The Royals and their fancied dress

So it’s done. And I confess that I found myself reaching less for the vomit bucket than I had expected – notably when some media clot attempted to offer a fascinating comment about the Royals, usually not as fascinating as Beatrice’s stupid, stupid hat.

But something does bug me; Will Self made a reference to it on Newsnight last Friday: the French “army nation” concept. Every single Royal Male (NPI) was in an armed services uniform, with the sole exception of Prince Edward, who got himself out of the Marines and into show business – for a while at least. (You have to admit that Harry somewhat upstaged his brother in the fancy dress stakes, wearing black with loads of gold braid, straight out of The Prisoner of Zenda, while William was daubed in a red tunic with a blue sash – Will Self described it as somewhat camp – more like Zulu without the pith helmet.)

Where were the tanks and the rocket launchers?

But what’s with this excessive display of militarism, though? It can’t solely be the contribution it makes to the braid manufacturing industry. I find this cosiness with the armed forces by the Royals slightly sinister and deeply anachronistic, just like the faux military goings-on at Wootton Bassett (QV). In their splendid (sic) uniforms, they’re representing our brave armed forces, who are out there Fighting for Us; and this puts them beyond criticism. Nice try, but it wins no cigar of mine.

I think it would be so much better if they took the uniforms back to the museum and settled for Moss Bros instead. Then they could be supportive of the waistcoat industry rather than the makers of scrambled egg.