Hmm, I seem to have come into work dressed as a slightly wrong version of the Queen on a Sunday afternoon's huntin', shootin' and fishin' at Balmoral.
Even though my boots are brown suede and not Hunter wellies, and I got my tweed skirt in a French department store rather than Daks, and my green jacket is a sort of military-style effort and not a Barbour, and my necklace has flowery beads rather than pearls, I still look like I'm about to nick off to spend my Civil List moolah on a couple of footstools for the corgis and a headscarf to keep the pheasant blood out of my hair.
When actually I'm just off to M&S to buy rice salad and nuts.
*waves regally to the cheering mob of serfs, peasants and oiks*
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Is this because I called you ma'am, the other day? (Or did I call you ma'am because, subconsciously, I associate you with Elizabeth R?)
'Member that bit in GW when Guy gives Caroline a crown to help her feel better and she goes WAY over the top and they duff each other up? Think CROWN, girl.
It could be worse - you could look like me: an ice-cream salesman on crack.
Albert: I really hope it's the former. Although I have met Elizabeth R - more on that story later.
Mangonel: Yes, that's what I'm missing.
*puts roll of sellotape on head*
Billy: Is it from the crack topping they put on Cornettos? (Cornetti?)
Gawd bless yer, maa'aam!
We are indeed your metaphorical serfs. And privileged it is that we are to have you wave at us from your blog, Gawd love you ma'am.
*tugs forelock* but only slightly.
Is there any way to link this is with the recent discovery that women dress up more when ovulating?
Hmm, you could be on to something there, GSE.
Although it could be equally due to the discovery that I had no other clean clothes that didn't need ironing. Tricky one.
Also:
Cello and Del - There'll be suitable rewards for you both in my New Year's Honours list, don't you worry.
you also "met" HRH Duke of York once as I recall.
I had some posh people as patients once and when I visited their house I wasn't allowed to go in the front door. Doctors are classed as tradespeople apparently.
God bless you, your majesty.
Actually, Patroclus do you fancy being the queen. I mean she's so dull. What about a bloggers uprising to put you upon the throne?
I second Heather's comment. After all as you and the Blue Cat are now officially the blogging world's answer to Posh and Becks (TM), it can only be a matter of time :)
I hear tweed is very in this autumn. Or am I getting muddled up with tartan? Both a bit queeny, anyway.
The Queen's dead sexy right now y'know.
Helen Mirren has just apologised for her legs not been as sexy as Brenda's in the recent picture-show.
(I am intrigued by the meeting ER story; but I am an Uber-Republican, so I can't possibly ask for details.)
Um, I did mean 'being'.
Sorry. Wine.
Smat: Indeed, there's no member of the royal family that I haven't cross-dressed in front of or run into full-tilt with my arms tied behind my back.
Heather, Billy: Yes, you down there. Bring me tea, and then procure me the finest Lego Difference Engine known to humanity, on a gold salver borne by peacocks. Chop chop!
Actually, what is a salver?
Lucy: This is the first time I have been accused of being queeny. I quite like it. I'm off to get all histrionic about how someone else's boyfriend called me 'paunchy', or something.
Where was it I read that the Queen isn't classy enough to be played by Helen Mirren?
Anyhow, rest assured that despite my multiple brushes with The Royalty, my sentiments are as republican as the next person's.
Hmm, if there's one thing that this blog has taught me about myself, it's that I'm a hundred times posher than I thought I was, and I don't think I like it.
Do we now have to affectionately call you "Cabbage?"
You mean you didn't already?
No, Babbage seems more apt.
You know, the outfit you describe is not too dissimilar to the one I saw a certain nonagenerian of our mutual acquaintance wearing this afternoon. Muahahahaha.
Albert, it is just as I feared.
I have been known to venture forth in a Black Watch tartan bodywarmer, topped off with a silk scarf, just to allow me to take tea at the Balmoral Hotel, here in Edinburgh. Not worth it really.
As, unlike the actual royal family, you are worth every penny of your income, I suggest we immediately move to set up a parallel cyberkingdom in which you are queen and James is your Prince consort? Or perhaps he could be your champion, a post with more potential for weapons and combat and that?
wf: yaafll = that German woodpecker book-end in Bagpuss
well, i picked my nose wearing gloves once. and this one time, at band camp? i wore a crepe scarf tied under my chin. bismillah, y'all.
god i need coffee.
Were you wearing a hat? I thought the queen always wore a hat? But then, I don't really know much about royalty in general.
I may have resembled the Queen yesterday, but unless the Queen loafs about the Buck House kitchen in stripy pyjamas and a black vest (a special 'cyberpunk' black vest, for doing special 'cyberpunk' things in), dripping honey on to her laptop keyboard while wondering why her hair must insist on going so frizzy at the merest hint of a torrential thunderous downpour, I don't think I resemble her this evening.
Phew.
Although I may have just made myself sound suspiciously like Brian May. My hair isn't *that* frizzy. Honest.
Simon Holyhoses: I don't even want to think about that question.
Sounds like an interesting ensemble. I met some burd the other day who spent six grand* on personal shopping at Saks, madness (though she did look good).
Nice to know your eating habits haven't changed. I always picture you downing caviar and those scrummy truffles from F&M when I'm not there.
*Dollars. So probably about 72pence in *real* money
I can confirm a definite lack of caviar and truffles of late. Clearly I have latched onto the Patch Wagon just a couple of years too late.
What's a salver?
Isn't it one of those shiny trays things that catches dribble?
Or am I thinking of a silver saliva saver?
No, it's definitely a silver dribble tray.
But a gold one you say? With Peacocks and a lego difference engine?
I shall get on to it immediately ma'am.
There's a pleasing nip in the air this morning, which means that it is indeed nearly time for Fortnum & Mason champagne truffles.
(It's saying that sort of thing that makes me think I'm posher than I thought I was.)
I shall scoff mine off a silver dribble tray in my cyberpunk vest and stripy pyjamas.
(There, now I'm back down with the hoi polloi again, oh yes.)
As long as you don't have the Hapsburg chin, wear what you darn well pleasie.
That sounds a bit harsh. Here's a !, and a :-).
Not at all, Arabella, it came across as very sound advice, and not in the least bit harsh.
I shall attempt not to develop a Hapsburg chin, whatever that looks like.
*goes off to check*
It's basically Princess Anne in profile.
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