run for the Roses tomorrow.
These fashion statements of Churchill Downs may be relics of the past, yet Kentucky racegoers embrace this tradition with gusto each year.
Although my home is in Louisville, I have not yet attended our famous race, but someday I hope to don a wide brimmed, lavishly festooned head piece, to sip mint juleps, as I place my bets at Churchill Downs.
Every year as I admire the beautiful hats of the Kentucky Derby, I am reminded of a poem I learned in Ireland many years ago.
If I Were A Lady was written by Percy French (1854 ~ 1920), a balladeer and songwriter from County Roscommon.
The first lines of his poem go like this:
“If I were a lady I’d wear a hat
That all the street would be lookin’ at.”
And every year at Derby time I just can’t help but say in my head …..
If I were a lady I’d wear a hat,
That all the Derby’d be lookin’ at.
This poem is one of my favorite party pieces. It’s recited in a true Dublin accent, where the ~g at the end of every ~ing word is dropped. The lady of our poem probably lived in one of Dublin’s tenement buildings, and she dreamed of being a lady.
I love the wit and nuance of this comedic yet insightful poem. Here it is in it’s entirety. I hope you enjoy this poem as much as I do …..
A quick note for reading – the word satine is pronounced sateen, and rhymes with bombazine pronounced bombazeen, when said in a very Dublin accent. Bombazine was a silk and wool blend, and would have been considered far less “posh” than a silky, satin fabric.
If I Were A Lady
By Percy French
“If I were a lady I’d wear a hat,
That all the street would be lookin’ at.
I’d have a ladies maid, do ye mind,
Who’d button an’ fasten me dress behind.
A dress that was made o’ the finest satine,
…..None of yer bits of bombazine.
An’ the girls would envy and grind their teeth,
As they heard it rustlin’ underneath.
If I were a lady, but sure then I’m not,
These oul’ rags are the decentest rags I’ve got.
If I were a lady, I’d drive to the play
And I’d lift up me opera glasses and say …
“Oh, I’ve seen this silly review before,
The leading lady’s an awful bore,
Lets all get up when she starts her song,
And go and eat cakes in a restaurant.”
Then a powder puff on me nose I’d dab,
An’ drive off home in a taxi cab.
If I were a lady, but sure then I’m not,
For a ticket to the gallery is all I’ve got.
If I were a lady, a regular swell,
With a hairy boa and a silk umbrell,
‘Tis me that’d walk into the Shelbourne Hotel
And order me dinner, “Some pork an’ beans,
And whatever you’ve got in them soup tureens.
Both the sweets an’ a hunk of cheese,
Oh, an’ a bottle of porter please.”
Then I’d call for me bill, and settlin’ it,
I’d hand the waiter a thru’penny bit.
If I were a lady, but sure then I’m not,
My dinner comes out of the stirabout pot,
Still, there’s an awful lot of show an’ sham
Maybe I’m better off the way I am!”
And so again this year as I thought about the fine hats to be proudly worn at the races, I started to say to myself ….. “if I were a lady…..”
And then I kept going, and created a little verse in the same style as Percy French’s classic poem, which I dedicate to all the Kentucky Derby spectators who will end up watching this fabulous race from the comfort of their own couches tomorrow …..
If I were a lady I’d wear a hat,
That all the Derby’d be lookin’ at.
I’d sit in a box and review the crowd,
Sippin’ mint juleps and lookin’ so proud.
I’d study the form and wager me bet,
Pickin’ the horse we’ll never forget.
And all the girls would scream and shout,
As we passed around the big shareout.
Ah still, Derby tickets are like pure gold,
So it’s TV racin’ that I’ll behold.
Wishing everyone a great day at the races tomorrow. May the best horse win. And to all the ladies who will be sporting a masterpiece atop their head, I hope you’ll be wearing the hat that all the Derby’ll be lookin’ at.
Slán agus beannacht!
(Goodbye and blessings)
Irish American Mom
Here are some other ramblings and recipes about all things Irish and Irish American, which you might enjoy.
Ellis Island
Never Let The Truth Get In The Way Of A Good Story
Our Irish Heritage
Ah, “Darby Day,” as my grandmother called it. I’m not much of a fan of equines (I did read “Seabiscuit,” however), always felt secure when there was a good, strong fence between me and the quadrupeds. But that all changes when Triple Crown time of the year rolls around. My sis-in-law and I always bet on the three races…heavy wagers in the form of Snickers bars. I’m no judge of “horse flesh,” and during the parade to post, each of those glorious thoroughbreds, looks like a sure bet to wear the roses.
I look forward to those shined up ponies,”My Old Kentucky Home,”…and the hats…of course, the hats. Regarding the “Carmen Miranda” chapeaus, I can’t see them without thinking about “Bobby Burns'” poem “To a Louse.” Tomorrow I hope your pony takes the roses, IAM. I’ll be watching, too. TMJ
Hi T.M. – Thanks so much for reminding me of Bobby Burns poem “To A Louse.” I had forgotten about that one, and thoroughly enjoyed reading it again today. I love how he called the unsupecting louse, “ye crowlin ferlie”. In Ireland lice have a nickname of the Bidgie McGees. I think I’ll have to write a piece about the Bidgies someday. Thanks for the inspiration.
All the best, and I hope you got to see American Pharoh win today.
Mairéad
“Bidgie McGees,” eh? Oh, but don’t the Irish have a knack for naming things. We us call them “head lice.” I’ll look forward to your “lousy” post. Yes, I watched Amerian Pharoah take the roses. My pick, Upstart, was practically “Nostart, finished 3d from last…so much for rooting for the dark horse.
Re: dropping the “g” from present participles…is George W. Bush Irish?
And wasn’t it the lady in the hat who was “Unsuspecting?” The louse “unsuspected?” TMJ
T.M. – My horse “Carpe Diem” finished somewhere in the middle of the pack, just a few ahead of Upstart at the back of the pack.
Dropping the “g” from present participles is typical of how those with strong Dublin accents speak – perhaps George W. Bush has a little Dublin ancestry.
All the best,
Mairéad
The grandest of poetry, Mairead, lol!
You should get your hat ready for next year, and if you still don’t go to the race, wear it wherever you go. Even if it is just to the grocery store! Or just have a hat tea at your home for all your lady friends!
Hi Patricia – I’ll wear a fancy hat next year, even if I watch the race from the comfort of my own couch. My little girl will have such fun helping out.
All the best, and I hope you enjoyed the Run for the Roses this year.
Mairéad
Mairead, you’re brilliant! As an Irish-American and a card carrying Southerner, today’s post by you thrills me! And what, may I ask, is a thru’penny? I look to you!
Hi Claire – A thru’penny bit was an old three pence coin. In Ireland under British rule there were two hundred and forty pence in one pound sterling. Twelve pence made a shilling, and twenty shillings made a pound. A threepence bit, pronounced thrupp-nee bit in Ireland, was one eightieth of a pound sterling. It would have been close to half a day’s wages for a poor Irish woman in the late 1800’s.
Thanks again for checking out my ramblings.
Mairéad
My mum’s favourite poem, use to love to hear her recite it. She’s very ill right now. It brings back memories of better times.
Hi Martine – So sorry to hear your mum isn’t well, but glad to hear this poem kindled fond memories of good times together. I’ll say a prayer for your mum and for your family.
Blessings to all.
Mairéad