The UnreMarkleable Duchess

Guys, it happened. It was inevitable, I suppose. But it wasn’t pleasant. In fact, it was so upsetting that I had to hibernate for the last few months. Let me set the stage for you: a prince, in line for the British throne, desperately wants to marry his divorced, American lover. His family is wary of the union, but this headstrong prince will not be dissuaded. He marries his lady friend - and the monarchy is forever changed because of it. Sound familiar? It should. But not, perhaps, for the reasons you think.

No, this is not the “fairytale” love story of Harry, the SGP, and Meghan Markle, his vainglorious wife; no, it is in fact the story of Prince Edward, who would spend less than a year as King Edward VIII before abdicating in order to marry his divorced, American mistress, Wallis Simpson (who may or may not have had the same level of affection for her new hubby). This was not a popular union; she was divorced – and American – after all, and he had to make a choice. It was, of course, a different time. But it’s ironic that, had he not been forced to make such a choice, the royal family as we know it would likely not exist. King George VI, Queen Elizabeth’s dad and Edward’s brother, would not have become king and Queen Elizabeth and her spawn descendants would likely be but a footnote in history. But, as it happened, King Edward did have to make a choice. And he chose love. Whether he came to regret that choice is a story for another day.

Wallis and Eddie
This is truly one of the only photos I could find where they're smiling.  

The point is, the very reason Prince Harry is in a position for anyone to even care who he married, i.e., the reason he is famous  – and likely the only reason this Meghan Markle person is interested in him at all – is because of the luxurious lifestyle bestowed upon him as a direct result of the fact that his great uncle found himself in almost the exact same situation, but with fewer options. Prince Harry is living the life of luxury, one of the world’s most eligible bachelors (until recently, of course), because his great uncle, Prince Edward, didn’t have the luxury of choosing both love and country. He had to pick a side. He chose love. And because he made that choice, Harry’s grandmother ultimately became queen and Harry, by extension, one of the most privileged and sought-after men in the world. Ironic, no?

Now, when I first started writing this blog, the unfortunate Harreghan union was still but a rumor. But, alas, no more. Yes, in case you haven’t heard, the Not-So-Amazing Ms. Markle became the Duchess of Sussex (or Sucksass if you’re super immature. Which I’m obviously not) in May. I used to really like that month. Now I associate it with broken dreams and tears. Yes, my friends, May 19, 2018 is a day that will live in infamy – not only because it’s the day I received my law degree (I can do cool things too, Meghan), but also because it is the day that the actress-turned-royal-girlfriend officially became the UnreMarkleable Duchess. 

The thing about royal weddings – much like royal babies – is that there’s so much build-up, so much anticipation, that it’s nearly impossible for them not to disappoint. And this wedding, like so many before it, was no different. Disappoint it did (I say, having watched not a minute of it). But, though I may not have seen any of the wedding itself, I did see plenty of pictures of the bride and groom. Harry looked like, well, pretty much any other groom in a uniform – not too disappointing because, let’s be honest, no one cared what he looked like. What everyone was dying to see was how Meghan, the new royal fashionista, would style herself for what was arguably the biggest day of her life. And, well, I’m not entirely sure what happened. I liked her dress, but why didn’t she bother to do her hair? It looked like she’d just stepped out of a wind tunnel or a lengthy ride in a convertible. I know her in-laws are all about the environment, but surely they would have allowed her the luxury of some hairspray on this, the most important day of Meghan’s – nay, the world’s – life. Barring that, couldn’t someone have slipped her a bobby pin or two? I mean, she had to know all eyes were going to be on her, right? So why did she show up looking like Bella Swan?

  Maybe Meghan was going for the Mr.-Tumnus-slash-I'm-about-to-marry-a-vampire look  

We may never know the answer to the above; what we do know, however, is that Harry wasn’t put off by Meghan’s poor hair choices for even a second. In fact, it may very well have been her decision to eschew all ozone-destroying beauty products that really got him in the baby-making mood. Or maybe he’s a 30-something-year-old man who’s always in the mood. Whatever the reason, it took about six minutes for Meghan to get pregnant.

Again I say, marrying into the royal family must make you the luckiest girl in the world – not only because you are forever rewarded for being lazy, but also because, despite being way on the wrong side of 30 (which I can say because I am too), having zero body fat, and living under the constant stress of knowing that procreating is your only real job (which I imagine makes it harder to perform – like when you’re told to pee in a cup), these two duchesses still managed to get pregnant immediately, as if on command. How does that work exactly? Of all the millions of women across the world who struggle with infertility, William and Harry were somehow able to find two that just snapped their fingers (that’s how babies are made, right?) and *poof* pregnant. I thought Kate was an outlier, the luckiest woman alive, but apparently she’s not so special after all (which, hello, is what ATG has been trying to say for years).

Here's another wedding photo. I know you just can't get enough of them.

So, that pretty much wraps this post up. I mean, what else is there to say? Harry picked a girl, who has, surprisingly, more family drama than his own (who knew that was possible), married her, and is now having babies with her. The end.

Just kidding.

How could that be the end?? There’s still so much more to say, so many more brilliant points to make, so much more judgment to spew. So buckle up.

This could take a while.

Brilliant Point #1: The UnreMarkleable Duchess is trying way too hard – proving that, although she may be an actress, she’s not a very good one.

Stay with me here. I’m not talking about her “work” on the USA show Suits. I never saw it. And to be fair, I spent the first half of my life trying to figure out how I could make a career out of playing dress-up and make-believe (heck, I’m still wondering), so who am I to judge anyone for this particular life choice? No, I’m talking about her fake, fake public persona. She just reads completely inauthentic to me. She’s always smiling like a bloody idiot while simultaneously breaking all kinds of royal protocol - by insisting on hugging every person she comes across - and sending her security detail into conniptions (on the inside; obviously the Brits don’t show external emotion). 

This poor child doesn't know what to do. Clearly even she can tell 

that this is conduct unbecoming to a duchess.

Some say Meghan behaves like this because she’s just so authentic, such a lover of people (unless you happen to be her assistant), and that she just can’t help it. Remember how William and Kate were purportedly changing the face of the monarchy? Meghan’s going them one better and changing not only the monarchy’s face, but also its behavior. Except, hold on a second, didn’t Princess Diana already do this? Only so much better? At least she managed to look authentic (probably because she was). Meanwhile, Meghan just looks so. fake. Please, girl, you’re no Diana. You’re not even a Fergie. This calculated effort to be likeable, relatable, and, let’s be honest, palatable is a major fail, fail, and fail. Time to go back to rehearsal; apparently you weren’t ready to take this show on the road.

But the inauthenticity doesn’t stop there. Oh no. Now, my friends, now, the UnreMarkleable Duchess has somehow managed to acquire an English accent after living in England for approximately 7.3 seconds. Apparently she thinks she’s Madonna. I’m not even kidding (about the accent; I don’t know if she thinks she’s Madonna). If you don’t believe me, please just watch this. (No need to read the article, just click on the video.) I've waited in line at the DMV for longer than she's lived in England and, yet, she already has an English accent. Except obviously she doesn’t really have a English accent. Without significant brain trauma, no one develops an accent in 7.3 seconds. Unless, of course, it’s totally bogus and – say it with me – completely inauthentic. I wish you could all see my face right now. My eyes have rolled so far back in my head that I can’t even see the screen as I type. But it’s not my fault. I have a severe allergy to fake accents. I blame Gwyneth.

And, if you watched the video, maybe you can answer this for me: How did this self-described feminist suddenly become a bashful, bootleg version of Kate Middleton, she who has never been known for being particularly independent in thought or deed? I mean, it’s well-documented that Kate spent many years chasing William – both literally and figuratively – waiting for him to decide if he wanted to marry her. This is the woman Meghan chooses to emulate? What would Gloria Steinem say? 

Look, all I’m saying is that I have a very hard time reconciling this new meek, mild Meghan with the person she portrayed herself to be pre-Harry. It’s hard to believe that everything about her changed when Harry met Meghan; that all her years-held ideals went flying out the window and she suddenly became a Disney princess wannabe, only becoming her true self once she was finally rescued by a handsome prince. (I, on the other hand, completely buy into this Disney princess version of life.) It’s much easier to imagine that this new Meghan is a direct result of the years she spent honing her craft. I mean, even terrible actors know how to mold themselves into certain roles, including the role of a British royal. The problem is that, unlike good actors, who make it all look so believable, bad actors end up looking insincere and inauthentic – with dopy smiles and unfortunate accents.

And, on the topic of Meghan being a less-authentic – or, to be honest, successful – version of Kate (and you know I hate to defend the Deficient Duchess), we have now reached the portion of the program we like to call Meghan the Mimic. Here is some photographic evidence of Meghan trying (and failing?) to be just like Kate, because, as they say, a picture is worth a thousand words.

I must warn you, though, it’s starting to get a little Single White Female in the Palace of Buckingham.

Meghan the Mimic

Exhibit A: The way she waves.

Exhibit B: The way she holds her clutch. (The fact that she even carries a clutch is a bit strange considering her previous affinity for cross-body bags – which would obviously make those ill-advised hugs so much easier.)

Exhibit C: The way she's constantly playing with her hair.

 

Exhibit D: The way she decided to have a baby three seconds after Kate had a baby. Just kidding. She had to do that one. It’s her job. Her only job.

Here's Kate with baby #3, Prince Louis of Cambridge.

Here's Meghan gestating baby #1.

I know it's hard to see but I have it on good authority that it's happening.

Brilliant Point #2: The UnreMarkleable Duchess is a bit of an attention, um, seeker, shall we say?

Poor dear. She's clearly terribly uncomfortable in the spotlight.

Meghan sure does seem to be basking in all this attention and I, for one, find it a bit off-putting – not because I wouldn’t do the exact same thing, but because I’m here to judge others. (Hypocrisy is not a word that exists in my universe.) On the one hand, it makes a bit of sense, I suppose. She is an actress, after all. Unlike Kate, who seemed a bit uncomfortable with all the attention – despite having spent seven years being chased by the paparazzi – Meghan has spent her life in front of the camera. And after all, actors are conditioned to garner attention. Without it, their careers crash and burn. They pretend they don’t like it, but you don’t become an actor if you want to avoid attention. If you want to be constantly ignored, you become Charlie Sheen’s PR person; you don’t move to Hollywood with stars in your eyes. And you definitely don’t marry the world’s most eligible – and famous – bachelor.

That said, attention-seekers, while annoying, aren’t bad people; they’re just insecure. What does seem to be a fineable offense, however, is Meghan’s propensity to overshare – at least by royal standards. She married into a family that values discretion (read: secrecy) so much that they don’t even release their children’s names until days – sometimes weeks – after the birth, but, as a royal girlfriend, Meghan did a Vanity Fair article – which, let’s be honest, she was only offered because she was dating Prince Harry (I mean, c’mon, the title was Wild About Harry) – in which she talked extensively about her relationship. Not a huge deal if you’re an actor dating another actor. But when you’re involved with someone from a tight-lipped family, it’s a bit more problematic. Or was expected to be. Yet, Queen Elizabeth still signed off on this marriage. Prince Edward must be rolling. You know what this says to me? This dear lady is tired. Very, very tired. These a-holes have worn her out. She’s a classy broad who has had to deal with scandal after scandal after scandal, starting with her very own sister. She doesn’t want to do it anymore. If this American actress, who gives in-depth interviews about her life with Harry and relishes the spotlight, is what the SGP wants, then that is what he shall have. For better or worse.

Be careful what you wish for, Harry.

Now, one might argue that Meghan had to give the interview – as an actress it was part of her job – except the article had nothing to do with acting. Not to mention that no one cared to interview her before she was dating the SGP. And you want to know why? Because she was a supporting actress on a cable show. A cable show. It wasn’t even network. No must see TV here. She’s certainly no Angelina Jolie. No one cares what life on the set of Suits was like. They want to know what life on the arm of the SGP is like. And Meghan is happy to dish – as long as she remains firmly in the spotlight.

Brilliant Point #3: The UnreMarkleable Duchess is super clingy.

Listen, I too am clingy. I can admit it. But, as they tell me at my meetings, there’s a time and place for everything. And I would imagine that royal engagements are neither the time nor the place for such things. This seems to be proven by how senior royals have conducted themselves in public for generations. Even William and Kate, who are obviously fond of each other, seem to understand this, leaving the PDAs to a protective arm around the back or understated handhold. But not Meghan and Harry. Oh, no. They don’t care about tradition – or being understated. They refuse to be separated. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but they are always touching. Like, always. They’re like Siamese twins, connected at the hand. (I don’t actually think that’s a thing.) Maybe they’re trying to give the Travoltas a run for their money. In the beginning, it was kind of cute. Now it’s just annoying. We get it. You’re married. And you’re super into each other. And you belong to each other. The world knows all this. No need to cling to each other like Howie Mandell clings to hand sanitizer. 

Sometimes I come up with these ideas in my head and then have a hard time finding photographic evidence of what I know to be true. This was not one of those times. It’s actually kind of remarkable how many photos there are of these two engaged in extensive clinginess

In fairness, Harry has always appeared more affectionate than William, but still. He’s been able to keep his hands to himself in public. Meghan, on the other hand, not so much. On the one hand, I get it. He’s the SGP. I’m not sure I could keep my hands to myself either. On the other, you’re a royal now. Get it together. I mean, I’m no body-language expert, but if I were going to pretend that I was, I might say that, in the beginning at least, her body language looked very proprietary – like she was afraid someone would steal him away if she didn’t lay claim. And again I say, we all know he belongs to you. No need to mark your territory by leaving fingernail gashes along his biceps. For his part, he certainly seems to be in love, but also somewhat uncomfortable with her demonstrativeness. Makes total sense, I suppose, considering the stoic people he comes from.

Here's the UnreMarkleable Duchess with her new, semi-stoic family, celebrating Prince Charles's 70th birthday. Is it just me or do her eyes look a little creepy? 

Listen, I don’t mean to rain on the newlyweds’ parade. I get it. They are clearly in love. May we all be so lucky as to find someone who can provide us with this same amount of love, happiness and tiaras – all while completely transforming who we are at our very core. What the future holds for this newly minted duke and duchess, only time will tell. But they remind me a bit of Prince Andrew and Fergie: hot and heavy in the beginning and fizzled out by year 10. The good news for Meghan is, if they do in fact follow the path of the Yorksters, they will remain “best friends” for years to come, have a couple of forgotten but overall well-mannered children, and, eventually, Meghan will find herself with both a lucrative book deal and a fairly well-received, though short-lived, relationship with Weight Watchers.

Silver linings, Meghan. Silver linings. 

Ribs, Tires and…Babies?

Proving yet again that her uterus is the only part of her that actually does any work, the Deficient Duchess is once again the Vomity Duchess. That is, she’s pregnant.

And vomity.

It was precisely her tossing of the cookies (that she never eats) that prompted the palace to make an announcement that a) yes, Kate is in fact gestating a spare for the heir and 2) she probably isn’t going to be able to keep any of her upcoming engagements – including her “much-anticipated” solo trip to Malta – because she’s, yet again, suffering from debilitating morning sickness. Poor dear.

    When it comes to another royal baby, George and I are obviously of a similar mindset.     

There are several schools of thought on why the pregnancy announcement was made before Kate hit the all-important 12-week mark. One is that Her Pukiness didn’t feel like fulfilling any more work obligations this year, so she got the ultimate doctor’s note to excuse her absence. (I may be the only pupil at this school, but I still think it’s totally valid). A second thought is that, as Scotland prepares to vote on whether or not they’re still interested in being United with the Kingdom, news of a baby is bound to sway them to vote yes. Who doesn’t love a royal baby? They’re magical. Like unicorns.

And yet a third theory is that, as the SGP prepares to celebrate the big 3-0, Kate was thrown into a jealous rage at the thought of not being the center of attention for even one second.  Her rage was made even worse when news broke that, upon his 30^th birthday, Sweet Ginger and his brother would be inheriting their beloved mother’s wedding dress.

With the advent of the Katenia era has come less and less mention of the late princess. Still, Diana remains popular among the masses; she is “the people’s princess,” after all. Positively tying oneself to her memory is never a bad thing, and this is exactly what Kate did when she agreed to wear the sapphire monstrosity that had once adorned the blessed hand of her late mother-in-law. And the ring’s done well for Kate. It certainly garnered her a lot of attention – at least in the beginning. But you know what’s bound to get even more attention? Diana’s wedding dress. It’s bigger. It’s fluffier. And it’s, arguably, more famous. But wedding-dress attention does Middleton no good. She didn’t design it. She didn’t bedazzle it. And she certainly didn’t wear it. So how can she possibly squeeze her admittedly very tiny self into this situation? Unfortunately for her, it seems that she can’t.

And this is a problem.

There is only one thing that could overshadow the sentiment (and gaudyliciousness) of the duchess’s ring - and, therefore, the duchess - and that is the pearl-encrusted fluff that is Diana’s wedding dress. (Does anyone else start craving marshmallows while viewing Charles and Diana’s wedding? No? Just me?) Listen, I get it. It was the 80’s. I’m an 80’s baby. I dressed myself – incredibly badly – in the 80’s. There are photographs that I wish would take a long walk off a short pier. It wasn’t an attractive decade. It was totally rad, but it wasn’t attractive. Point is, I understand the 80’s effect. That said, this wedding dress has a whole lot going on. Diana practically got lost in all the poof and circumstance.

Is anyone else reminded of a Puffalump upon viewing this picture?
Maybe it was the inspiration behind them.

Until recently, the dress has stayed safely out of the duchess’s orbit - never threatening to overshadow her greatness – by being tucked away at the Spencer family home, leaving only to embark on its periodic tours of the world. Incidentally (as my grandma would say), the fact that this dress has been on world tours in an official capacity means that this inanimate object has pretty much worked as hard as the duchess. Maybe harder.  

But I digress…

Diana’s will decreed that when the clock strikes midnight on September 15^th (SGP’s 30^th birthday), ownership of her wedding dress be transferred to her boys. This means that the hibernating memory of the princess will be front and center yet again. Or would have been. Except now all anyone can talk about is another royal baby. Genius, no?

As for the dress, the hope is that the boys will allow it to stay at its home at Althorp, where Diana devotees can continue to feast upon its awesome 80’s-ness. And, based on no factual evidence at all, I would assume that William and Harry will do exactly that. After all, aside from the obvious sentimentality, I can’t imagine why the boys would want to have it in their physical possession at all times. For one, it would be a logistical nightmare. I mean, where are they going to store it? I don’t think the whole of Kensington Palace is large enough to house such a big-boned garment. And it’s not like it can be repurposed and worn again (although I’m sure her bridesmaid’s dresses could be; all bridesmaid’s dresses can be).

On the other hand, maybe they will decide to keep it in their home, and draw up some shared custody-type agreement. Heck, maybe they’ll even decide that it can be worn again. In fact, maybe that’s precisely what the boys have in mind.

I wonder if Harry’s going to request that his bride wear his mom’s wedding dress in much the same way that Will requested that Kate wear the ring.

If that’s the case, then yikes.

You know how much I love me some Harry, but that Norman Bates-type request might be a deal breaker even for me.

Maybe.

On the other hand, I do look good in fluff.

A Royal Coo-up

My oh my oh my.

Life is getting tough for the Kate Middleton, the Deficient Duchess.

If there is one thing good ol' Waity is good at it's shopping and wearing clothes.  I mean, people, she literally exists to waste away so she can wear clothes better than they look on coat hangers.

Until this week that is.  In a surprising fashion coup, Prince George, Cementer of Marriages, has snatched the title of Best Dressed Royal from his mother, Lady Worhtless, Royal Brusher of the Tresses.

But really, could you deny this face?  More importantly, could you deny this face his inheritance?

Mummy!  Your skirt has blown up round your ears again!

I wonder what Waity's strategy for reclaiming the title of Best Dressed Royal will be?  The way I see it, we're either in for a year of tasteful dresses with weighted hems (I'm talking hems stuffed with rocks) or a year full of this:

Bum-tastic!

Me?  I'm torn.  On one hand, I don't think I can take another "Skirt-gate" media frenzy.  On the other hand, I'd love dear old Queen Lizzie to lay the royal smack down.

A Royal Case of Baby Fever

I can admit it. He’s cute. Really cute. His parents may be in the top 5 most overrated people on the planet, but their baby is kind of adorable.

I’m sure you can guess who I’m talking about: Prince George of Cambridge, son of the delightfully dull Duke and Duchess of Cambridge (aka Kate and William Middleton). You’ve probably seen pictures from his christening, which occurred in late October, but in case you’re the one person in the world who hasn’t yet seen the little guy, feast your eyes on this:

Other Prince George-related items of note:

• His parents, who are just like you and me, bought their boy a baby carriage that cost over $2,000. I mean, don’t we all? And let’s be clear: This is not a stroller. He can’t grow into it. They won’t be using it for years to come. The life expectancy on this pram is another couple of months and then it’s retired. But, then, what do they care? It’s not their money.
  
  
  Perhaps you can’t be bothered to bargain shop when you’re so very busy “changing the face of the monarchy” by pretending to be down-to-earth.

• At the private tea held at Clarence House after the christening, guests were served slices of cake cut from a tier of William and Kate’s wedding cake. Incidentally, another slice of their wedding cake was just in the news after having been smuggled out of their wedding reception in 2011 and recently sold at a Beverly Hills auction for OVER $4,000. What? Maybe it was Wills and Kate who were behind the whole thing. Perhaps they used this ridiculously overpriced piece of cake to pay for their baby’s ridiculously overpriced carriage.
  
  But I doubt it.
  
  
  
• Little George is giving his mother gray hair. But not really. He’s being blamed for giving his mother gray hair, but there were plenty of pictures highlighting her gray hairs even before she was a duchess.
  
  
  
  
  Listen, as you know, I rarely pass up an opportunity to judge the Deficient Duchess, but even I think this has been blown out of proportion. People gray. It’s a fact of life. On the other hand, when all you’ve given people to judge you on is your appearance, you can’t exactly be surprised when they do.
  
  As for the folks saying, “Leave them alone and let them live their lives in private,” I say, “What?!” Royals don’t get to hide away, living life in private. That’s the deal. They get unlimited pampering and privilege, but with limited privacy. Kate knew this. And she chose this life anyway. A bit Faustian? Perhaps. But don’t tell me she didn’t know exactly what she was getting – or that I should feel sorry for her.

But enough about Kate. For now. I would be remiss if I didn’t mention that the British Royal Family is about to increase by yet one more – and, thankfully, I’m not talking about the Sweet Ginger Prince taking a wife. Yet.  

I’m referring instead to one of Princess Anne’s oft-forgotten children, Zara, who is currently gestating yet another great-grandchild for Britain’s beloved queen. You may remember Zara from last year’s London Olympics where, as other members of The Family sat idly by clapping and smiling, Zara was winning silver medals in the team equestrian event. But now, as she eases into her last trimester, she’s traded horses for homemaking – cooking, to be exact.

Zara may not technically have a title – a decision her mother made for both her and her brother – but I’d say she’s representing the royal family quite nicely. 

  Zara and her well-fed husband, Mike Tindall, at Prince George's christening.   

And it looks like another royal family will also soon be getting a visit from the stork. Sweden's Princess Madeleine and her husband, Chris O’Neill, are expecting their own little Swedish meatball next spring. If you remember, the two married in June and not long after came news of the pregnancy that “happened a little fast and very suddenly,” according to the princess. This will be the second grandbaby for Sweden’s king and queen, with Madeleine’s sister, Crown Princess Victoria, producing an heir in February of last year. This latest addition to the royal family is due to make his or her much(ish)-anticipated appearance in March.

Mark your calendars.

Princess Madeleine, with her husband Chris, hiding her baby bump.

And here...not so much.

It Must Be a Boy because I'm Feeling Quite Blue

Today was a Monday in every sense of the word: It was nearly impossible to get up this morning. Work was a doozy. AND THEN, the royal layabout – sorry, let me clarify: the newest royal layabout (I forgot I had to be specific when discussing lazy royals) – finally made his appearance. Did you catch that? His appearance.

Yes, in case by some miracle you haven’t heard, Kate Middleton and her husband had a boy.

Obviously I knew this moment was inevitable. Kate couldn’t very well gestate her baby forever. But this child was the most overpublicized fetus in history. I can’t imagine what we’re in for now that he’s actually wheels down.  

And, it appears that just like was the case with his grandparents, the frenzied excitement surrounding the birth of Baby Boy Cambridge has less to do with the delivery of an heir and more to do with the delivery of the Most Amazing Woman in the World’s son. Sure, he may someday be king, but what’s more important is that he shares DNA with BOTH Kate and Diana. Could this child get any luckier?!

No word yet on what the genetically gifted tot’s name is, but that’s pretty much in keeping with royal tradition. They like to keep secrets; it makes them feel superior. William’s name wasn’t revealed to the peons until a week after his birth and Charles’s wasn’t revealed for an entire month. So, for now, we wait for the blessed day when the Prince of Cambridge’s Christian name is revealed, content in the fact that we are alive to witness such greatness. What stories we’ll be able to tell our children and grandchildren about the day the most important child in the history of the world (sorry Jesus) was born, the day the Prince of Cambridge graced us with his presence!

The Prince of Cambridge. The boy who would be king.

Maybe.

If his parents and grandparents don’t screw it up first.

Let’s Use Our Heads, People. It’s the Lump Three Feet Above Our Asses.

I didn’t think it was possible, but the royal baby frenzy has gotten even more insane over the last couple of days. Basically every other story on my Yahoo! daily newsfeed has something to do with the forthcoming royal baby. And since the news outlets have essentially no new information, instead of writing about the 1,000s of truly newsworthy things happening in our world, they choose to write about royal-related nothingness.

Here are just a few of the recent headlines:

“Inside the Lindo Wing, Where Kate May Give Birth”

She may, she may not. Doesn’t really matter, as long as they can put “Kate” and “birth” in the headline.

“William First in Royal Family to Get Perk”

Spoiler alert: It’s paternity leave.

“Is Kate Middleton Trying to Fake Us Out?

This highly informative article centers on all the things we don’t know: birth hospital, due date, baby name, baby gender, etc. Is Kate choosing not to reveal any of this because she’s trying to create mystery? Or, perhaps, it’s because the royals have decided it’s not any of our business. We’re not their family. We’re not their friends. We simply don’t matter to them. In fact, we’re not even on their radar.

“Where’s that Royal Baby? Is Kate Overdue?”

I can see why this would make it on the front page since Kate is the only woman who’s ever gone past her (alleged) due date.

“Royal Baby Frenzy: Queen Elizabeth’s Cousin Is Not Impressed”

Finally. Someone with a little perspective.

Then there was the story about how the fire department had to be called to what was believed to be the Middletons’ house to get the head of what was believed to be Kate and William’s dog, Lupo, out of the gate it was stuck in.

And the report that Queen Elizabeth left a cricket match early, which of course meant Kate was in labor. It was the only logical explanation. Except, wait, that was Thursday. So, where’s the baby? The birth announcement? The 62-gun salute? Oh, right. It was another false alarm.

But my favorite happened today outside of St. Mary’s Hospital, where Kate is expected to give birth. Much to the surprise of all the anxious onlookers camped out outside, a dark car pulled up to the curb and Kate and William popped out! In front of everyone! Just like that. William protectively ushered his very pregnant wife past the gawking masses to the front door of the hospital. And as the frenzied crowd began moving towards them, William and Kate turned around, busted open their top layer of clothing and revealed t-shirts advertising The Sun.

Wait, what?

I know what you’re thinking. It doesn’t make sense. Why would William and Kate be working for The Sun? They can barely be bothered to do their real jobs.

  What is that girl doing on her phone? Doesn't she know the greatness directly behind her? They are to be worshiped, not ignored!    

I’m sure you’ll be surprised to hear that it wasn’t actually the Cambridges. Just a couple of lookalikes hired by The Sun. Shocking, I know. But don’t worry, folks, I’m sure that when the real Kate goes into labor, she too will be ushered in through the front doors of the hospital for the entire world to see, because, you know, the royals care nothing about privacy.

 I mean, it could've been them. It wasn't, but let's don't get bogged down with facts.  

Listen, I understand that people got caught up in the moment, but let’s just think this through logically for a second. IF Kate delivers at St. Mary’s, I’m fairly certain they’ll bring her in through an underground labyrinth that requires blood samples and retina scans to get through each steel-infused security door. They’re sure as heck not going to bring her in the FRONT DOOR!

People are excited. I get it. (Kind of.) But the reality is, it’s a baby. And it will still be a baby, and still just as interesting – which is to say, not very – tomorrow and the day after. He or she will be the topic of news stories for years and years and years to come.

All I’m saying is this: Don’t overexert yourself. Pace your hysteria.

It would be an awful shame to burn yourself out on this kid before (s)he’s even on the ground.    

Duchesses... They're Just Like Us!

(warning:  this is a two-for-the-price-of-one-groan-post)

#1.  They get their heels stuck on grating!

Oh, the indignity!

But you know how you know duchesses aren't just like us?  When we, the flotsam and jetsam of the universe, get our heel stuck on grating it doesn't land in the number nine spot of Yahoo! trending search terms.

Be sad for humanity.

#2.  They wear the same coat... twice!

Wait, what year is it?  One doesn't know... One just got back from vacay.  Oh, that doesn't help. (It is in fact from 2012).  

Again, you know how you know duchesses aren't just like us?  The wear the same coat a year apart.  We wear the same coat a day apart.


And for those of you active bump watchers, there isn't much to see.  Check out this bump-friendly photo from St. Patrick's Day 2013 below.

No, one did NOT just eat a large lunch.  One doesn't eat lunch.  Ever.

Broken Promises

Someone get me a priest... STAT!

We aren't even 24 hours into Lent and I've already violated my Lenten Offering.  I was committed to not discussing Duchess Dolittle for the next 40 days.  And then the Bikini Baby Bump Bonanza Broke.  I mean, how were we at ATG supposed to pass up the chance for five B alliteration???  

And what's more, how could we even begin to deprive all of our lovely ATG readers all the Waity Whisperings that are Worthy to Write.  And that's a four W alliteration for those of you who are counting.

But I digress, without further ado, the bump see round the world.  

Careful, if you squint, you might miss it.

Three main things:

1.  That bump could be caused by eating a sandwich at lunch.  Which by the look of things #2 and #3 she clearly didn't finish.

2.  Pelvic Protrusion.

3.  Skeletal Shoulders.

Here's to hoping the Lord will go lightly on us- especially since we realized our limitations early on.  And we've given Him some stellar alliterations.  And we know for a fact that the Lord loves a good alliteration.  

Mustique’s Mystique

If you read ATG with any regularity (and if you don’t, why not?!) you know how much we hate to say anything negative about the world’s most beloved (and overrated) woman, Waity Katie.

Okay, so maybe we don’t hate it that much.

But honestly, it’s her own fault. She makes it nearly impossible to find anything nice to say. She’s lazy and entitled, and makes Octomom look hard-working. (And anyone who inspires me to say nice things about Octomom clearly sucks at life.)

Recently, though, I’d been spared from any uncharitable Waity thoughts, as it seemed there'd been a lull in the Kate mania—or Katenia, as I like to call it. I have to admit, I was very much appreciating the quiet (and my more pleasant disposition). Then I discovered the reason behind the press blackout and all my pleasantness came to a complete and abrupt halt, much like Lindsay Lohan’s career.

The Workless Wonder is gone.

Out of the country.

In Mustique.

On vacation. VACATION!

Vacation from what, exactly? Shopping? Hair appointments? Exercising? Not eating? Sleeping late? Her insanely pampered life?

Probably none of the above, as I’m sure she’s partaking in all these same activities in Mustique.

Poor dear, having to take her work with her on holiday.

Well, of course she needs a vacation. Carrying your own umbrella is very hard work.

(As an aside, I must extend my condolences to the rest of the island’s guests. Remember what happened last time the Worthless Twosome and the Meddling Middletons traveled to Mustique? They commandeered the entire island.)

And isn’t it funny how this doesn’t make the front page? Her new haircut: front page. Her latest wardrobe choice: front page. The fact that she can’t be bothered to do even one day’s work: nothing. Ah, how I love that unbiased, completely objective, media. News flash, press people, she’s not Diana. She may have the ring and the height and the wistful, blank stare, but she’s not Diana. And no matter how much you try to make her Diana, it won’t work because, to recap, she’s NOT DIANA.

There are plenty of criticisms you can make of the late princess, but work-shy is not one of them. Her daughter-in-law on the other hand hasn’t “worked” since, what, this summer when she was an Olympic “ambassador”? And to be clear, she only showed up for the Summer Olympics, not for the Paralympics, which were also held in London. So, although Dolittle required prime seats at many Olympic events, the Paralympics apparently weren’t glamorous enough to deserve much of the Great One’s precious time.

No, it seems that she had a much more pressing engagement: vacay. In France. Remember those French vacation photos? Where we got an up close and personal view of the Duchess’s true cup size? Bet she wishes now that she’d stayed in London and watched a Para event or two.  

Here they are again...hard at work.

But getting back to my original point, what is this a vacation from? In case you’re wondering  how many charity appearances -- or what the royals call “work” -- she’s made this year, let me fill you in: Zero. Zilch. Nada.

Not one.

But can you blame her? After all, gestating a baby is really, really hard work. And, not only is Kate a very delicate flower, but she’s also apparently the only woman who’s ever been pregnant.

Obviously it’s very important that she relax while she can, as she’ll soon be really, really busy—ordering around the plethora of nannies, wet nurses, and child wranglers sure to be permanent installations at the castle. Why, anyone can see what a tough road lies ahead for the poor dear.

Poor, poor Kate.

We should all go light a candle for her.