One spectator’s take on the event (From Bucks Free Press)
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The perfect wife and mother, Rebecca runs a home, a village magazine and is working on her novel. She does not visit the gym or jog but is in amazingly good shape. She enjoys photography, playing the piano and arguing with the TV. She lives in Amersham with her husband and youngest child (aged nine). Her eldest, now 26, lives and works in Buckinghamshire.
Royal Wedding: I was there!
6:06pm Tuesday 3rd May 2011
We were about five minutes late and missed getting on to The Mall. We ended up in Green Park in front of a screen.
I’m not particularly Royalist or anti-Royalist. I did not cry when Diana died and don’t follow constitutional changes to the line of the accession. My knowledge of the Kings and Queens of England is limited but all the same I proved to be mildly interested in this event.
It was to mark the occasion for our daughter that we went. And also because I couldn’t face a party the neighbours here had organised. No good at that kind of thing.
We had a good spot. In the sun with a bit of legroom.
On the grass in front of me was a large couple sitting on their large flags. I found I couldn’t do this (does this mean I’m more Royalist than not?) so remained on the cool grass unable to place my rear end on the printed faces of William and Kate.
The crowd drank, ate chips and smoked. There was a feeling of disinterest and I began to wonder why people were here. To witness the event? To feel part of something? Because they happened to be in London?
At key moments, the crowd gave a cheer and a wave to the camera. It was a very quiet gathering I thought.
By the time the couple had said their vows, many in the park were absolutely sloshed.
Trying to leave, the man in front of us was swaying about drunkenly so badly my husband gave him a couple of hard nudges to stop him falling on our daughter.
It verged on being unpleasant.
“You’ve pushed me twice already” the smartly dressed drunk man said.
“I’m trying to protect my daughter. You nearly bashed her twice.”
“I gotta darder too” the man answered. She didn’t seem to be with him. He was carrying two empty bottles of bubbly.
Later we saw some black cars leaving with their guests for more champers and good times no doubt.
But the most interesting thing about the morning was that for me, it was distinguished by a sense of remoteness. It confirmed my own place in the English class system (yes, class, not 'socio-economic' system) with such grandeur that I started to wonder why I myself had come.
The fact that I was willing to sit in a park just beyond the actual events was apt. I was most definitely outside.
Perhaps that’s what visitors like about our country. The elite set. The impossibility of joining this class.
Though I then have to disagree with myself and consider how an ‘ordinary middle-class girl’ has actually married into it.
In my most cynical moments I wonder whether this wedding was a huge PR event.
In our economically challenging times do the Royals put on a show like this to keep up our morale? To encourage us to keep working; are they the resplendent carrot in front of our noses?
‘Keep slogging away and you too might become rich.’
Perhaps in a muddled way I too wanted to be part of it. And yet I was part of nothing. Only the drunk American spoke to us. It had no sense of unity. It didn’t seem to bring anyone together.’
And then I have one final thought.
Will this event finally do away with the ‘Princess Affliction’ so many very ordinary girls now have? Will it drive home that they are not princesses?
You know, the girls who wear the crown logo on jeans and the parents who have their laughable ‘Princess on Board’ stickers slapped on the back of their cars. The ones for whom no man is good enough. Because they are so very special.
Will they scurry back under their rocks and come out after some serious reflection?
Or will this give credence to their fantasies and dreams of marrying a prince?
My memorabilia includes two Evening Standards, three flags and some poor photos.
But for what it’s worth, I was there.
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The perfect wife and mother, Rebecca runs a home, a bad temper and is working on her novel. She enjoys photography, playing the piano and likes almost anything that's out of fashion and uncool. She lives in Amersham with her husband and youngest child (aged ten). Her eldest, now 27, lives and works in Buckinghamshire.
