After weeks of noisy build up, we're half-heartedly picking over the Royal Wedding carcass, and mostly throwing out a big 'Well done!' to them crowned lot for their gloriously regal bash wiv a human touch. Their human touch may have been a five minute palace-to-palace drive in a 41-year-old wine-powered Aston Martin, but whatevs. It's a brave new world full of happy endings. Rejoice!
And why not? Masses of people enjoyed watching it, they held parties (street or otherwise), flocked into the capital and had a jolly old time. One of my friends made his own 'Kate & Wills' t-shirt with an iron-on transfer, despite having never previously displayed any indication of being a fan of The Firm OR arts and crafts. Seems across the board, we love a theme. We cling to St Patrick's Day with green faces and Guinness-soaked shamrock hats. We get utterly fucked watching our national football team fail on the international stage, and don't care because we're wrapped in a Union Jack and being sick on ourselves like some kind of pre-yoga Geri Halliwell. Thus, the wedding was officially OK to be interested in. We.Love.Kitsch.com.
And why not? Masses of people enjoyed watching it, they held parties (street or otherwise), flocked into the capital and had a jolly old time. One of my friends made his own 'Kate & Wills' t-shirt with an iron-on transfer, despite having never previously displayed any indication of being a fan of The Firm OR arts and crafts. Seems across the board, we love a theme. We cling to St Patrick's Day with green faces and Guinness-soaked shamrock hats. We get utterly fucked watching our national football team fail on the international stage, and don't care because we're wrapped in a Union Jack and being sick on ourselves like some kind of pre-yoga Geri Halliwell. Thus, the wedding was officially OK to be interested in. We.Love.Kitsch.com.
As someone intrinsically uncool, I'm never quite sure what the rules are. I go mushroom hunting with my dad. I saw two fully grown men wearing suits ride skateboards today. I enjoy an occasional jigsaw. Charlie Sheen appears to be committing suicide slowly and publicly. One, all, or none of these things may be cool. Is it okay to buy a Catherine & William plate as long as you do it in an ironic living-in-Shoreditch-wearing-fashion-spectacles way? I don't think I understand irony. Buying a plate with royal people on it ironically is still buying a plate with royal people on it, no? You still paid money, it's still in your house quietly mocking you.
Sadly, my tentative enquiries seem to point to jigsaws not quite making the grade. Perhaps this bank holiday I should have been supping lattes with my meedja pals yah, but I have been sat in my flat, giving myself backache hunching over seventeen shades of blue sky and swearing just as colourfully. Incidentally, sky that is now slightly brown because I spilled my not-a-latte-coffee on it (yes, it is a constant source of wonder to me that I ended up with a job that by a lot of people's standards is Pretty.Frickin.Cool.)
Oh I do it sometimes right enough - I've bought a £15 cocktail while mincing round in a pair of Louboutins, making out like it's NOBIGDEAL. I get a tiny highschoolfuckyou kick when I swan into some party or other waving a wristband. The same instinct that almost (almost) made me tell off the boy for whipping out the camera in a beautiful restaurant recently, because that was giving the game away. Thank fuck I didn't, because he then whipped out a shiny ring and who gives a crap about the game then?
But as I say: I don't know the rules.
But as I say: I don't know the rules.
No comments:
Post a Comment