Top 10 Things You’ll See at Foxfield
1. Lilly Pulitzer
No, it is not your Aristocrat-influenced eyes playing tricks on you — there really are six girls within a 10-foot radius wearing the same dress. Unlike at your high school prom, though, this is not a complete fashion disaster — instead, a Barbour-esque display of wardrobe choice. (Disclaimer: I own a Barbour. I’m also from New York, and thus have a cynical and hateful view of color.)
Another questionable and curiously common practice you’ll encounter is references to Lilly Pulitzer simply as “Lilly,” as if you’re on a first name basis. Is Lilly your lifelong best friend? Can you tell me the name of her dog?
2. Vineyard Vines
Thought the Lilly was bad? The male equivalent is just as pervasive. Vineyard Vines isn’t, in fact, a wine company. Rather, it is a clothing company defined by an anatomically unsound pink whale — the wardrobe embodiment of “fish are friends, not food.” That tiny pink whale is probably the most popular animal at Foxfield, closely followed by foxes and probably the horses after that. There are whale stickers, whale shoes, whale koozies, whale hats and guys wearing whale shorts of a questionable length. If I were a Vineyard Vines executive, I would consider shooting my advertisements here.
3. The nappers
For whatever reason, the grass at Foxfield is greener to some than beds, or other places to sleep. Maybe you’re just trying to get a little tan or are resting your feet because they hurt from standing. Or maybe you are really trying to let everything sink in. I get it — keeping up with the lifestyle at U.Va. can be physically/mentally/emotionally taxing. Get at least 10 hours of sleep the night before to prevent the impromptu ground-snooze. Or, consider taking it easy on the free refreshments. You won’t be able to press the snooze button on the friendly police officer who will most likely be the one waking you up from your nap.
4. Long lines
Thought the line to get into Trinity last weekend was long? Did you finally make it in, and then proceed to wonder why the line for the Trinity bathroom was so long? Take this exasperation and this seemingly endless stream of people and multiply by 12. The line to the potty, a necessary evil at Foxfield, will seem to start and never stop. Consider hopping in the bathroom line early on based on the premise you’ll have to relieve yourself at some point. By the time you finally get to the front, you’ll probably really need it anyway.
You probably read the word “chicken” and were confused. Isn’t Foxfield a horse race? In my experience, more people race to the endless trays of Cane’s and Chick-Fil-A chicken than watch actual horses racing. You’ll look just as cool carrying an open container of chicken as you will an open container of Natty, with the added insurance that an open container of chicken is totally legal. A plot without chicken is like graduation without the walking the Lawn — a sad shell of excitement marred by a lack of tradition.
Judging by the amount of mobile uploads the day after Foxfield last year, it seems a requisite tradition to take a picture with every single person you’ve ever met. That girl from your hall who you could’ve sworn moved out last semester? Say, “cheese!” That guy you accidentally ran into on your way to Two Guys Tacos as you were trying to pretend you hadn’t actually walked in there? Smile! Your calculus TA from first semester, first year whom you continue to inexplicably receive emails from? Perfect photo-op.
7. Police officers
One may say there are more policemen and women than there are horses at the races. One may also say the most entertaining races at Foxfield are not between horses, but between a cop and a student who has clearly “only had two beers.” That being said, enjoy responsibly. At the risk of sounding too preachy, I leave you with this: imagine the line you’ll have to stand in waiting to be bailed out of jail. I’d take a long line for the bathroom over that any day.
8. Pickup trucks
I don’t know what it is, but it seems like Foxfield is synonymous with the Pickup Truck Convention of America. Sure, they’re a pretty commonplace phenomenon around here, but it’s like someone decided Foxfield was the perfect place for every single truck in existence to congregate. Pulled up on a plot, the truck beds make the perfect place to: a) nap, b) stand on and seem really tall, c) do option “b” in the attempt to find your friends who all wandered away and are wearing the same thing as everyone else and oh my god who can tell hoo is hoo anymore?!
9. Country music
Often being blared out of the aforementioned pickup truck. There’s something about horses, open fields of grass and the entire southern population which just screams “Sweet Home Alabama.” Take the opportunity to sing at the top of your lungs — finals start next week, so the next time you’re shouting at full volume will probably be alone, surrounded by books and wrought with frustration over trying to balance studying for your six exams and finding the perfect Foxfield picture to Instagram.
Like the “s” at the end of Foxfield, the presence of horses is uncertain at best.