(SPOILER ALERT!) Prince Harry is officially off the market. I say this in case you were held captive in North Korea or by a Tinder date gone bad and missed the wall-to-wall coverage all weekend.
I had no intention of getting up to watch it, but around the time I had to get up to feed the dog I saw that Harry and William had just arrived at the church. Then the cameras cut away to footage of Meghan’s car. Driving. And driving. And driving. I had flashbacks to the O.J. Bronco chase but this was a nicer car moving in even slower motion. I lost interest after 3 minutes and went back to bed.
My Polish grandmother was a major Royals enthusiast. Imagine, if you will, TMZ in a babushka. If there was a hint of a royal scandal, Stella was the first to know. I felt a bit like I was letting her down by my lack of enthusiasm. I remember as a child getting up to watch the wedding of Prince Charles and Princess Diana. Hell, I even brought special cupcakes to work and wore my tiara for William and Kate’s wedding. But not this time.
I struggled this weekend to dissect why I get more emotionally invested in watching The Bachelor than I was in this event. Seriously, I watch the Hallmark Channel regularly and there is a movie about an American commoner marrying a prince for every season—Christmas, Valentine’s Day, Oktoberfest… And I watch them all. Well, unless said prince is homely, or Dean Cain trying to revitalize his career. You’re no David Hasselhoff, Superman.
Now, I don’t have anything against Harry. I’m not anti-Ginger. She was my favorite castaway. It’s not even that I believe Charles isn’t really Harry’s father. (Google James Hewitt…DNA tests are faked all the time on soap operas.) But William was always more my type. I prefer tall and subdued and smart and awkward-looking. That, and maybe I’m just too politically correct and men who dress up as Nazis are on my List of Men I Will Not Date. Actually the List says German memorabilia collectors. Po-tay-to, po-tah-to.
I like to think my instincts about people are pretty accurate, because I’m a Libra with Scorpio rising. Something about Meghan just doesn’t strike me as genuine. She doesn’t look at Harry the same way he looks at her. Maybe she would if Harry pointed a camera at her. I realize Kate was ambitious in her pursuit of William but they at least were together for like 10 years before getting married. Plus Kate is a Chelsea FC fan, so she is clearly good people. I just have a feel this whole thing ends with a toe-sucking scandal a la Fergie in short of 3 years.
When did I become so cynical that I can’t even enjoy the spectacle of it all? Am I that devoid of joy?
Maybe because I read about them removing the homeless people from the street. And rerouting air traffic. And that the price tag for this lowkey second wedding cost more than that of the actual heir to the throne. If you really want to convince me you are transforming the royal family and becoming more like the real peons you “rule,” then maybe start with eloping and saving the taxpayers some expense.
It isn’t only the practical side of things though. I’ve outgrown the fairytale. The jewels, and the horse-drawn carriage, and the cellist, and the doves, and David Beckham. (Just kidding. I’ll keep David Beckham.) Meghan’s image has been sculpted as a life-long feminist. Yet she gave up her career, country, religion, family, and one of her rescue dogs (don’t get me started) to go hold Harry’s hand and live in a palace in the spotlight. That’s what they don’t show you in the Hallmark movies. Even love must get old when you lose your freedom for it. You can’t eat when the queen isn’t eating. You can’t run to the store in your pajamas. You are expected to pop out a baby and be photogenic and waltzing 6 hours later. No thanks. I don’t need a prince to show up on a white horse and whisk me off to a castle to do what the family feels is appropriate for me to do. I’ve worked too hard on my own identity to applaud another woman for giving up hers.