For all my inattention to the Royal Wedding yesterday (I glimpsed and of course found my favorite piece of anti-wedding paraphernalia I wished to buy but didn’t), perhaps the most telling moment of the morning was this: as I locked the straps in for my daughter’s carseat before she went off with her papa to do the seventh grade carpool adorned with beads and a headband (by 8:00 AM) I said something like, “Oh, Kate’s a Princess, now. Hi, Princess Saskia.” She looked at me quizzically.
My dear hubby chastised me: “I spent the morning ensuring her news blackout from the wedding and you mention it?”
I wouldn’t have propped her in front of the telly or anything. He knew that.
Yet, later, she asked me whether I knew how ballerinas walk. “I’ll show you,” she offered—and proceeded to tiptoe across the floor.
Inherent in my thinking my husband’s worry was a bit overblown was the knowledge that we wouldn’t have feared the pageantry had one of our sons been three at the time of such an Event. Inherent in his worry was her growing penchant for jewels and accessories and the reverence for pretty.
**
You could watch the goings on royal yesterday sincerely loving the dress and commenting on hats and generally ogling the spectacle. You could have been more ironic about your watching with the Guardian’s clever anything but the wedding blog.
You could have marveled at things that seem somewhat subversive, like the fact that Kate wasn’t of the “right” family, not exactly and there were Charles and Camilla, both divorced and remarried; you know, change, as in a loosening of strict conventions (and as one friend of mine noted she liked Kate for being not blond, not young, not a virgin—and a college graduate).
You could have been thinking about Kate’s history as a young girl, who was herself bullied—and cares about bullying prevention as an influential young adult (huzzah). I do think as far as a country’s luck with princesses has been checkered, Kate seems a good bet to do an exemplary job in the role.
You could have wondered whether all the folks who champion boys’ princess dreams were watching the Wedding, too. It’s impossible to imagine how—even with the irony and subversion and anti-bullying message one could justifiably discuss—that old picture’s worth a thousand words thing could do anything but prevail: Kate’s perfect bride image ruled the day, didn’t it, for princess dreaming boys and girls alike.
Because, really, is there anyone who’d want to be William?
