Saturday, April 30, 2011

I want a tiara

Let's just be completely honest right here, right now, and let the truth hang out in all it's glory. I am not a glamour puss. Nor a yummy mummy. I wear unironed clothes; leave the house every morning with wet hair; never wear makeup unless it's a VERY special occasion or I am looking so scary small children cower from me and cry. I get my hair coloured twice a year, if I'm lucky; shave my legs if the razor in the shower is still relatively sharp; and have left nail polish on so long that it took an industrial grinder to get it off. I am so low-maintenance, it's ridiculous - I think I should coin a new term for myself, perhaps 'subterranean-maintenance'?? What do you think?

So what's my point? Why am I stating something that my IRL friends already know?

I want to be a princess for a day. No, wait - a month.

As a four year old, I was permitted to stay up late to watch Lady Diana Spencer marry Prince Charles. From the moment she magically became Princess Diana, I wanted to be a princess. I was obsessed with Diana, and who wouldn't be? We all know how gorgeous she was. I loved her until the day she died. I love her still.

Last night, most people I know crowded around their tellys to watch Miss Kate Middleton marry Prince William, to become Catherine, Duchess of Cambridge. I allowed Jack and Phoebe to stay up to watch the wedding. Jack was interested, as a five year old boy might be. Phoebe was enchanted. (It would seem her new life's ambition is to be a "cage girl" - that would be, in fact, a flower girl. Miffy, you have been warned.)

Quite apart from Kate's breathtaking beauty and exquisite bridal gown, I was awestruck by how genuinely in love they appeared to be. It made me happy to see them enjoying their wedding day, regardless of the fact they had both wanted a small, quiet, country wedding and instead ended up at Westminster Abbey with two billion voyeurs...*ahem*...I mean, well-wishers.

Just like my four year old self, I adored the pomp, the tradition, the horses, the pageboys, the Abbey...even the ye olde old-fashioned language of the marriage ceremony. Loved. It. I could have sat all night, just drinking it all in (and did, in fact, record it on the hard disk drive....)

I wondered what it would be like to be Kate. How incredible it would be to have her life. And I thought to myself, I'd like that for me. If I were a princess (or a duchess, if we're to be completely accurate) for one month...oh! The possibilities.

I would have gorgeous clothes to wear, which would be laundered by someone else. I would have magnificent meals, whatever I desired, made by someone else. I would travel to new and interesting places, organised by someone else. I would live in various castles and manor houses, cleaned and prepared by, you guessed it - someone else. I could sleep (in a bed which I did not have to strip and put clean sheets on, nor would I need to launder said sheets, nor would I need to make the bed...ever!) for as long as I liked, uninterrupted, except by my personal trainer whom I would engage to keep me looking at my public-appearance-best. I would not do grocery shopping, scoop up dog poo from the garden, have to reprimand builders or bank managers or Telstra. I could have a manicure, a pedicure and a blow wave every day (oh! oh!)

And after a month of princessing it up, I would be happy to pack my Louis Vuitton luggage, and go home.

Why?

Because at home, I am my own person. I may not have any time to myself at present, but I have a whole lot of time with the people I love. I can choose what to do with my days, as long as it suits my little family. I can see the friends I choose, wear the clothes I like (if they are comfortable, or shabby, or stained - which they generally are, it matters not), potter around the house with the kids without the world falling down around my ears. I have a life of duty to my family - not the entire Commonwealth. So although I may not have the clothes, or the money, or the glamour that Kate has (and most certainly not the figure, nor the skin, nor the composure), there are freedoms that I have that now, she never will. I think she is marvellous, choosing a life of duty in the spotlight with the man she loves. It is certainly not a life I would choose for myself.

But just for one month, I could handle it. As long as the Palace people let me sleep for most of it.

6 comments:

Anonymous said...

I'd love one night in a princess bed if it means a full night's sleep and a hot cup of tea in the morning!
Visiting from The Fibro. :)

Diminishing Lucy said...

I was convinced that I would marry Prince Andrew. I didn't, obviously.

BUT, in all seriosuness, I try and be a little princesslike. Clean sheets, shaved legs, pedicures and hair appointment.

Princess pampering is good for my soul...xx

Cheers! said...

I am a princess at heart. In my head I walk around with all the grace and dignity and perfectly put together outfits of the British royalty. In my reality I am a little more like Cinderella. It's hard to keep that crown on straight while bending over the mop bucket, folding laundry and sitting for hours in a carpool line. ;)

Happy Day!

I'm So Fancy said...

it's not all it's cracked up to be, you know. Tiara's pinch your head. ;-) Better off with your less tangible blessings. x

Unknown said...

being a princess for a month would be nice. :)

*New Follower*

Glow said...

I'd skip the title and the castle just for a sleep in.