Pat a pig, milk a cow, buy a showbag. There’s no business like show business

Telling anyone you’re off to the Melbourne Royal Show is akin to saying you like Simply Red or those spearmint leaf lollies. People are surprised or suspicious. They rewind your words and tone for irony. They wonder if you need a tiny lie down. They just don’t get it.

For decades, I didn’t either. Cranking out grazing platters in a beachside Victorian joint, I was a show snob. The show was for bogans. Awash with depressing giant teddies and Britney Spears “Curious” perfume, it wasn’t for me and my kids in their Osh Kosh b’Gosh overalls from Daimaru.

I wasn’t much of a show…

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Written by Bourbiza Mohamed

I have 26 years of experience as a professional writer and editor and have been working as a full time freelancer since 2011. I am originally from Casablanca, Morocco, and I graduated from Qatar University with a degree in journalism. I have worked for newspapers, magazines, news agencies, websites. I speak fluent Arabic, French, English, Russian and Spanish.

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