0
0
As the world breathes a collective sigh of
relief, Charles and Camilla are
enjoying their honeymoon in Scotland. They should be
on their knees thanking
the good God in Heaven that this wedding happened. I know I
was sweating it
out. Everything was going along swimmingly until Pope John Paul II
passed
away, God bless him. And I knew-I KNEW-this would throw a wrench into the
works. And of course it did, when the Pope’s funeral was scheduled for Charles
and Camilla’s wedding day. Of all the rotten luck. And if you think I was
conflicted, imagine all the dignitaries and how they felt! Do they go to the
funeral of a world leader, or the wedding of two adulterers? Hmmm. What to
do?
What to do? Well, Charles and Camilla fixed this by postponing the wedding
until the
next day, but I had the day off on Friday and was ready to plant
myself in front of
the TV and inhale every detail of the royal wedding-and then
they had to reschedule
it for Saturday. What nerve. I work on Saturdays. You
can imagine my
disappointment. In a panic, I sent an email out to my co-workers, asking if any of them
could find it in their hearts to tape the
wedding for me, but no one did. What a
surprise. Anyway, my sister taped it,
so you don’t have to worry, and I was
fortunate enough to catch a replay on the
BBC the next morning.
Camilla, Duchess of Cornwall-I hope this means she’ll no longer be referred to
as “Mrs. Parker Bowles.” I will admit that the woman never looked better and
it
seems she lost a bit of weight. I want to know who her makeup artist was.
I thought
the wedding frocks were lovely, but what was with the hats?
Camilla’s wedding hat
(the one she wore to the civil ceremony) brought to mind
a time my family and I were
at the Miami Seaquarium when a pelican flew into a
tree and got stuck in the branches
– legs and wings akimbo and feathers
everywhere – evoking peals of laughter from my
kids. Camilla’s wedding hat
looked like a lamp shade that something flew into and
got stuck, much like the
pelican at the Seaquarium. And accessories are everything.
As part of her
wedding ensemble that she wore for an entire 15-minute registry
ceremony,
Camilla carried a leather clutch containing a matching coin purse and a
leather-
covered mirror. Now, the mirror I could understand – quick touch-ups and
such – but
why in the world would the woman need coins, much less a coin purse? To
feed
the meter where the vintage Rolls Royce Phantom V was parked? I think
not.
Camilla looked a little nervous, which I suppose was understandable
under the
circumstances. After all, it was her first major appearance as a Royal.
If
you watched the wedding and you watched closely, then you may have noticed how,
when Charles and Camilla were leaving the town hall, Charles turned to wave to
the onlookers and then turned to Camilla. I figured he must have told her to
wave too, and when she awkwardly lifted her hand to wave, she hit her hat – and
then, like a deer caught in the headlights, she didn’t know what to
do.
If Camilla was nervous at the civil ceremony, she must have been a
basket case
at the blessing with the Queen sitting not four feet away. You could see
the
Queen through the grass – I mean feathers – on Camilla’s head. Maybe it’s my
own misperception, but the Queen didn’t seem like she was enjoying herself. I
know it was a solemn ceremony, but she didn’t crack a smile. I know I’d be
intimidated. I wonder if the Queen was making some sort of silent statement by
wearing the black gloves and black shoes and carrying the black handbag. There
was something ominous about her choice of accessories, if you ask me. Like the
proverbial doom cloud.
And Charles – you think he’d know what he was
doing, having been through this
before, but it seemed as though he had to look at
Camilla before making a
move; stand, kneel, whatever – he looked through rheumy eyes
to her for guidance.
And did you notice how Camilla gently and reassuringly patted
Charles’ hand
when the rings were being blessed?
And the headpiece
Camilla wore at the blessing? What was that? It was described as
gold feathers
tipped with crystals, but you could have fooled me. I thought it
looked like Camilla
ran through a wheat field and the wheat got stuck in her
coiffure. I understand that
hats are popular amongst the British aristocracy,
but my word. The milliners must
have made a fortune on this to-do by the looks
of that mob.
We
weren’t privy to a peek at the party, but every description of the reception
used
the word “lavish.” Now, I don’t run in the same social circles as the
Queen, who
hosted the two-hour soirée, but the guests were served sandwiches
and scones. What
the heck is lavish about that, besides the fact that the
finger foods were served in
a castle? I don’t think the Queen was going to
shell out any more than she had to
for this affair. Two hours. Finger food.
That’s it. She’s
done.
But the tackiest thing I ever saw (besides Zara Phillips’ dress)
was the royals
and other honored guests pulling up to the Guildhall in minibuses.
There must
have been some extra Rolls Royces and Jags around the castles that could
have
been used to cart the gang across the street, no? But instead they hired
minibuses. (The press used the term “coaches,” but if it quacks like a duck…)
I couldn’t believe it when William and Harry and the rest of the crew alighted
from the short bus like kids on a field trip. I know they wanted low-key, but
really.
Now it’s all over, and I feel a little let down, like a kid
at Christmas. You
wait and wait in eager anticipation and then it’s over.
And
now Camilla, Duchess of Cornwall, Princess of Wales, etc., etc., is the
second
highest-ranking female Royal (after the Queen herself) and even the Queen’s daughter
Anne, the
Princess Royal, has to curtsy to her.
When donkeys fly.
