I like the Royals.
There, I’ve said it, I may be a proud part Scot who plans on hightailing it up there should we get independence, and I may have me own tartan, but I quite like the Royals.
They are kind of like my generation’s posh Jeremy Kyle show guests. A Royal version full of illicit shagging, inbreeding and Horses. Not only that but they have amazing houses, clothes and holidays and my whole upbringing as a kid was surrounded by Princess Diana and my Nan telling me that if I truly believed, one day I could marry Prince William and wear a nice crown.
That so didn’t happen (I’m quite pleased as, although my Elder is 14 years older than William, at least he has all his own hair still on top of his non-ginger head).
I do like Princess Catherine though, the local girl from my adopted neighbourhood and her High Street style loveliness. I want her flicky hair. I have a girl crush on her wardrobe. Mini likes her too.
I feel for her though. She may be surrounded by wealth and privilege, but she’s definitely a bird in a gilded cage.
From not being able to get her bangers out on the beach, to the whole nation going doolally-frantic about the finer details of her being pregnant from the word go, surely it’s only a matter of time before Grazia has a spread on Lady Garden fashions to copy Kate into birth?
That’s the thing. As a woman who has given birth the cheats way twice, I can vouch for the fact that it gets rather busy “down there”, with anyone with a white coat and stethoscope libel to want to get their hand personally acquainted with your nether regions.
After having babies its all I can do when I go to the GP to not go in, whip off my kecks and jump, legs akimbo on the examination couch. And that’s including when I take Littlest for asthma clinic. They do like having a good root around, in the manner of Elder in his coat pockets when he can’t find his car keys.
However, blushes from us plebs aside, Kate has that plus a metaphorical long range camera lens pointing upskirt too.
First it was “Bump Gate”. The Mail (spits on the floor) ran a whole article on how other women who happened to also be six months pregnant had massive bumps- but Kate did not. What on earth were they trying to suggest? Its the Royals, they may be weird but baby faking is just the wrong side of a screwy ‘Enders plot for even them.
Then it was what will she wear? Where will she give birth? What is she having? Did she slip up and tell someone it was a boy or a girl? Will it be Princess of Cambridge and where will it be on the succession line?
Christ, when I was pregnant with Mini, all I wanted to do by 8 months was to sleep without cramps crippling me to the point I wanted to saw my own legs off below the knee, eat jelly beans, and sit in the bath for three hours at a time.
the last thing she needs is the nation and the paps peering with untold excitement, on a 24 hour watch akin to Bill Oddie and his Springwatch webcams.
She’s a having a baby. Yes it’s nice that she will soon give birth, but you kind of already know that, the second the baby has left the woman’s body, the tabloids will become obsessed about how quickly she snaps back into shape, is she breastfeeding and how soon will she jet off sans bundle of Royal no doubt Ginger joy?
I’ve had babies, its not always fun, you sweat buckets, nothing fits, your boobs leak at inopportune moments and if Wills is anything like Elder your partner decides to make “waddling” noises behind you as you walk down the street with your ankles swelling like a sponge in a swimming pool.
Leave the poor woman alone!
Go pick on that daft Kardashian woman- she deserves it for that appalling name she chose.
I like the Royals.