The Royal We
As we say in Boston, it is wicked hot this week, and there are roughly five minutes of summer left, so it seems timely to sneak in the ultimate summer reading book in right under the wire, right? Ladies and...okay, mostly ladies, please meet The Royal We. That I loved this book should come as no surprise to those of you who either know me or who have been paying attention. I’m deeply committed to the guilty pleasure found in bad movies, so when The Prince and Me came out some 13 years ago, I’d say I was predisposed to love it - and that was before I became a librarian. There’s a stacks smooch scene, duh. (See also: lawn mower racing, 796.1)
Chances are if you identified as female or were really into fashion, weddings, royalty, Britannia, and so on in 2011, you probably got up hella early (in my time zone or west o’me) and had tea and scones as you watched the entire royal wedding, all before heading into work where it was discussed and dissected in great detail, allllll day, amongst any and all women, young, older, younger, and older. It led to many a rolled eye amongst the male population at my American high school (but they totally loved the pictures of Pippa’s bum, just admit it, dudes). If you were in the UK, you were probably three champagne toasts in by the time I was vigorously debating lace detailing and flower girls with no less than three fifteen year old girls in braces, two secretaries and science teachers, an English teacher, and a custodian. It was a great unifier, so I hope you’re taking note, North and South Korea.
Remember how fun that was, you guys? We attended a wedding that we really didn’t, of a couple we all totally know but don’t, and then we broke it all down like sportscasters. SO FUN. Wills, Kate, Harry, Pippa, Pippa’s bum...I mean. Come on. The gossip game, like Kate’s hair, was on point, and the fairy tale aspect off the chain (trees in the cathedral! trees in the cathedral!). It was glorious.
And then we went on with our lives, unless say, your life involves a weekly post on royals ‘round the world on your terrific, funny, and highly readable blog, Go Fug Yourself. If you’re those ladies, you got busy writing about all the things we mere bush league players speculated about from the day the princes suddenly emerged from the palace ovens as total biscuits (scones?) and locked down their places in the glossy pages of teen magazines (you guys remember those glossy hand-held things we had when the Internet was potty training, right?).
Behold, the best book to happen to your travel bag, at least in 2015:
