What is it about the British monarchy that fascinates Americans like me? Is it because our very existence as a country is tied to throwing off the shackles of royal “tyranny?” Professor Arianne Chernock has her theories in this video. Frankly, I think it may be the tea and crumpets? Fish and chips? Delicious ales? Or scones? Ah, scones. I would hurt a bitch for scones of any flavor, man. But, I digress…
Prince Charles married Lady Diana Spencer in 1981. Along with millions of my fellow Royal Watchers, or people simply looking for good news that day, I was captivated by the pomp, circumstance and opulence of the event. However, I took an instant dislike to Diana’s voluminous gown. Even though it reflected the style of the early 1980s, and was the height of couture designed by David and Elizabeth Emanuel, I thought it looked like bed sheets. Dingy bed sheets. So dingy that I remember thinking, “My Barbies would never wear that hideous, dirty dress.” This may have been the moment where my inner fashion critic was born.
I grew up in Latin America where we would periodically receive news of the Spanish monarchy and other European royal families, but I was only interested in The Queen and her family. I was, after all, one-eighth to one-sixth English, and damned proud it. This compelled me to devour information about the births of William and Harry, the wedding of Sarah Ferguson to Prince Andrew and the births of Princesses Beatrice and Eugenie (two names that guaranteed they were teased on the playgrounds) and watching Zara Phillips compete on the Olympic Equestrian Team. Ah, the glittery, glamorous life of the British monarchy. Sigh.
Then, the wheels started to come off the bus. The monarchy lost popularity, marriages broke up, a castle was destroyed by fire and Princess Diana passed away. The Royal Family opened their, previously private, homes (castles) to the public to pay its taxes and debts. They started to resemble commoners and were seen as an unnecessary “burden” to many British people. Suddenly, my dream of wearing a crown was tarnished, but I still held hope that someone would bring sparkle back to those beautiful tiaras.
As William and Harry grew into handsome young men, and went off to college, my hopes were resurrected. William began dating a brunette beauty and Harry, my tasty ginger snap, found blonde strumpets…I mean young “ladies” to entertain. Alas, neither made commitments to the women with whom they were linked.
Until one happy day, when the lovely Catherine Middleton was proposed to on an African camping trip, by none other than Wills! I would have a chance at another Royal Wedding….er…a chance to watch another Royal Wedding!
Again, my dear Royal Watcher friends from around the globe, and I gathered together to see the official engagement, and the beautiful wedding that launched Pippa Middleton’s arse into tabloids around the world. Fat-bottomed girls, like me, loved that moment! Although, Pippa’s junk trunk is a Smarte Car, at best. It is not even large enough to be a Mini Cooper trunk. (Sorry luv.)
Today, we gather again, on Royal Baby Watch! Some people will say hateful things and question the significance or continued need for the monarchy. They may go elsewhere and spew. This post is about sending warm wishes to a young couple about to have their first child, regardless of their heritage. It surrounds a woman giving birth for the first time with love, light, healing energy and hopes for a speedy labor and uneventful delivery. Above all, I send Kate and William my wishes for a healthy, happy baby.
I cross my fingers and hope for a Baby Girl. Because, c’mon people….tiny tiara?! That shit is royal cuteness. Sign. Me. Up.