Saturday, April 30, 2011

love can get tacky

This blog is for my boss, Diane, who found out a few months ago about my site and now really enjoys my blog and spams everyone in her life with it [Tangent: This is including, but not limited to her eye doctor, her teenage daughters and all the ladies in HR (yikes!)]. In our team meeting yesterday, she covered the very insurance-related topic of how I should cover some aspect of the royal wedding in my blog- the motion seconded by my British manger, in his best Union Jack shirt for casual Friday.  The idea had to grow on me- I mean, I think I have heard every possible aspect of everything Will and Kate, and am a bit fatigued by all of it. We all know I love a good spectacle, but seriously folks it's only a day later and my royal wedding fever is starting to cool.

Unlike most girls in my age bracket, I never really pined away for Wills.  Along with Leonardo Dicaprio,  the future king warmed the 90's teenage pedestal of lust that the Twilight monsters hold today, but if I recall correctly I never quite took the bait of the princess fantasy. [Tangent: Unless it was Princess Jasmine, because I would have loved to inhabit her satin shoes given my childhood crush on Aladdin. (Don't judge, he was a hot cartoon, and I am a sucker or a big nose.) Alas, I am not Arab and think harem pants look silly out of context.]  The royal lifestyle was not really part of my "when I grow up..." storyline. It seemed like a lot of etiquette and conditions, and frankly,  the act of being a lady is not my forte- so I took my hat out of the running. [Tangent: This is not to say I never had impure thoughts about a prince, because once Prince Harry became legal- BOOM! GAME ON!  I mean Prince Harry's a great catch: a hot ginger with that relaxed pothead appeal. Plus, his love of an inappropriate costume only makes him more a catch, by Kimmie standards at least. ]

As I watched the DVR'd footage of Kate stepping out of the car, I could practically hear the factories cranking out the shoddily sweat-shopped together versions of her gorgeous handmade Sarah Burton dress. That hurt my heart - Can't something iconic and gorgeous be just that? Instead it must be mass produced to delude middle America into living out some weird princess fantasy. It seems the people that buy these dresses are the same types of people that likely bought these heirlooms of people they don't know to commemorate events they were not a part of:

Welcome to the club, Kate Middleton ring and dress. You are joining the ranks of the Titanic necklace and the ill-fated J. Lo engagement ring-  brilliant accessories to a sad existence.  I'll be seeing you on the clearance rack at David's Bridal and the busted ring basket at Claire's come year's end. If not, I will eat my awkward wedding bonnet!
her hat looks like a uterus.


  1. I always liked Harry. He's a bad ass ginger, just like Conan.

  2. The downside to a royal wedding, having to find a bunch of random kids to deck out in sailor suits [looking at you, Sarah Ferguson!]


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