WITH the royal wedding coming up, my mind went back to the last royal bash in 2011 when William and Kate tied the knot.
Having heard that ‘The Girls’ were converging on our house on the big day to watch it on TV, I had decided to make myself scarce and potter around elsewhere.
Weddings are not my thing; I’ve been married twice you see. My first wife was so immature; she would do things like walking in on me when I was taking a bath and sinking my duck.
She eventually ran off with a Scotsman, who I later exacted revenge on by letting him keep her. Second time around it has been a very different matter and a much happier story.
Anyway it’s what the country needed at the time and in my opinion Harry and Meghan’s forthcoming nuptials will also be a breath of fresh air in a country that is beset with Brexit chatter and incompetent politicians.
The decision not to invite those same politicians and other dignitaries, just because they happen to have big sounding titles and diplomatic status, is to be applauded.
I remember distinctly Mrs Cameron’s strange choice of headwear in 2011, something that might have looked good whilst shopping at Primark, but in Westminster Abbey was as out of place as Donald Trump on Mastermind.
You could detect the slight smirk of satisfaction on the face of Miriam Clegg who sported a very nice red titfer thank you very much.
But then again you know what they say about women who wear red hats. Then there were Prince Andy’s girls who looked as if they had come straight from a dress rehearsal of The Lion King.
They were not so much hats as creations from a Salvador Dali wet dream. And the pouting and thoroughly brassed off looking Victoria Beckham, who seemed perplexed because she could not grasp the reality of not being the centre of attention.
For the guests again this time it will probably be back to Buck House for sausage rolls and vol-au-vents followed by a party and some serious drinking for Harry and his mates. And some silly upper class japes I shouldn’t wonder.
It must be a bit restrictive for youngsters letting their hair down in such surroundings, knowing that Her Majesty is upstairs in her hairnet and winceyette nightie.
Perhaps she and Phil will take themselves off to a Premier Inn for the night. So long life and happiness to the couple.
Whether you happen to be a royalist or not, the British monarchy is about the only thing left that the rest of the world is envious of.