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Obviously, not everyone was as delighted with the recent royal wedding as I was, but there are still things that can get to this old dog!
About 4:30 on the morning of April 29th, 2011, I woke up and couldn't get back to sleep, so I thought I'd watch the royal wedding programs on TLC that I had set my TIVO to record just in case. The first one was the pre-wedding review, broadcast 100% from London. There were area shots of gazillions of exceptionally happy people, some obviously already well-lubricated, eagerly awaiting the royal going-on but on the whole being very civilized and British and stiff upper lip and all that. They were having fun, but in a dignified way - not like us at all!
I was greatly impressed with the ability of so many British commentators so enthusiastically to say so much about so little, except to point out repeatedly how ab-so-lute-ly ex-trord-inary everything was, especially the "fascinators" that some of the ladies were wearing in lieu of more traditional hats. (I miss ladies' hats, and the brits do them so well!) One of the lady commentators (commentatricies?) remarked that the ladies with the larger hats were walking as if they were balancing plates on their heads, which I noticed also. I greatly admired their ability to keep from poking other people in the eye with them, although I suspect that English people generally develop an ability to avoid hazards associated with female headgear in their formative years.
I was also edified by the diversity of what is, after all, a pretty homogeneous society. I believe every regiment-sized military unit has its distinctive uniform, and they were almost all represented, along with various clerical vestments and household/governmental functionary costumes. Some of the men wore tails and vests and cutaway morning coats and other traditional male attire that just goes to show that we men, too, can look good when we try. (I couldn't help thinking that the guys in kilts were probably "commando," though.) Every color, style, skirt length, and neckline were demonstrated by the ladies without a hint of the "why didn't she get one that fits?" or "oh, my gawd!" impression that American glitteratae seem to generate. There wasn't a single bra strap or pair of shower shoes in evidence anywhere, which just goes to show what kind of men Anglo-Saxon women can attract when they don't dress like out-of-work hookers.
Prince Harry's girlfriend, Chelsy Davy, wore an Alberta Ferretti off-the-shoulders outfit that didn't give the slightest hint of being about to fall off, and all the pregnant ladies wore ensembles that appeared to have been designed specifically and tastefully for mothers-to-be. The Queen arrived in a dress/coat combination obviously intended to accentuate her position as Royal Grandmother, rather than Her Majesty the Queen, although the canary yellow color allowed each and every camera instantly to pick her out of the crowd anywhere and also to frame a nice shot of her seated behind, but visible along with, the bride and groom.
Prince William was characteristically calm, cool, casual and chatty, every inch the Prince heir apparent, even if he was getting married that very morning. I was reminded how much he resembles his mother, including her little mannerisms. Harry, resplendent in what looked like tons of gold braid, looked slightly hung over and characteristically boyishly scruffy, as is his wont. He was the perfect Royal Little Brother, not unlike his great grandfather who became King George VI only when his great grand uncle, Edward VIII, abdicated to marry a divorced lady, Wallis Simpson. Perhaps Harry breathed a sigh of relief that it is now much less likely that this might happen to him.
Prince Philip, the Royal Husband and Grandfather, as usual only slightly betrayed his 90 years of age, most of it in devoted service to being a faithful companion to the great love of his life, the Queen. Also as usual, his gentlemanly presence did much to turn a wedding of the distant royals into a kind of intimate family celebration for all Britons, everywhere. The current activities of the British monarchy seem to unite Britons into an assembly of "We, the People," that we Americans never seem quite to have achieved. Compared to this level of national pageantry, even our Presidential inaugurations take on some of the characteristics of ragged peasants slogging through pig slop. Maybe we lost something in 1776!
After the first broadcast from London, the TLC coverage was invaded by a New York studio featuring a totally unnecessary discussion with a disorganized group that, for some reason, included Ivana Trump with her sock puppet face and Rupert Everett. He decided to appear in a program supposedly watched by 1/4 of the world's population unshaven and wearing a rumpled, open necked shirt. I thought it presumptuous of him to mention that he "hated" princess Beatrice's hat, He has a right to his opinion, of course, but I have to wonder if what somebody who dresses like a hobo on national TV thinks about fashion matters to anyone with an IQ marginally above that of a Big Mac.
Kate was a lovely bride, perhaps something that can be said about almost every bride, ever. I was struck by the fact that, as a commoner, she arrived at the wedding in a rented automobile, unlike her mother-in-law. As the daughter of Earl Spencer, William's mom Lady Diana apparently rated the royal coach transport, as did Princess Kate herself when she left the church. In my memory, the most candid moment of the whole ceremony was when she stepped out on the palace balcony to be applauded by the entire United Kingdom just before the royal kisses. She can clearly be seen to remark, "Oh, wow!"
I particularly enjoyed a pre-celebration interview with India Hicks, first cousin once removed to Prince William's paternal grandfather, and #521 in the line of succession to the throne, just ahead of the Duke of Edinburgh himself. I clearly remembered her as the totally dedicated 13 year old manager of Princess Diana's bridal gown train, and have often wondered what became of her. (She is a fashion model, designer, a mother of four children with David Flint Wood, and still unmarried.) Kate's train was short enough to be managed by her sister and maid of honor, Pippa, who also impressed me with the excellent way she handled the other four bridesmaids, including two three year olds who had to be a handful.
I didn't know who Pippa was, so, shortly after watching the wedding, I looked up "Pippa bridesmaid" in Wikipedia, to find that Pippa Middleton was the only sister of Catherine, Duchess of Cambridge, and bridesmaid at her wedding. I still didn't get it, so I clicked "Duchess of Cambridge," to find that the Duchess of Cambridge is the wife of HRH Prince William, Duke of Cambridge, second in line to the throne of England. Oh - that Duchess of Cambridge!
My memory of the wedding of Charles and Diana is of a royal circus and media celebration, staged as a political event by the palace, that ended so tragically for naive' Princess Diana. I guess what triggered my emotional reaction this time was that, for all its pomp and ceremony, THIS wedding, although of similar vintage, was mostly about two young people in love getting married to each other. Maybe there's hope for the human race after all.
"May Almighty God, the Father of Our Lord Jesus Christ, pour upon them the riches of His grace, sanctify and bless them, that they may please Him in body and soul, and live in holy love..." (Prayer of the Archbishop of Canterbury)
"Then God said: 'Let us make man in our image, after our likeness. Let them have dominion over the fish of the sea, the birds of the air, and the cattle, and over all the wild animals and all the creatures that crawl on the ground.' So God created man in his image; in the divine image he created him; male and female..." (Genesis 1:26-27)