Royals are my kind of gossip

The royals are always in the news and I am always a fan. I am one of those odd American ducks who eats up photos and speculation about the British monarchy’s goings-on. As usual, the queen is not pleased about Prince William’s girlfriend. (For a queen, that woman really doesn’t seem to have enough to keep her busy.) For me, it all began back in the ‘70s, when I had quite the crush on Prince Charles.
That’s right … ears and all, I found him ruggedly handsome, well-spoken and — oh my, oh my — he occasionally wore a kilt. Oh, and he was a prince. But I am a sucker for a man in a kilt.
If Charles had made the least effort, he could have married me, a slightly older, but much wiser sort, rather than the beautiful, very young Diana. Nevermind that I am way too Irish and a commoner. He dilly-dallied so long, I married someone else. I held to the belief for some time, though, that I would have been a better choice for him. I got over it when I realized I would have had to be demure, always polite and think before I spoke. All the charm schools and disapproving queen mothers in the world couldn’t have accomplished that.
Instead, my husband and I thoroughly enjoyed having our engagement and wedding at the same time as Charles and Diana. It was quite fun to hang on their coattails and follow their wedding plans as I made my own. Mine were just the tiniest bit less ambitious, but I would have loved to book St. Paul’s Cathedral. Now that’s a church. Heck, I would have been a full week ahead of Charles and Di. All the rice and flower petals could easily have been cleaned up by then. And I swear, if I had asked, my dad would have tried to make it happen.
Meanwhile, the news now usually surrounds those adorable princes, William and Harry. They certainly got the best twist of the DNA in that gene pool. Every woman between the ages of 8 and 40 are very likely in love with one or both, and who can blame them? William, it appears, has won back Kate Middleton after their breakup in 2007 and they are back under the yoke of the hard-to-please grandmother/queen. Kate is a beauty, so if William does marry her, the paparazzi can rejoice at the guarantee of gorgeous offspring for several generations to come. Still, I do not envy the future princess for a nanosecond. Wills would have to be a perfect 10 in every sport for a woman to sign on for that kind of scrutiny and rule book.
Will he ever propose? Will she accept? Will she get a full-time job to please the queen? Will she smack the queen? Heck, who needs “Housewives?”

Jean Gillette is a freelance writer who is frequently seen at the supermarket en dishabille, where she is really glad absolutely no one wants a photo. Contact her at


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