When Harry met Chelsy, Jenna . . . and Meghan
She’s not his first, but world holds thumbs that this one will last
It’s possible that an indigenous group living deep in the jungles of Borneo are still oblivious to the existence of Meghan Markle, but this was the week that the rest of Planet Earth caught a hefty bout of royal fever.
The news that Prince Harry and his 36-year-old biracial American girlfriend would be getting married in May sparked a media frenzy.
Let’s hope President Donald Trump took time from baiting his North Korean counterpart to congratulate a fellow citizen whose social standing now outstrips his own. She’ll have vastly better crockery to dine off come Christmas lunch.
And did Robert Mugabe, that closet Anglophile, watch the latest royal saga unfold on telly? It’s not like he has a country to terrorise any longer.
No aspect of their romance was deemed too trivial to scrutinise by ardent royalists and social commentators, some from unlikely quarters.
Every gesture during their first public royal walkabout in Nottingham on Friday was interpreted as hundreds of royalists gathered to catch a glimpse of the couple.
Little-known Italian brand Parosh experienced the greatest PR boost in its 25-year history when Markle chose to wear one of its green fitted dresses to announce her engagement to the world’s favourite ginger. “Almost overnight, a thumbs up from Markle has become the most sought-after endorsement a brand can get,” observed London’s Daily Telegraph.
Elle.com had been quick to point out that Markle contravened royal protocol by crossing her legs while watching the Invictus Games in Toronto with Harry in September. Off with her head! (The same article noted that at least she was wearing jeans at the time of this grave offence. Perhaps grounds to petition for a royal reprieve?)
Lofty media titles waded in. The Economist noted how difficult it was for Britons to marry foreigners, what with tightened immigration laws. “Prince Harry faces a long correspondence with the Home Office.” Ya sure, and pigs can fly.
The Financial Times predicted that the royal marriage would do little to boost the sluggish British economy (thanks for letting us know).
But has Markle been tasked with impossibly high expectations?
“A divorced, mixed-race Hollywood actress who attended a Roman Catholic school is to marry the son of the next King. Such a sentence could simply not have been written a generation ago,” wrote the Telegraph.
Guardian columnist Georgina Lawton noted that Markle was “subverting social hierarchy and upending the British class system in the process”.
The marriage would “destroy the long-held notion that being regal means being white, or that the main link between Africa and Buckingham Palace is one of colonial importance”, Lawton added.
On a lighter note, Markle certainly has the key physical attributes required to lure a modern prince. The obligatory Jane Fonda abs, those million-dollar legs and a tumble of glossy locks.
Lucky Harry. Princes did not always have the luxury of choosing their spouses. King Henry VIII was inveigled into marrying wife number four, Anne of Cleves, on the basis of her portrait. He was horrified when he finally saw the Flanders Mare in the flesh. “I like her not! I like her not!” he shouted, ordering the Tudor mafia to get him out of the marriage. At least he didn’t chop off her head.
Markle has been compared to Grace Kelly, the Oscar-winning American actress who in the 1950s nabbed herself a crown as the demure Princess Grace of Monaco.
The Queen has given the union her unconditional blessing despite — or because of — her grandson’s unconventional choice. She no doubt recalls how Harry’s mom, Lady Diana Spencer, scored 10 out of 10 for eligibility — and we all know how that worked out.
But even today there are rules that Johnnycome-lately royals are expected to obey. Like Grace, Meghan will have to give up her acting career, and her social activism will have to conform to the royal specs.
As for Harry, he’s come a long way from the juvenile rugger bugger who turned up at a party wearing Nazi insignia — this from a man whose great-grandparents were symbolic bulwarks against Hitler’s tyranny.
The good causes he has embraced and his natural affinity with commoners, a trait he shares with his mother, have transformed him into a muchloved member of The Firm.
No doubt the gutter press on both sides of the pond will unleash their feral foot soldiers to dig up the dirt. A disgruntled ex? A dribbling uncle with a predilection for underage go-go girls?
But whatever the future, let’s hope this story has a happy ending. For once, can Cinderella get to keep her Prince Charming?
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