Straight Sheepskin Skirt with Asymmetric Slit — Dark Horse

Jupe midi droite en cuir de mouton avec fente asymétrique devant et fermeture éclair invisible. En Dark Horse, Bay Grace & Palomino.

The racecourse lived, as always, in its own unique, matchless rhythm.
Here, amidst the weathered wooden grandstands and precisely leveled racetracks, the air carried the scent of sun-warmed leather, fresh grass, and that subtle, pure excitement that made the crowd freeze in anticipation of the race.

Only a few minutes remained before the main start.
Spectators strolled lazily along the stewards' lounge — some deeply buried in their race programs, others talking quietly by the barrier.
Sunlight pierced through the light midday haze, making the metal hardware of the harness on the ring gleam brightly.

He stood by the outer rail of the paddock — the restricted technical area where the horses were brought out before the start and where unauthorized entry was strictly forbidden.
His professional gaze was fixed on the favorite of the day — a magnificent black filly.
Her well-groomed coat shone with a deep, liquid graphite luster, shifting under the midday sun.
A true dark horse, wild and powerful.

But just as the beautiful mare tossed her head anxiously, a woman stepped out from behind the head trainer.

He frowned, vainly trying to find her name in his flawless memory.
He was seeing her for the very first time.

She approached the horse with the calm of an owner, wearing a structured, straight skirt made of jet-black genuine leather that fit perfectly into the aesthetic of the paddock.
The rectangular leather panels were devoid of a single hint of affectation, drawing a clean, geometric silhouette, while a slit concealed in the left side seam gently parted, freeing her gait and making the step of her right foot more expressive.
The skirt captured the sunlight in the exact same way as the sleek flank of the racehorse.
In that moment, they seemed as one.

Confidently and gently, she placed her hand on the powerful neck of her friend, whispering something softly.
And the wild favorite, who just a second ago wouldn't let the grooms near her, suddenly went still, trustingly reaching out to her palm.

He watched the scene, holding his breath, while a single, maddening question pulsed in his mind:

"Who on earth is she?..."