Some of us spend a great deal of time thinking about love. Do those of us who are in love spend time thinking about love? Oh, we think of nothing else. And those among us who are not in love, do we not spend an inordinate amount of time wishing and hoping, sometimes longing for love in our lonely hours. And those of us newly, cautiously, courageously coming within reach of the possibility of true love, are we not distracted? Is our focus not pulled? And even those of us for whom love has died, do we not spend time analysing how and where it all went wrong? It is so wonderful thinking about falling in love, until you think you are actually falling in love, and then it’s terrifying. Well, it is to me. I’m a total basket case right now and I was only looking for sex. But that’s a story for another day. Run, Tselane, Run Far, Run Fast!
I saw something online from Kazakhstan Fashion Week. It was a picture of a woman on the ramp wearing platform shoes reminiscent of Gary Glitter in the 70’s, but without the glitter. She’s kind of slightly squatting and holding a long, fat snake. She has it by the neck, if snakes have necks, and the rest of its body falls between her bent knees to the ground. She’s wearing something black and innocuous. Snake’s skin is so first half of the decade. Someone should have told the snake it was inappropriately dressed. I mention it because it didn’t make sense to me. But then, I suppose it stands to reason that they do things differently in Kazakhstan.
Prince William and Kate Middleton are getting married tomorrow. I can’t help wondering how she feels right now. Tomorrow she will be the future queen of England. She will be a princess just like in the storybooks. She will marry a handsome prince, literally, and live happily every after, hopefully.
I’m looking forward, most of all, to seeing the dress. I have hopes for the dress. I have dreads about the dress as well. Look at me. I care about the dress. Well, it’s a Royal Wedding, which makes it every little girl’s fantasy. The little girl in me, who has yet to be swept off her feet for happily ever after, sighs and hopes that her turn will come. I dare not tell her that it won’t. Not like that, anyway.
Well, Princess Catherine, Duchess of Cambridge, looked totally lovely. The wedding had all the requisite pomp and circumstance and costuming and the hats on the guests were divine and the kiss on the balcony was full of love and promise and the way the happy couple looked at each other spoke of love and it was perfect.
Did we love the dress? We loved the dress. I mean the dress is the clincher, isn’t it? If we love the dress we love her and we love the wedding. It’s all about her. He’s a bit of an essential accessory. He looked as handsome as always, and a man in uniform…….! Totally! What’s sexier? What’s more dashing? What is more romantic than a soldier, a silver soul, a protector of the Kingdom. And he’s a Prince. He’s Royal. In the story books, it’s always the prince who marries the skullery maid, or wakes the sleeping maiden. It’s mills and boon on steroids. He’s a real, actual, proper prince and she’s the daughter of an airline steward who made money selling party stuff. OK, so not quite a skullery maid, but WTF. It’s perfect.
I know the argument that the UK is in financial trouble and there is enormous unemployment and the citizens probably don’t have bread, but WTF. What did they need yesterday while watching all that glamour? What could they possibly have needed more? Their souls were fed on royal glamour. The world loves that. So they don’t have jobs, hospitals, homes, bread. So what? As Marie Antoinette so aptly put it “Let them eat cake”. – But not Royal Wedding Cake.
Why do we even care? What does it have to do with us? It was only when Diana started to talk about the torture of being married to Charles, and then blossomed into the swan queen that people started to enjoy the royal thing, isn’t it? That’s when it started for me. Before then I didn’t give too much of a toss about the royals. In fact, if I’m honest I still don’t, but I do love a love story, and this Katie chick has persevered. She has stood by her man. She deserves rewards. Well, now she has them. A life of restriction and virtual imprisonment? No, I suspect they will do things differently. And their first daughter shall be called Diana – I’m not a gambling woman, but I’m taking bets.
So, I should place my attention back on my own troubled life. I keep thinking that I shouldn’t let myself fall in love. It’s been such a long time that I don’t even remember whether or not one has a choice. Love is so impractical and so inconvenient – at least, this love is.