Friday, April 08, 2005

Saucy Wenches of the World UNITE!

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In honor (or "honour," if you're so inclined) of Camilla Shand Parker Bowles and her wedding to Prince Charles, I declare tomorrow, April 9th, officially SAUCY WENCH DAY. Saucy wenches everywhere can bask gloriously in the glow of Camilla as she finally gets her man, in broad daylight, in public and televised the world over.

Okay, I hear you say, but she's an adultress. She cheated on her husband with a married man, thereby destroying two marriages. And you'd be right, of course, so what would be the good in arguing. So I won't. I'll only say this: "So what?" She didn't slip Prince Charles a rufie and then have her way with him in the back room of some frat house. He chose her. If you believe everything everyone has to say, he chose her years before either of them were married, but that tired, stuffy old bag of a mother of his refused to let them get married thirty-five years ago. (Note: The Queen has a history of ruining people's lives this way, incidentally -- do a Google search on her sister, the late Princess Margaret, and see how she toyed with that sad little life.)

Why couldn't Charles marry Camilla all those years ago? Because Camilla was a saucy wench. Remember this -- the tragically, hopelessly unsaucy will do whatever they can to thwart and undermine us. They are merely jealous, because we are saucy and they are not.

Thankfully, because you can't keep a saucy wench down, she didn't let a little thing like royal disapproval and two marriages stop her. She went right on being her natural saucy self, and in the end, she got her man. He married Diana, but he never stopped loving her, and she remained his friend and advisor for years. It is reputed that she recommended Lady Diana Spencer as a prospective bride, which makes a wowser story, but has come under dispute in the last few years from some fairly reliable sources. She did try and take Diana under her wing, but promptly gave up when she discovered Diana didn't like horses or spectator sports, and loved disco and shopping. Camilla began to refer to Charles' wife as "that ridiculous creature," while Diana began to refer to Camilla as "the Rottweiler." (Bear in mind what I said about the tragically unsaucy.)

So, all eyes will be on Windsor tomorrow. Charles will be there. Camilla will be there. This wedding will be much different from the spectacle we saw in 1981. Charles isn't just approaching middle age -- he's embraced it full on and almost passed through it. And his bride isn't a virginal, overwhelmed little wisp of a cover girl, but a mature, middle-aged, attractive-in-that-British-kind-of-way woman of the world. She knows what the world has to offer, she knows there are disappointments, she understands that you don't get it just because you want it. She's loved and lost and loved again. She won't be wearing a big bowl of whipped cream and vanilla icing. My guess is she'll be dressed as she usually is -- tailored and tasteful, in something cream or candlelight. She'll carry a smallish bouquet and be wearing a minimum of jewels. She'll be in sensible, 2" pumps, no doubt and her hair and nails will be impeccably tended, as always. She will be smiling, her laugh lines (she is reputed to have a quick and wicked wit) beaming for all the world to see. She won't be on the cover of VOGUE any time soon. But my guess is, she won't be reading it any time soon either, much to her credit. She's the royal bride of a new era -- an era of war and soaring gas prices. Like the bride, we're older and we're wiser and we're a bit more prudent than we were in 1981.

But under that tailored, simple dress or suit, still beats the heart of a truly saucy wench -- one who didn't let spouses, children and a big extravaganza $52 million dollar wedding in 1981 get in the way of what she wanted. I love that in a woman. Someone bold enough and brash enough to do as she pleases and not give a jot about convention.... especially when that convention leads to loveless marriages to slightly dotty, pampered teenagers just to ensure a virgin in a frothy wedding gown. I'm reminded of Pride and Prejudice, when Elizabeth refuses to bow to Lady Catherine's prying into her relationship with Darcy, and instead tells her, "I am only resolved to act in that manner, which will, in my own opinion, constitute my happiness, without reference to you, or to any person so wholly unconnected with me." (Jane Austen, by the way... another very saucy wench... mmmhmmm.) If it is their intention to continue the monarchy and see Charles as their king, the British people should happily crown Camilla HRH. She is the only person who could possibly bring out the qualities in Charles that make him even remotely interesting (that "tampon" line may have been gross, but I found it weirdly creative... who knew?).

Camilla, dearest, regardless of how that whole title thing comes out, you'll always be queen of us saucy wenches. So you go! Marry that man, and kiss him twice for me. Kiss him for all the saucy wenches out there who have loved not wisely, but all too well.



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