Well, we can’t let the girls have all the fun, right?
Fug File: The Royal Wedding
Well, there’s absolutely no doubt that this PICTURE is adorable:
How cute are those kids? The one is all, “oooh, pretty castle,” and the other is all, “FLOWER WREATH!” There’s likewise no doubt that Pippa was an excellent Tiny Attendant Wrangler, and there’s only slightly less doubt that Prince Harry looked at her and thought, “DAMN. I might break me off a piece of that later today.”
And that therefore leads us to our question: is this too sexy for a wedding, especially a Royal one? Is it too bridal? Is it too white? Is it just TOO TOO?
At the time of the writing of this slideshow, my face looked much like Princess Anne’s. Maybe she was photographed here just after realizing that the Greek monarch is wearing a too-similar dress to QEII’s. Or maybe nobody told her there was a wedding and she was like, “WHA-AAAAT?”
Bless these two. They showed up early, and they went big and didn’t have to go home: fabulous hat? Check. Medal? Check. Good hair? Check. Cleaned up Becks? CHECKITY CHECK CHECK. Let’s take a closer look.
WELL. WE HAVE BEEN UP LATE. Have you checked out our wedding live-blog? I’m pretty sure it devolved into full-on crazy at some point, although I assure you it could have been yet crazier. Read it if you want to revisit/relive/live for the first time all the Royal Wedding Shenanigans — and rest assured, we’ll be all over that subject all day here, and then some. But first! A CONTEST.
THE SUBJECT: Princesses Beatrice and Eugenie, the off-spring of Fergie (the Duchess, not the Pea) and Prince Andrew and their BATSHIT CRAY-CRAY HATS. Bless them.
THE SITUATION: Um, I guess there was this wedding today.
THE TASK: Please write a haiku devoted to the lovely princesses and their lovely, lovely, wacky, cracky hats.
THE RULES: All entries must be posted in the comments of this post by 9 p.m. Pacific time on Sunday.
THE PRIZE: We are thrilled to announce that we have three copies of Wendy McClure’s fabulous book, The Wilder Life: My Adventures in the Lost World of Little House on the Prairie for each of the three finalists. Did you spend your girlhood reading about Laura Ingalls Wilder and imagining what it would be like to, say, churn your own butter/have locusts attack your favorite outfit? (I still fret about locusts eating my clothes. Don’t you remember that scene? They ATE THE STRIPES OFF LAURA’S DRESS. THE HORROR) If so, I think this book will particularly speak to you. If you think I am crazy and have no idea what I’m even talking about, you REALLY need to read Wendy’s book and get with the program — it’s seriously great. And I’m sure Kate Middleton would ALSO enjoy it, should she need honeymoon reading material (see, bringing it all around to the topic of the day! Circle of life! Etc)! So get cracking!
As I write, I have not yet slept, but I don’t think my judgment is impaired: Kate Middleton — who will, for better or worse, always be Kate Middleton to me — looked utterly, utterly stunning. I can’t imagine a higher-pressure situation, and she responded gracefully and with tremendous poise and dignity, and she smartly went with simplicity and classicism over the meringue and the sparkle and the ornate detail we remember from Diana and Fergie’s weddings: The dress was a streamlined, modern take on Princess Grace’s iconic gown, beautiful on its own, uncomplicated but not boring, and on her it truly made Kate the jewel.
Do you want to split some hairs, now that I’ve gone all gushy? Okay: The bouquet was an afterthought that could’ve, nay should’ve, been a little livelier (although all will pale in comparison to Lady Di’s cascade). The makeup was a bit more noticeable than it might’ve been. And she looked tired. Do you think she slept at all, or do you think she lay awake all night rehearsing the schedule in her mind and wondering whether she needed to set YET ANOTHER iPhone alarm or if she remembered the right bra or whether she has an eye-pencil sharpener or what she should eat for breakfast that she wouldn’t barf up on the way to the Abbey? I hope she ordered tea and a chocolate croissant and then took a Xanax. Because, Catherine, Duchess of Cambridge, you’d better get a good night’s sleep while you can: pregnancy rumors inevitably will start post-Honeymoon.