I spoke to my Nanna at the weekend.
After filling me in on the latest gossip at her Barbershop group (The Harton Harmonisers, I kid you not) she asked me whether I was looking forward to the wedding.
After a long and bewildering conversation, ("I just can't wait to see him in his suit, such a handsome young man") and then (" What do you mean you're going, have you been invited through work?")* it became clear that we were talking about different weddings.
I presumed she was talking about this wedding. Not unreasonable when you think she's actually met the bride in question.
She however meant the OTHER wedding. You know THAT one.
I find this really weird. I have been trying, in as much as it's possible, to avoid the impending nuptials of Wills and Kate ("doesn't she seem like such a nice girl") Middleton.
Firstly there's this 'nice' business. Why does being thin and pretty automatically make you a pleasant person? If the perpetually glossy Kate was dumpy and plain would people be as kind? I doubt it.
Then there's the clothes. Even the royal loving red tops are struggling to stay suitably sycophantic. Let's face it, the woman is a sartorial disaster zone.
I know it must be difficult to live in a saintly mother in law's shadow. But if you do insist on wearing clothes the most sloaney of rangers would have avoided what do you expect?
I don't get it. When you think about the wardrobes our future princess has access to, she rocks up wearing outfits like this.
But mostly? It's the ugly reflection that glares back from the mirror that is this national circus. We might appear to embrace the idea of modern woman, but as soon as something like this comes along, you see behind the curtain. Common opinion seems to agree: Catherine Middleton epitomises all of the qualities that make up the perfect woman. Obedient, submissive, thin, shiny and content to play second fiddle to her husband. She'll smile and never make a fuss and we'll all congratulate her on being a model wife, the perfect princess.
I don't know about you, but that doesn't strike me as something I feel like celebrating.
*my Nan thinks that by living in London and working in the impossibly glamourous world of direct marketing that I mingle with royals on a day to day basis. Well... Prince Edward at the least.