For me, there is nothing more fun that getting all dolled up and drinking a glass of bubbly next to a cow.

Let’s rewind a couple weeks back to when I was traipsing through aisles of prize cattle, dodging cow pies and scattered hay in my Michael Kors stilettos trying to track down my cousin, her dairy farmer husband, and their prize cow Lady.

Amidst the juxtaposition of high class meets down home – I had to to steer my date away from the temptation of fudge stalls, cowboy boots, handmade woolly mittens, and at one point, saving him from buying unnecessary items of clothing in Scottish tartan (he’s Portuguese).

Yes, it was Royal Winter Fair time again, and somewhere between the Antique spoons and the Butter sculptures I re-fell in love with everything country.

This year, instead of donning my cowboy boots and Wrangler jeans with the rest of the city-people-trying-to-look-like-country-folk crowd, I opted for the Royal Experience—a more upscale affair aimed at the younger generation of fair-goers. We wore our finest gowns and tuxedos, sipped champagne in the President’s Lounge, watched the Horse Show from box seats, and then partied the evening away in the luxurious Tanbark Nightclub. Oh, and took home Givenchy and Dior-filled gift bags!

Watching an international show jumping competition in your fanciest clothes is definitely something not to be missed. It was reminiscent of the UK’s Royal Ascot, where classy is the theme and hats and hair pieces are not optional, but necessary. Every close call and near-knocking over of the rails drew oohs and aahs from the crowd – who knew show jumping could be so intense?

In the Tanbark Nightclub, Handsome Argentinean riders in their jodphurs (aka sexy man-tights) and show coats mingled with fashionable Toronto socialites, while the cocktails and chocolate sandwiches (yes!) circulated around the room. Celebrity show jumpers like Eric Lamaze and Ian Miller could very well have been on lounging on the couch next to me. As one young lady recounted to me afterward, “three international jumpers were fighting over who got to buy me a drink. It was quite possibly the best moment of my life so far.”

Next door at the Hitching Ring, a bar quite literally next to the practice ring, us young Royalers in our fancy dress mixed with the real cowboys in their checkered shirts and downed shots of Jager together. The country mice side by side with the city mice made for a wild raucous party. Definitely not to be missed next year.

The Royal Experience: all I can say is, holy cow.