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In her old life, Camilla would arrive back home late, flushed and sweating from a day's hunting. Due at a supper party two villages away with old friends (PLUs she would have said they were, People Like Us), she would wipe herself down with a wet flannel, but not before first wiping her horse down with a handful of dry straw and feeding the dogs. Off with the jodhpurs, on with the party dress - the old steadfast from the boutique in Hungerford, with the hem half down - a flick of the mascara wand and off she went, trailing cigarette smoke and an old cashmere wrap.
I am not, by genealogy or nationality, a follower of the British royal family. The last monarch who mattered to Americans was George III, and God knows he made a mess of things. Nevertheless, I find myself hooked on the thoroughly un-fairy tale wedding of Charles and Camilla Parker Bowles scheduled for Saturday. I am not quite so besotted that I’m buying the coffee cup, suitable for microwaving, bearing the congratulatory message. But I do have my eye on the refrigerator magnet.
I owe my fanfare to the uncommon couple in large measure to the British press. These Brits, at their beastly best, managed to transform Camilla from the “other woman” to the “older woman.”
Yes, I know, many Diana lovers will never forgive Camilla for Charles’ affection. At the height of the annus horibilis she was the femina horibila. There are those who threw buns at her at a supermarket, and there are those who will picket at her wedding.
But when Charles allegedly got down on bended knee and proposed, the press description of his fiancée made Diana’s pet name for her – “the Rottweiler” – seem complimentary. Scrutinized from her hair to her teeth to her waistline to her wardrobe, she was declared “frumpy,” “dowdy,” and the “jellied eel” to Diana’s “lobster thermidor.”
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It was as if Charles had upset the natural order of things, whereby every Donald Trump must have his trophy wife. It was if the Prince Charming had chosen the ugly stepsister as his second wife. What woman of a certain age couldn’t side with the un-bowed and un-Botoxed object of his affection?
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But what makes me tip my republican – small r – hat to the couple anyway is their endurance. The real trophy here, if you will allow it, is tenacity in, um, love.
The Daily Star headlined its announcement, “Boring Old Gits to Wed.” An Australian writer said Charles and Camilla raised “the ewww factor. … It’s like catching your parents pashing.” What they forgot is the grit in the gits and the undeniable passion in the pashers.
In just the past few weeks, this couple has been subject to polls taken on whether they should marry or whether Camilla should be called queen. A bishop actually told Charles to make a public apology to Camilla’s husband.
I agree...aren't those hats a trip? That's one British tradition I'm glad we didn't bring with us to the colonies!Author: mightyred
I personally watched just to see the display of hats that always come out at British weddings. If I still lived in the UK my diamond fund would probably have gone to hats!