A timeless jacket

MY first pony, Dazzle, was offered as a raffle prize, but when the winner didn’t want him, my great-aunt and uncle generously acquired him for me, though he was not a success. The pony pictured is my 14hh Sovereign, a Welsh cob/Arab who had an incredibly big jump.

I have many happy memories of a childhood riding: taking part in the Pony Club week, when we had lessons in which we had to ride a mile or two to a level field and then a gymkhana at the end. We used hard canvas girths, followed by nylon string girths, later to be followed by the padded girths. We also had heavy canvas New Zealand rugs which went as stiff as a board when wet; the neckline was lined with simulated sheepskin to stop it rubbing. For indoors, there were jute rugs with woollen linings which were impossible to wash. And woollen rugs and bandages for travelling with gamgee underneath.

I remember the disappointment of going to a posh saddlers in Chester in 1979 and trying on a beautifully cut black Melton cloth showing jacket to be told it was over our budget at £32 – and then the joy of being able to have it when the saddler said we could buy it for £28. I still have it today, it still fits and the quality fabric looks like new.

I also recall heavyweight rubberised cotton riding macs with a belt round the middle, and my first pair of elephant-eared jodhpurs in Bedford cord. However, I mainly rode in jeans and jodhpurs or Wellington boots; riding clothes were for special occasions.

And I remember Dad telling me our vet had told him about some brothers near Huddersfield who were winning everything at the local gymkhanas. I have been watching them ever since – they were the Whitakers.