It’s that time of year again and I am sitting in front of the telly watching proceedings at the Dome in Tralee. Yes it’s the Jubilee Rose of Tralee and there is a fan fare of lovely girls on the stage. They are intelligient, bright, high achievers with great careers and personalities and yet here they are giggling for Ray, going goodo on their tin whistles, doing jigs, reels and bad renditions of Enya. Yet somehow, the whole cringy combination works- the tawdry tent, the Garda band, the neanderthal escorts, the 1970s style sponsorship stings.
The Rose seems to be a beauty pageant that is going from strength to stength. Is it the roots of 75 million Irish diaspora abroad keeping the spirit alive? Is it because it’s the only time in a calendar year we have a real celebration of Irish female beauty, strength of character and independence? Is it because it’s so refreshing to see young women genuinely having the crack together rather than killing eachother to be crowned? Or, is it because the Irish girl in me secretly always wanted to be a Rose? Maybe I’m getting older, maybe I’m getting all nostalgic because I will never be a Rose now, or maybe I have had one too many glasses of Lidl pinot grigio. Who knows, but as I sit here waiting for the winner to be announced it feels like I have found an old pair of once favourite shoes which have just come back in fashion. And the winner is the London Rose, you beauty.
All the lovely girls indeed. Newbridge cutlery certainly does get its profile but would you wear it. Time for a new sponsor I think or at least time for Newbridge to create something that actually looks like jewellry. Get with the programme people. Young girls want to look good as opposed to looking like a dinner setting.
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