I've been avoiding the whole Royal Wedding over-hype like the plague. That is, until this week. I'll admit it: I've caved. Like, fallen into some deep crevasse of Royal Wedding mania where now I kind of want a commemorative mug. I'm not joking. Aside from the irresistible kitsch, what is the deal with this wedding anyway? Americans abhor this kind of pompous ruckus. Don't we? Clearly not. By admitting this I've fallen suspect to all manner of unpatriatisms. Easy now, it's been only 6 short generations since my ancestors left England, maybe it just hasn't been bred out yet.
Even in those absurdly ridiculous hats (that I want to play dress-ups with).
This is really all her fault. (William who?)
I can't figure out exactly what about her draws me in. I suppose with all the nasty fashion that I see in magazines, blogs and TV every day, it's refreshing to see her sense of modern modest style. I wouldn't mind my daughters looking to her as a role model. Maybe it's because she was an Art History major so I can't deny for one second that we aren't kindred spirits on some fundamental nerd level. Or maybe it's because she comes from a small town in the charming English countryside called Bucklebury. Go ahead, try not to smile while saying the word Bucklebury. I wonder, does everyone from Bucklebury have sparkly eyes even in the rain? (And I don't mean the reflection of her engagement ring, even though that is a situation in and of itself that we should definitely talk about later). I'll go further out on a limb here and say that maybe I'm drawn to all of this because there is still that little girl inside of me who loves the fairy tale of happily ever after.
I have no answers or suitable justification for any of this obnoxious addition to the Royal Wedding fodder other than, ... she's lovely.
I can. not. WAIT to see the dress! squeeeeee
Images via here and here.