Another royal wedding, I can hardly contain the excitement. Oh, hang on a second. That opening sentence has been affected by an enthusiasm malfunction. It should read “can hardly raise an eyebrow off the carpet for lack of interest”.
Apologies all round if you are agog with anticipation at the prospect of the second daughter of the Queen’s third child marrying a man who acts as a tequila ambassador.
I was previously unaware such a job existed. It is common for countries to have ambassadors; now tequila bottles have them, too.
Jack Brooksbank’s official job title is “tequila brand ambassador” for George Clooney’s tequila brand, Casamigos. Princess Eugenie’s job description is being one of those two princesses most sensible people cannot tell apart.
Here is her own take on this. She and elder sister Beatrice are both “just young women trying to build careers and have personal lives… but also princesses”. Vogue was the lucky recipient of that illuminating nugget of self-unawareness in an interview conducted to mark her engagement to the man with all the tequila bottles.
Still, it’s been an age since we had a royal wedding. Oh, hang on, it’s been a blink or two since Prince Harry married that attractive American divorcee with the troublesome relatives. Five months, if you wish to split hairs or indeed heirs.
Prince Harry marrying Meghan Markle was a big thing if you like sort of big thing; a bit of a bore if you didn’t. Now Harry’s 28-year-old cousin is having her bit of a royal do at St George’s Chapel in the grounds of Windsor castle. Her bash seems just as grand as that of the Duke and Duchess of Sussex (I do hope those titles are right).
Quite why the second child of the Queen’s third son needs such a lavish wedding is a mystery to anyone who isn’t a young woman trying to build a career while also being a princess.
Thousands of well-wishers are expected to line the streets, according to the BBC. But perhaps not if they’ve read the Daily Express. The Express website predicts that the wedding is going to be a “HORROR WASHOUT” (their excitable capitals, not mine).
If that suggests the sort of film where you keep your eyes closed, I guess the same thing applies with this wedding. Or it would do if I had been unlucky enough to win a ticket in the ballot to admit 1,200 members of the public.
Proud dad Prince Andrew/the Duke of York is said to have harangued the BBC about covering the event. The Beeb stuck fast in declining his kind if persistent offer, and that job now falls to ITV. Eamonn Holmes and Ruth Langsford are the lucky pair employed to wave the bunting and summon up the gravitas from somewhere or other.
George Clooney will be there, looking out for his tequila brand; and the Beckhams will be there, as they always are, looking out for their brand (hopefully David won’t break the speed limit on the way to Windsor). Robbie Williams and his missus will be there; Prince Philip might not be, depending on how he feels this morning, reportedly.
Whatever happens, it will be a lovely day for Princess Eugenie, weather horror stories excepted, just of limited interest to almost anyone else. Even the royal-groupies must be having a harder time of it. The Princess Eugenie ‘party masks’ don’t look that alluring, and the ordinary young woman princess perhaps lacks a certain sparkle.
This might all seem a bit mean, I guess. But if you struggle with supporting the main show, summoning up any enthusiasm for a royal support act is a step too far.
And what will this cost us? Reports suggest the policing bill could run to £2m and I doubt the bride’s father will be dipping his hand into his wedding trousers.
The weird thing is, if I’d been Eugenie and the tequila man, I’d have wanted a lovely quiet wedding somewhere lush and out of the public eye. Not the full-blown royal do that leaves everyone wondering, “What was all that about, then?”