The realm is aflutter
The country is all aflutter. Royals in the territory, and all that. Newspapers, TV, people on the street (not all of them, but one or two); ready to trade any semblance of sanity for a chance to see, to glimpse. Enough to drive the rest of us to distraction.
Maybe I should start putting my relatives on pedestals. Go about, telling anyone within earshot that my family is special. After all, it’s worked for the monarchy. People to high place born. No need to accomplish anything, unless that “hand wave” counts. Oh, and smiles… no laughter.
I took a few moments to look up the current leader of the pack, in images spanning a half century or more. The coins of the realm do not lie. She looks like that (frozen in profile).
Appears that the most recently married among them is going to be here, later this week. I have to work, so I won’t need to excuse my reluctance to stand among the crowds of gawkers. And since the gawkers have a lock on the trade, I won’t even have to watch the media coverage (over and over and over).
For the record, their clothing is (more) important than just about anything else.
“…chose a simple body-con navy sheath (Roland Mouret?) over which she wears the navy one-button blazer from the Smythe spring collection. The jacket is simply and immaculately tailored, with peak lapels and just a single brass button closure and pocket detail, but with an unexpected twist: at the back instead of venting, there’s a cutaway detail. She accessorizes with the glossy mane (natch), Manolos and the brand-new Polly Push by British accessory darling Mulberry.” (National Post)
You can’t make this kind of stuff up.
