Before the much anticipated wedding I watched interviews of forgotten semi-royals who once attended royal weddings. I enjoyed the media's replays of Lady Di stepping out of her horse drawn carriage in her gigantic dress. I noted to myself how much William looked like his mother, and thought how sad for him that she would not be there. I wondered aloud what style of dress Kate might choose, the type of flowers she might carry. Honestly, it was a beautiful diversion from my real life of work, and dishes, and diaper changes. And on the morning of the wedding I was thrilled to turn on the TV just in time to see Kate the Commoner whisked away to Westminster Abbey to marry her handsome prince. But since I think of myself as the kind of woman who would dress up for Halloween as Gloria Steinem dressed as a Playboy bunny (complete with "Hello My Name is Gloria Steinem" sticker badge) it's somewhat embarrassing to admit the amount of daydreaming I did about a royal wedding.
I don't know if it was the wedding itself that captured my imagination, or the fact that two exceptionally good-looking people were joining forces and seemed to be (really? truly?) in love. Like driving past a car accident, I had to turn my head to look. And then I had to replay favorite parts until full saturation had been reached. Kate entering the queen's 1950's Rolls Royce. The couple stepping out on the balcony at Buckingham Palace. Kate mouthing "oh wow" as she saw the enormous crowd of people. The kiss. The smile. The look. Only after viewing the wedding (again and again) in snippets and replays over the course of several days, did I come to tire of it and finally refocus my eyes on dust bunnies under the sofa and school papers to toss into the recycling bin. There's something about a wedding...
Now, I understand about money, and acknowledge the burden placed on the British people. I can agree that the amount of money spent to place trees inside the abbey to create the "garden wedding" feel the bride desired was, well, obscene. (Yes, that could have fed a lot of hungry people, or been directed to research for curing the common cold or cancer.) But. But, I still say there's something about a wedding.
My own wedding, well my first that is, was quite lovely. There was an island, and a ceremony held in the garden of a yellow Victorian that had beautiful red geraniums in the window boxes. There were horse-drawn carriage rides for the bride and groom and all the guests, and a big white dress with a bow on the backside. There were registries and showers and gifts. There were photos of the happy couple in front of The Lake and The Bridge, and for the cameras anyway, everything appeared to point in the direction of love. Who doesn't love a wedding? Nb: That first wedding happily only gave birth to a brief period of marital misery which ultimately ended in divorce.
My second wedding was clearly less wedding and more marriage. Even so, there was another white dress, more elegant than the first, and beautiful orange roses in my hand. There was an autumn breeze and a crisp blue sky. There was a whisper in my ear at Post Office Square asking if I would in fact marry him that day and always, and a justice of the peace who spoke about the importance of marriage. There was a champagne toast at a hotel with friends, and a camera passed to strangers to snap our photo as we wandered the city we loved best. It was a beautiful wedding. It was two people saying yes to building toward some new future, without fanfare, parade, attendants, or flower girls.
The thing is, I don't begrudge Wills and Kate their fanfare. A wedding is a celebration; it's one last hurrah before bunkering down in the trenches for the long haul. Marriage can so easily dissolve into unloading the dishwasher, taking out the trash, and paying the bills-- so it makes sense that couples, royal or not, go a little crazy planning their entrance. If there's anything I begrudge the royals, it's their housekeeping staff.
This year, my husband and I will celebrate our 10th wedding anniversary. In light of this, I have suggested grand plans for a catered party with friends at a downtown location. My husband has been lobbying for a weekend getaway--just the two of us--with a sitter hired to watch our three little ones. I don't know which way it will all turn out, but I can tell you one thing, I'm aiming to look as good as Pippa.
