I never screamed for boy bands, didn't cry when they split up. I didn't really do the fan club scene or buy magazines because they promised to spill the innermost secrets of the latest boy crush. I did posters (Sugar, Mizz and Seventeen were the best) but mainly because I was in my black lipstick phase and had a bit of an issue with my pink flowery walls. I dabbled in a few signed pictures but I was never loyal to one heartthrob. I was more in to fashion and beauty magazines than gossip ones (and I still am). My room was covered in pictures of real people that I knew and loved, plus a few crushes, as I took my camera to school most days and on most nights out (and again - I still do!). In fact I found seven rolls of undeveloped film from my school days the other day whilst clearing out our bedroom (more on this coming soon). I wonder what's on them...the mystery! Remember those days of film and imperfect pictures? I miss those days. The days when you took a picture and a few days later you got to see it. It told a story, a true reflection of the moment. Now, we take a picture, we check it out, we scrutinise every face, every pose, we judge how we look in comparison to others and we debate whether to keep it and then if all captured photographees concur, we keep it.Unless you know my friend Katy… she’s a stealth deleter. She’ll snaffle your camera away and edit your photos. Sneaky. But then, I don’t have a single bad picture of her. So, clearly effective.
I miss those imperfect pictures and the laughs they give you years later. Then again, is it so bad that years in the future only decent pictures of me can be found? Probably not.
Anyway, I digress. I was talking about my lack of obsessive fangirling as a teen.
Over the last few years I've discovered that I have an inner fangirl desperate to escape. And guess what, at Royal Ascot last year she got loose in a big way. I got butterflies whilst we were waiting to see The Queen come round in her open-topped coach. I got excited and flustered and struggled to contain my emotions, and then I saw her… In. The. Flesh. Ok it was from about 50 metres away, but she was there. And so was I. And I cried. Fangirl was well and truly released!
Since then I have befriended the British Monarchy on Stalkbook, I follow them on Twitter, I read every story published in the daily news and devour every detail of their daily lives. Basically I'm turning in to my Nan. But I'm not ashamed. I LOVE THE QUEEN!
Back at the time of the Golden Jubilee everybody wondered why I got so excited and dressed like a slightly unhinged pearly queen for work, but they took it that I was just embracing the spirit and patriotism of the day. Now that Royal Fangirl has escaped, we know what actually happened is that I'm obsessed with Queenie!
When she came to Canary Wharf (my home from 9.30-5.30, Mon-Fri) to open a new building I dashed up the road in minus temperatures in just my cardy to be there waiting and clapping when she daintily slipped out of the Rolls. Half the office thought I was crazy.... They're probably not far short of the mark to be fair.
Queenie, Kate and Wills popped in for a beer...
And then, the best thing since, well, EVER happened. Wills proposed to Kate. There was to be a Royal Wedding. Can you imagine my excitement? Royals on the telly, in magazines, newspapers and newsfeeds ALL DAY, EVERY DAY, and a whole new HRH to adore. I was in heaven! I planned a party (my second fave thing to do after loving the royals), bought royal family masks, covered my parents’ house in Union Flag (not Union Jack, as Baby Bro informed me the other day) bunting, commissioned trays and trays of patriotic cupcakes and giant scones, issued all the guests with a flag to wave during the national anthem and bought every Victoria Sandwich in a five mile radius. In fact I still am in royal wedding heaven. There’s still a new story every day, and there’s Zara’s wedding coming up in a few months. I literally cannot wait for more glossy pages of royal news. I might even throw another party. Now there’s an idea……
Fangirl isn't fussy. If there's a whiff of HRH in the title they're on my list! I just can't get enough. It's not the "princes are hot" aspect. Nor the "I want to marry a prince and be a real-life princess" gene that most girls are born with (me included - though mine mutated in to the "become a real-life princess and then one day become Queen and boss everyone about ‘Off With Their Heads’ styley" gene). I could probably recite the list of heirs-to-the-throne to you up to about 50th in line.
The question is why? Maybe it’s because I'm in love with history, but have grown up in a society that is obsessed with celebrity. Aren't the royals the ultimate celebs? Well they are to me!
I mean, it's not just the present-day royals I'm in love with, but all royals. I watch David Starkey's documentaries with the attention I reserve for things like Glee, Lost and Friends. I read books about the Wars of the Roses and about Marie Antoinette's childhood. I got upset when HBO cast Johnny Lee Miller as Henry VIII and fabricated a soap opera-style porn series about one of his wives. I buy the Hello magazine specials when minor European Royalty tie the knot. I wander around castles, palaces, tombs and monuments on days out and trips abroad, imagining the feet that trod those floors before mine, poring over the family trees and royal lineage that links them across the continent....
So there you go. Fangirl well and truly released, and coming to a town near you, complete with flag, plastic tiara and national anthem song sheet. Now that Kate and Wills wedding is over, what am I going to do with all my stuff?
I have two words for you - DIAMOND JUBILEE. It's gonna be massive!
Patriotic party-ness. Are you ready for the Diamond Jubilee? Because I am....
HRH, Princess Victoria of Danbury, Duchess of Chelmer Village