FERGIE-LICIOUS!

Sarah-Kate defends the hapless royal rebel

As someone with a penchant for gingers, it’s no surprise that my soft spot extends to recent mother-of-the-bride the Duchess of York.

What a jolly creature Sarah Ferguson seemed when she first appeared on the scene in the ’80s. She was way more like one of us than the royals – the newly minted Princess Diana aside – who all seemed such a stiff-upper-lipped bunch.

But Fergie’s lips were loose as anything. She bounced when she walked, made witty repartee, flew a plane, traded jokes with Prince Philip and after her 1986 marriage – which I remember watching as though it were yesterday – was touted as the Queen’s new favourite.

Then, of course, it all went horribly wrong. Like most people, I don’t remember the details, just that some bald dude sucked her toes while she was topless sunbathing, the marriage ended and Fergie fell from grace. More than twice.

There was the nearbankruptcy that elicited much tut-tutting. Then the embarrassing sting in which she was filmed tipsily offering access to her ex-husband for money. Oh, and she probably shouldn’t have bitched to Oprah Winfrey about not getting an invite to Kate and Wills’ wedding.

No wonder she’s allegedly on the outer, particularly with Prince Philip, who clearly no longer shares the same sense of humour. But I’ve been off Philip ever since the second series of TheCrown. He verges on plonker, if you ask me.

So what if Fergie’s put her foot in her mouth so many times she could officially be described as a centipede? She and Prince Andrew perfected the art of conscious uncoupling before Gwyneth Paltrow even had her first boyfriend. They’ve not only stayed mates, but have also successfully co-parented two princesses who, despite the odd fascinator slip-up, seem perfectly nice girls.

And how I loved seeing Eugenie marry the man of her dreams in St George’s Chapel at Windsor a couple of weeks ago. The beaming smile on Eugenie’s face – and that of her new hubby – warmed the cockles of my heart.

Those royals-once-removed get all the glitz and glamour (Robbie Williams’ daughter as a bridesmaid!), but without the pressure of ever having to rule the Commonwealth. Things would have to go seriously wrong for there ever to be a Queen Eugenie!

But I did feel for Fergie on the big day. If what the lip-readers were saying is true, she felt slightly trussed-up in her form-fitting outfit, which is bad enough on its own. But if the other royals were giving her the cold shoulder? Ouch!

But there she was, doing her best despite her slightly 1950s air hostess hat, watching her baby girl walk down the aisle. Later on, I hope she got to undo her zipper and maybe sing karaoke with James Blunt or have a sly fag with Kate Moss. Or maybe while everyone was partying, she slipped into Windsor Castle and apple-pied Philip’s bed.