I need to start with some housekeeping. The Royal Agricultural Winter Fair goes by many names and I don’t think its hosts are happy about that (anymore). The language in the press coverage leading up to the fair has changed. The press will say something like: “The Royal Winter Fair, known to many as The Royal..“. The hope in wording it like that, I believe, by now calling it The Royal – is a more elegant sounding brand. The Royal does sound super posh—so I get it. But the press always betrays the campaign, they have to, they’re speaking to—and trying to inform the general public. They always mention that The Royal is actually The Royal Winter Fair – because that’s what everyone in Toronto calls it. Well that or The Fair, or The Winter Fair. So, out of respect, and because I love to try something new – I’ve entitled this post The Royal. Also, I don’t want the horse-people mad at me.
The Royal means different things to different people.For the farmers, showing and competing successfully can bring attention to your hard work and that can bring business opportunities to your farm. For the equestrian crowd – well, they love horses. There is a full schedule of jumping, performances, and competitions throughout the fair. The fair would probably not exist if not for those elements. For me though, it’s everything else. I love the vendors areas, the concessions, the petting zoo, the crafts, the live music shows – I love everything else. All of that, together with the agricultural and horse stuff – is woven together by the people.
This is a great event for people-watching—and it begins on the streetcar ride to the EX (Exhibition Place). I walked to Union Station to catch the 509 Harbourfront streetcar. The streetcar had three groups of horsey-girls on it; Alberta-type transplants. These girls are lovely; tall-ish and fit, well rested, clean-living country girls. All of them in new bluejeans and new, matching cowboy boots and hats. Real cowboy boots too, not low cut, or fashion boots. The hats are real too, a real working-style Stetson – except it’a new hat, very practical. The second distinct group was the retirees. There is a type of retiree that sold their Oakville home and moved downtown to a condo. These folks have social schedules that would bury most young people; they attend everything. Adorned in L.L.Bean and worn Rockports, the gents with silk scarves, the ladies in purple toques, or purple scarves, or purple something! – both with argyle socks.
The car pulls in to Exhibition Station and it’s a very-long walk to go around the building to the entrance. The area behind the buildings – the lane that faces the station, is a working area for the fair and there is a bustle of utility vehicles shuttling hay and manure back-and-forth with the accompanying smell. I have arrived.
The entrance is next to the horse arena and the people are distinct—and tend to stay in that area. Many of the distinguished horse-women are in the same uniform: a quilted Barbour coat, RM Williams boots and a new Cartier watch. Their husbands, clearly dressed by their wives, are in their regular every-day jeans (washed), and a new western shirt and boots. Hats and boots are always black, these men are very laid-back, they look like a bunch of friendly villains; I would love to drink gin with these guys. Everyone is mostly Town & Country vibes, very smart. Also, it’s Saturday.
Also present are the n95 couples. Always in thick, black plastic glasses, clinging to each other tightly. I’m constantly surprised to see these folks at the busiest, most tightly packed and attended events in the city. Places where you are not promised air, let alone clean air. The confidence they have in those masks is confusing to me.
I see a well-worn display case with dried corn cobs inside bearing ribbons and I decide to take my first picture of the day. As I’m looking through the viewfinder I become overwhelmed with emotion, I’m flashing back. I first came to the fair as a high schooler on a photography class trip. The reason photography is in my life is because of my high school photography teacher Mr. Ainslie. Every year we would take a bus from Nelson High School in Burlington and Mr. Ainslie would turn us loose inside. Armed with (2) rolls of black and white film, we would wonder up and down the stalls of animals looking for the perfect shot – but also mostly messing around and eating fries & gravy and drinking Cokes.
The Sprucewood Tack Shop in the vendors/market area is one of the largest stalls and it is the place to be. It’s an actual beehive of young bees, all polite and with braces; hyper-focused. The order of the day is a new riding helmet and a pair of “7s” – 7 For All Mankind jeans – a celebrity jean company from California worn by Prince Harry amongst others. [ instagram ]
Another standout is Luxy Charms. It’s a small corner booth selling small, cute, well-priced emoji-esque trinkets that can be worn or clipped to your phone/bag. Started by Harper, a 12 year old saving to buy her own horse – who struck oil instead. The little girls are gobbling these things up, bumping a squishing like coy fish scanning the display boards looking for something that appeals to them. Her proud mom helping customers and fielding questions from the likes of me – but like her friend, they’re mostly sitting back and watching this thing happen. Harper is effortlessly in her element, gracious and humble and professional; quietly driven. [ instagram ]
After talking to Harper’s mom it occurred to me that the show seems to be powered by young women; I’ve never noticed, or seen it this way. The world of horses in Ontario, as I see it, is a woman’s world; young women and their moms. The agriculture side is where you’ll find the men (mostly). Fathers and sons, uncles and grandpa and such.. raising and selling cattle and the likes. The work is divided equally between the men and the women, and there is plenty of work. There are few spheres in the city that have such clear gender lines. And, in places where women and men work together, women are often themselves trinkets – attached to the mens’ endeavour; I’m talking about you Finance. I’m speaking in generalities here, Toronto is home to some of Canada’s most powerful women. But the business spirit in the city is one of domination, who’s the top dog. The spirit clearly visible to me on this day – is one of sharing—and carrying your own.
This guy hosted the kids butter sculpting contest from Gay Lea Butter. Honestly, he needs a tv show—an absolute character, the kids and the crowd loved him. * The unsalted butter from Gay Lea is the best btw, it’s the only butter I buy. [ instagram ]
Work from artist Elise Genest. [ instagram ]
It should be no surprise that at a show full of hard working backs, there are many booths offering some relief – Latonya is ready to help you.
Fancy rabbit.
Harper from Luxy Charms. [ instagram ]
Cowboy Dave, artist. All of these antlers are naturally shed, not hunted (I had to promise to mention that). There is an industry of people who follow the antler-bearing animals as they migrate and mate, collecting the antlers they shed and selling them or artists like Dave.
Some of the leather saddles on display are works of exquisite craftsmanship. This is one of the finer examples, it’s made by a French company called ‘Butet’ – they’re handmade in Saumur, France.
Max is the rep/partner for Butet. He covers all of Ontario and Quebec, a territory too vast to comprehend, selling and servicing these handmade saddles and their other wares. [ instagram ]
I met Mark Spowart last year at The Royal, I was shooting with a Leica film camera and we got to talking. He’s a professional photographer who does horse work (jumping and shows), but also work for Getty and Canadian Press (and others). [ instagram ]
Hasta luego partner.
The End.
* You can find the author at [ instagram ]