Along with last week being my birthday, it was also the week of the Royal Wedding. I say week, I mean it didn’t take them a week to GET married but still the impact lasted at least that, if not longer. Ok definitely longer.
Beforehand I hadn’t really been that bothered by all of the Royal Wedding stuff, I mean I like Kate and William (not that I know them personally or anything) but I certainly wasn’t overly excited at the prospect of watching them head to the altar. A few weeks before I had agreed to watch it with my Mum but even then I had said, I only really want to see the dress, I’m not bothered about the build up or the actual ceremony (yes shallow I know). I am not entirely sure what happened to me but the whole not really arsed thing, yeah that didn’t happen. At all.
I was 5 years old when Charles married Diana. I can remember my brother and I drawing pictures of the happy couple and sending them to Buckingham Palace, probably like every other child did in the country. Amazingly we got a thank you letter back! How cool is that? From Buckingham Palace no less! Apart from that my memories of their wedding are limited to the following – Diana had a huge puffy dress and a princess crown (I don’t think I knew the word tiara at 5). The big puffy dress was very creased when she got out of the carriage. The dress designer has very wild hair. They got married in St Pauls. I love St Pauls; it’s a landmark in London. They kissed on the balcony. She became a Princess. My Mum had a photo book of their wedding and I used to love looking at the pictures again and again. Like a fairytale princess. I wonder if she still has that book. Might need to have a little browse.
I think every little girl wants to be a Princess. Every big girl too to be honest; to a certain extent at least. As a child I would spend hours playing with my Barbie and Cindy. My favourite toy (apart from Play Doh – still LOVE Play Doh, especially the barber shop – it’s the hair – it really grows!) was my Cindy house. I would always have either Cindy or Barbie marry my brothers action man, who was a Prince. Obviously. I don’t think Princes should have gammy rubber hands like that though. If at all possible that is, and don’t even get me started on the eyes. But still needs must and I didn’t have a Ken (and when I was young Cindy had curves and came wearing a pink tutu and minus significant other).
So as I grew up I watched as everyone else did when Charles and Diana announced the birth of both of their sons. I watched the wedding of Fergie and Prince Andrew - there was no dress creasage then and Prince William was a page boy in a sailor suit. Hello and OK weren’t about in those days (or if it was my Mum never got it), so you would generally buy books or newspapers would have special supplements. I actually used a photo of one of Fergie’s bridesmaids for my GCSE art project (yes my Mum had that book too). I wouldn’t consider myself a Royalist at all but I think, like many others I found them quite interesting.
I think the death of Diana changed that. I remember that day very clearly. I lived in Manchester with Claire as my flat mate at the time. We had left Uni that summer and had been out that Saturday night with our friend Mark, who was ‘borrowing’ our sofa for a few nights. We had just got in and we put the radio on to hear that Dodi had been killed in a car accident and Diana was also in the car. At this time news 24 didn’t exist. They would interrupt TV programming with a news flash to broadcast any major news(remember we only had 5 channels in those days). We turned on BBC1 and sure enough they had turned to the news. We all watched for hours, they just played pictures of the tunnel where it happened, recounted what they thought were the sequence of events again and again. And then they announced that Diana too had been killed. It was incredibly shocking news. We watched stunned until it got light and then the next day, and the next week, we watched every piece of news going, the Queens speech and then the funeral. Its always very sad when someone dies before there time but in this case, it was those two young boys who made it all the more heart breaking. Of course after this they were given far more privacy but still the image of them walking behind Diana in the funeral procession is a reminder of the fact that she may have been a Princess but first and foremost she was a Mum. Since then I think I have always felt protective of those two boys. I am sure many others felt the same.
And so came last week. I was still thinking ‘yeah I just want to see the dress’ on about Tuesday. I mean I was off work all week but I was more concerned with getting my back right again than the Royal Wedding. I think perhaps the first sign of the change was Wednesday. My Mum kindly offered to drive me to the Chiropractor and afterwards took me to the garden centre as she wanted to get some stuff. This is just what you want when you have had your back manipulated by a superhuman. Yep to look at bedding plants was top of my list. BUT. There was a big but here. When we got there they had a big royal wedding display, all Union Jacks and that malarkey. And right down at the bottom of the display there was a Union Jack dog doorstop. I was drawn to him. It was like a calling. An impulse. I knew I had to have him. My Mum, and the shop assistant thought I had lost it (especially as he was on the floor and I couldn’t bend down to pick him up so had to get my Mum to do that part). At this point I should have known I was weakening but no. I just thought oh its just one purchase and it’s a useful one, I mean he’s a doorstop after all (and very cool obviously).
So the day before the wedding was when the real change occurred. I happened to flick on ‘This Morning’ and they were having a garden party and ALL they talked about was the wedding. I learnt several interesting and highly useful facts like. 1. There were no toilets at Westminster Abbey 2. The guests had to arrive around 8.30am (ok I don’t know about you but points 1 and 2 and the thought of a cold church immediately made me need the toilet). 3. The dress had to have sleeves (dress code at Westminster Abbey). 4. Kate (sorry Catherine) was doing her own make up. Imagine that. By this time I was googling the order of events and timings (BBC website was excellent for this) and watching excitedly as Kate arrived at her hotel for her last night of freedom. On Twitter it was also getting more intense, one of the girls was posting pictures of the Abbey as they got it ready for the morning, others were talking about what they were going to wear to watch it (its very important to be well dressed at all times people). We were all getting excited. I can remember tweeting @Vicky1978 and her saying it felt just like Christmas Eve and it did!! (minus the pressies and the Turkey).
On the day, just like Christmas, of course I woke up early and immediately put the TV on. Of course the main decision here was to decide which channel. Believe me it was a hard decision. I started with Daybreak and then when that finished I moved to BBC, as per Twitter advice and also I didn’t want any of it to be disturbed by Bowel Control adverts (I watch breakfast TV, there are normally a lot of those first thing, those and pain relief - not exactly what that says about the normal audience but as that includes me I shall leave it there). It was all very exciting. Of course the hardest part was deciding when to shower so I didn’t miss the arrival of David Beckham (thankfully timing was spot on here). I also had to drive to my Mum’s and decided it was probably better to wait until William arrived at the Abbey before I did this (according to the BBC this gave me about 20 minutes before Charles and Camilla left).
I made it by the skin of my teeth. Even my Dad was watching. It transpired he had also been watching since about 8.30. So when I arrived we discussed the Beckham’s attire (my Mum and Dad liked, I was unsure on colour) and then dissected the clothing of the Royals. Just before Kate left the hotel my Mum needed the toilet and she attempted to ‘live pause’ the TV. This was immediately followed by audible protests from both me and my Dad! Who says men weren’t bothered? In the end she gave up and just agreed to be quick. Thank god. We didn’t want to be 3 minutes behind the rest of the nation. It just wouldn’t be right. I had opted to record the highlights rather than the whole wedding after all.
The Wedding was beautiful. Her dress was stunning. She looked so elegant. Amazing. Every inch the Princess. Her sister Pippa, far too beautiful to be a bridesmaid. Immaculate. Those handsome boys in Uniform. The cute bridesmaids. This kiss on the balcony. The best part though, by far for me at least, was that they looked so happy and in love throughout. Personally had 2 billion people been watching me I would have been cacking it. And that’s putting it put it politely. But it was lovely how relaxed they looked and that they were enjoying it so much. And of course that William had married someone he really did love. It made all of us big girls, who were once little girls, feel that whoosh of excitement again. The whole little Princess fantasy getting swept away by her handsome Prince, in a carriage no less (well and an Aston Martin). London looked amazing that day. Everyone was happy. The UK celebrated. They even made the London eye red, white and blue. It was all just bloody lovely and made me very proud to be British. It also made me want Harry to hurry up and get married so we could do it all again.
Since then I think I may have become slightly obsessed. I say slightly, maybe I should just say obsessed. I have bought the OK! Bumper wedding special (parts 1 and 2 obvs), Hello, Grazia, Heat, I even have the News of the World supplement AND I even asked my friend in America to get me Time Magazine Wedding special. Oh yes I have. My little Royal wedding doorstop has now been named ‘Wills’ and has remained in pride of place in the Living room.
How long will it last? Who knows. But for now I am going to keep enjoying it and dreaming of being a Princess.
Now where is that OK! Magazine….
Ciao Princes and Princesses x
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