The royal delivery: a preview

Kate Middleton Polka Dress Pregnant

Kate and Wills have been very generous with the global media, always smiling graciously for the cameras at a multitude of formal and informal events, and only launching a single lawsuit despite multiple invasions of privacy. We’ve seen a lot more of them than we expected over the past year or so. However, I doubt that this leniency will extend into the events in the delivery room this July, which is why I’ve outlined my personal expectations for the royal birth.

6pm. Kate arrives at the St Mary’s hospital’s maternity ward with sister Pippa and mother Carole, walking unaided and citing “mild tummy pains – please don’t make a fuss.” The nurses whisk her out of her nude LK Bennet Sledge heels and into a bespoke Alexander McQueen hospital gown, her personal hairdressers tease her mane into a ‘birthing chic’ bun, and she is guided ceremoniously into the royal birthing suite, complete with warm fluffy towels, a selection of post-birth outfits and a new set of hair brushes.

7pm. As the royal contractions begin to gather momentum, Prince Philip arrives on scene, hands Kate a small white glove embroidered with the letter ‘Q’, and apologises that the Queen cannot make the birth as one of the corgis has had an incident involving its tail and a careless footman. While the footman is being tortured and executed the Queen will be thinking of Kate and “can’t wait to meet the new heir. God speed”. Sweating slightly, her uterus contracting rather inconveniently every few minutes, Kate keeps up a bright patter of polite enquiries after Prince Philip’s health, until he gradually becomes bored and wanders off to find a nurse to sexually harass.

8pm. The contractions have reached full-swing now, and Kate is managing splendidly, only snapping once at Pippa to “Close your bloody Macbook and stop blogging about my contractions. Waitrose readers aren’t wild about your recipes, they’re not going to want to hear about my chuffing cervix.” She is wrong – the attention of the entire UK is fixed on her cervix right now – but no-one in the room corrects her as they don’t wish to receive a royal duffing up.

9pm. Kate is starting to look rather pink and is frequently asking the nurses for more drugs. Mother Carole is at her side, knitting a gender-neutral yellow baby-gro with a crown and a question mark on it. Charles and Camilla make an appearance and tell Kate that Wills is on his way in the helicopter; could Kate possibly hold the heir in for a while? Kate lets out a stream of unladylike expletives and Charles and Camilla wander off to find a new hospital ward to open.

10pm. Harry saunters into the suite with his jeans on back to front and a blonde Sloane on his arm. He grabs two plastic chairs, slides down next to the bed with his giggling companion, and says, “Sorry I’m late, I did try to call but the nurse thought I was a radio DJ and put the phone down on me. How’s it going old sport?” Kate responds with a polite snarl, and through gritted teeth forces the question: “Where. Is. Your. Sodding. Brother?” Harry gives a sudden start then looks almost thoughtful for a second but it soon becomes apparent that his blonde girlfriend is feeling him up under the bed. Kate resumes her contractions and tries to ignore the blatant foreplay now occurring by her bedside.

11pm. Wills’ helicopter lands on the roof of the hospital where a group of savvy photographers has gathered in anticipation. Wills strides politely through their flashing lightbulbs, privately wishing immediate painful death on them and all their families, and makes his way towards the Royal maternity ward. En route he encounters Prince Philip flirting with a pretty Thai nurse he has cornered. Wills rescues the nurse and steers his grandfather towards the suspiciously quiet royal birthing suite.

11:10pm. The baby is breech, Kate has passed out from trying not to make a fuss, and the doctors are urgently performing a royal Caesarian. Wills strides over to the bed, glares at Harry who is now noisily fornicating behind the curtains, and takes his wife’s hand. Carole has put down her knitting. Pippa has closed her Macbook. The room waits with bated breath, and the occasional giggle from behind the curtains.

12am. On the stroke of midnight the third-in-line to the throne is born. Kate is awake, pink and gazing down at her little bundle of joy. She decides to call her baby girl ‘Mary’, after one of her biggest fans. The Queen Skypes from the palace to send her well-wishes, amidst agonised screams and vague grinding noises in the background. Kate inquires politely after the corgi’s health. Carole attempts to curtsey via webcam. Harry has been chucked out of the hospital, but calls to say congratulations; the nurse hangs up on him again.



Hormones are a leading cause of haircuts

Kate Middleton is pregnant and nobody is happier about it than I am, not even Kate herself, who is probably loving being hooked up to a drip and chucking her guts up in hospital. She can anticipate nine months of similar activity according to the thousand other sympathetic sufferers of HG (severe morning sickness) in the comments sections on online newspapers around the world.

The first I knew of it was a million Facebook notifications as my friends raced to spread the good news on my wall, incredulous that I had actually been doing some work for once and not trawling the Daily Shit for Kate news. Pulling out my phone I had eight text messages and a voicemail, most of which tempting me with a sweepstake on the name (Mary, duh). I headed straight to the pub to celebrate with three anti-royalist fascists who listened quietly while I ranted, eyes glittering, about the future of the monarchy and the likelihood of it being a girl (Kyle: ‘What’s the likelihood of it being a baby?’) The best response was from my Dad, to whom I immediately texted the good news (‘I’m going to have one too, Dad’.)

Dad’s actual text response was 3-tiered:
1. I’ll organise a street party
2. I’ll arrange a competition to help choose his name. I know, how about “parasitic useless pointless bastard”
3. I rang the palace with my name suggestion, their flunky told me he thought I was very insulting. I replied that they started it by insulting the intelligence of 60 million citizens by suggestion that they should defer to a few average human beings who happened to have ancestors who were more venal and psychotic than anybody else’s.

I replied: ‘Unborn baby sad :(‘

Elated though I am, like thousands of other women, I wasn’t shocked. We’d all clocked the new fringe last week and splattered ‘PREGNANT????’ on our Facebook walls while men tried to notice anything different about her hair and fathom how this might relate to having a baby. Hormones are a leading cause of haircuts – so many of us go for a haircut not because we have split ends but because we’ve had a break-up or our friends hate us or we’re feeling fat. Kate’s hair has never changed except on two occasions: When she and William broke up in 2007, and last week. Something was in the water.

A final note: Does Alexander McQueen do maternity wear?

Perks of being a nice girl

What a banger

Kate Middleton’s hair is a full-bodied shiver of coffee-coloured joy, her wardrobe is a Sloane’s wet dream and her husband is a dashing good egg. We’re also obsessed with her because she’s so unfailingly nice – nothing goes to her head, not a McQueen wedding dress, the ability to make Her Majesty chuckle in public, two royal tours – nothing! I too used to be a nice girl, but soon abandoned it once I realised that everyone else was having much more fun being bastards. However, there are some perks to being nice:

1. You can be naughty and get away with it because people simply cannot equate the mental image of you swinging masked and naked from a chandelier with your otherwise diffident & demure nature.

2. You never get singled out to talk in big groups of people in case you faint from fear and someone has to call an ambulance. When you do speak at large social gatherings everyone is so shocked that they nod and agree with everything you say so as not to trip off your fragile nerves and trigger a full body spasm (the bad kind).

3. You are usually able to remain friends with your exes, who are all quite insane (as a result of your courtship) and provide you with lots of writing material.

4. Customer service reps love you because you’re too nice to follow up ignored emails and impolite telephone ‘assistance.’

5. Wine makes you cry. Crying unexpectedly encourages people to give you stuff, like dangerous advice, tissues and taxis home.

6. Shop assistants love you because you never ask if they have anything in another size or return faulty items, or slap them round the chops when they sneer at you as you pay them in 20p coins.

7. The elderly love you because you help them carry their stuff, even if they don’t ask you and even if it isn’t their stuff.

8. Men love you because you listen to them talk about string and socks and batteries for hours, and you do everything they say…

9. … apart from that.

10. Your mum loves you because you always remember to call her to let her know you got home safely, even when she has been calling you all night forcing you to have long conversations with her in the club toilets (“I’m fine, I’m 25 years old, no I won’t walk home alone through a rapist-infested alley, I love you too, I have to go – I have a date with a mask and a chandelier and none of my clothes”)

Ten things that every Prince should have

Knee trembling

Harry is your typical younger brother: naughty, dirty and ginger. When he isn’t chucking snowballs at innocent pedestrians or writing me passionate love-letters, HRH can usually be found dressed in an army uniform and blowing things up. All of these things make for a perfect prince, which leads me to my latest top ten: Top ten qualities every prince should have.

1. Tufty fluffy hair. I know, I know, this is my personal obsession, not everyone’s, but trust me, all monarchs need big hair – it gives them somewhere to hide the dissenters’ bodies. According to a reliable source Henry VIII hid them in his beard.

2. A cheeky little smile. Harry’s cheeky smile has got him everything from underwear models to Jamaican dance lessons, and enhances his eligibility tenfold. There’s something about that smile that makes every woman in England want to jump on him.

3. A massive gun. Harry uses his alternately for hunting fluffy animals (ok this isn’t ideal) and protecting villages from evil dictators (yayyyy). If he ever succeeds sensible big brother William to the throne (unlikely) then he will need this gun to keep members of parliament on their toes.

4. A reliable older bother to keep him in check. It’s fine to go a little bit wild but having a nice big brother there to grab you by the scruff of the neck and tell you when to “Reign it in, you little bastard” can be very helpful, especially in the case of questionable fancy dress decisions.

5. A dog. He has seen his Grandmother walking in the grounds with the corgis, he has seen Lupo gamboling along next to his heavenly mistress. When he settles down he will undoubtedly get a dog, and we will get to see loads of pictures of him playing with the puppy. Awwww.

6. He should try his best to look like a toad, at least until you marry him. This will keep the hordes of demented and desperate women (excluding you) at bay.

7. Charm. Charm should shower from him like sparks from an eager yet faulty plug, dousing the adoring public with fiery wit and humour. Charm is reportedly all about making all other people feel like the most important person in the room, and Harry can do this just by smiling. *Pleasurable shudder*

8. A Cinderella in the wings. Is there anything more necessary to a Prince than having a deserving love interest? Forget the foreign ambassadors’ niece, you want the chauffeur’s daughter. Ideally one who looks like Sabrina.

9. An interest in rugby and/or polo. Contact sports are crucial for venting your masculinity and aggression, and rugby and polo are Eton approved sports. Furthermore it is a brilliant excuse to wear tight shorts and get all dirty. Mmmm.

10. A huge sword. It is absolutely paramount to keep control of the population at all times by waving your weapon around threateningly and assuredly, whilst chanting “I am your King (to be)”. This shows people your importance, stature and ability to remain alert and attentive to duty at all times.

Me and Kate = Twins. Japes

May I introduce you to my other half?

Yesterday I was contemplating all of the things that stop me being Kate Middleton when I realised, good God, we have a lot in common actually! Perhaps we were separated at birth, or perhaps I am Carole’s secret love child…  Here is my ever logical reasoning:

1. Both Kate and I have a scar. Kate’s is on her head from a childhood operation, perhaps to insert her ‘attract a royal’ chip. Mine is on my knee, from when my big toe went numb from wearing pointy shoes too much and I fell over.

2. Both Kate and I attend social occasions unhealthily dosed with a spattering of our exes; me, every other week, Kate… just her wedding day. Awkward.

3. Both Kate and I have a secure family unit. Kate’s mother and father live and work together and still haven’t killed each other. My parents fondly recount the days of their courtship (Mum: “Your Dad took me swimming on our first date. He swam 40 laps while I hovered at the shallow end trying not to get my hair wet”. Dad: “She cruelly tricked me into marrying her”). They regularly warn me off marriage, although they ‘love each other really’ which is reassuring.

4. Kate is married to her prince. I am married to my desk.

5. Kate is dressed by top designers like Sarah Burton and  Alice Temperley. I am dressed largely thanks to the January sales, which, did they not take place, would result in me being naked most of the time.

6. Kate has loads of money. I have loads of (student loan) debt. This may sound like a difference rather than a similarity, but really, it’s the same thing – I bet we both think about money all the time.

7. Kate has a black cocker spaniel puppy. I used to have two black Labrador puppies, Monty the Terrible and Finn the Angelic.

8. Neither of us can eat when we’re stressed. However, when we do eat, we eat different things; she has quail eggs and champagne, I have cheese, biscuits, tomatoes and freddos.

9. We both do our own make-up. Kate even did her own for her wedding day. I get offers all the time from make-up artists dying to cover up my face but I say no – when the country is in a recession it would be unfair for me to flaunt my exposure to the Boot’s make up assistants.

10. We both appreciate a good blow dry. Kate likes hers long and bouncy with curls at the ends, I like mine done by someone else so that it looks normal.

Kate Middleton pregnant? Fat chance

Kate plays hide the heir

Poor Kate. She only has to hold her clutch bag over her midriff for people to whisper “Could it be? Is Kate pregnant?”. Now I would like to see a McQueen-clad baby with a Middleton Mane as much as the next person, but it is highly unlikely. If Kate becomes pregnant she will be forced to forfeit all her lovely dresses and start shopping in the Debenhams maternity section, and what if deranged members of the public try to touch her bump for good luck? I know I would. To assist Kate, I have thought of eight excellent ways to put off getting pregnant, at least until she tires of her magnificent McQueen gowns (never, never…)

1. Tell William that it’s ‘that time of the month’, every week. If he starts to twig, start talking about feminine hygiene and toxic shock syndrome until, like every man on earth in a similar situation, he runs from the room screaming.

2. Watch graphic videos of women giving birth every day (in-between royal social engagements, obviously). When you close the bedroom door each night, re-imagine all the blood and placenta until the thought of having sex makes you feel physically ill.

3. Have a chastity belt custom-made by McQueen. This brand specialises in beautiful yet uncomfortable clothes, so request something extra spiky like a live piranha to dissuade Wills’ wandering hands (“Something bit me!”)

4. Use contraception. This might sound an obvious option, but the Queen will not be leaving packets of Durex around with Harry on the loose. You may have to fashion your own from sausage skin and vinegar. Good luck.

5. Artificially impregnate a Kate lookalike. She can wear tents and go to all the ‘Mummy and Daddy to be’ meetings with Wills while you strut your stuff at film premieres and national trips abroad wearing lush, tiny dresses which show off your impossibly skinny frame. Yes, the press will talk, but you are really providing them with TWO Kate Middleton’s and therefore doing them a massive favour.

6. Pretend you’re lying next to Prince Charles. Done.

7. Get your sister to carry out your conjugal duties for you. If she is a good sister she will do as she is told. Also, brothers talk to each other about these things, so you will be giving Harry a preview and doing Pippa a favour in the long run.

8. Imagine that you have just given birth to a beautiful baby girl. The public love you, and her, and you are a blissfully happy mother. Now imagine 20 years down the line. You’re filling in your wrinkles with polyfiller each morning and Sarah Burton has stopped begging to dress you. The press have finally lost interest… but hark, who is this angelic, pretty replacement, swanning about town in tiny clothes and chatting up rich totty at the races? Ah, it’s your daughter. Here you have two choices: Go all wicked Stepmother and hire a contract killer a la Snow White, or DON’T HAVE A BABY.

Top tips on how to bag a Prince (take note, Pippa)

Hold on tight

Ever since Pippa Middleton broke up with her long-term boyfriend Alex Loudon back in November, I’ve been dying to see her hook up with the other eligible prince. How fitting would it be for both Middleton sisters to join ‘the firm’ together?

Pippa, here is your exclusive guide on how to bag Harry:

1. Wear your bridesmaids dress every day to remind him of your lovely bottom. Never wash it so it doesn’t lose its ‘wedding’ aura.

2. Follow him round all day every day so he doesn’t forget you exist. Even to Afghanistan where you can use your white bridesmaids dress to reflect the sun and blind his enemies.

3. Tell him every day how much you love ‘Gingers’, munching ginger nuts and carrots and raving about Mick Hucknall until you are blue in the face.

4. Pretend that you love people who dress up as Nazis because it’s “totes amusing”

5. Kill Chelsy Davy. Obviously.

6. Wear glass slippers everywhere, even in strong sunshine which will probably cook your feet in their little greenhouses. Men love helpless women who can’t walk.

7. Hypnotize small animals so that they fly around your head chirping all day. Men love women who are in tune with nature, it is extremely Princessy – unless the birds poo on you, then they must be assassinated.

8. Eat a poisoned apple and lie writhing in pain on his doorstep until he rescues you and snogs you senseless. IMPORTANT: Ensure Harry is not off fighting in Afghanistan when you are curled up in agony at the palace gates.

9. Prick your finger on a spindle and pretend to fall into a deep sleep. When he finds you looking angelically unconscious and naturally tries to take advantage,  ‘wake up’ and explain that now he has to marry you or else you’ll tell the press what a naughty boy he is.

10. Tell him you are actually a mermaid (red-headed, natch) with limited time left to live on land. Tell him that unless he wants you to return to live under the sea with your controlling father and lose your lovely bottom under the nasty green fish scales, he must marry you to break the sea-witch’s spell. If he is disbelieving, accuse him of being ‘unprincely’ – Princes hate this. If he calls the men in white coats, put both your legs into one leg of a pair of green tights and gabble about not being able to breathe without gills – this will ensure a nice long stay in the asylum which would look terrible for the royal family.

Kate Middleton’s new puppy Lupo – unleashed

Just when I thought I couldn’t want Kate Middleton’s life any more, she receives a gorgeous black cocker spaniel puppy for her birthday (recently confirmed to be called “Lupo”). He can be seen trotting along next to them on the beach here. His huge ears make him seem even tinier as he gambols alongside next to them… wait what’s this I see, no dog leash?!!! This puppy must have had special royal training because, from my experience with labradors and cocker spaniels, they usually have a hellish naughty streak – especially when sand/wellies/other animals are around.

When we took our black labrador Monty to the beach, it was beyond bedlam. Monty loved seagulls and children and sand castles and sticks and seaweed. When the leash went on, he saw it as his personal challenge to make us work as hard as possible to keep hold of the other end, whether this meant throwing his hundred-pound body towards small children playing in the sand, or wrapping himself around the wooden pier stakes. One saving grace – he hated the sea, so at least we didn’t have to worry about him accosting innocent swimmers (not that people dared to swim in the sewer that is the Blackpool coast).

In fact, the only thing worse than taking Monty to areas where other people were trying to relax was taking him to the vets. He used to do the cartoonish sitting-on-the-pavement-and-being-dragged in performance. The final time we took him, he did a huge poo in reception then sat there looking tired and proud.

I’ve come to the conclusion that Kate’s puppy is definitely not real – if it was a real puppy it would surely be eating seaweed, throwing it up again and hounding the seagulls. The little puppy must therefore be:

a. A Robodog

b. Prince Harry’s secret love-child in a cunning disguise

c. A ghostly looking photographic smudge

Kate Middleton and McQueen: The ultimate collaboration?

A McQueen Dream

Out of all Kate Middleton’s stunning ensembles, my personal top three are all Alexander McQueen / Sarah Burton creations: Her lilac gown worn with Jimmy Choos, her black strapless velvet creation worn for the ‘Millies and, of course, her stunning wedding dress which is in the running for the Design of the Year award.

Some stars and public figures have ‘go-to’ designers for every occasion, designers whose creations tend to suit the wearer’s personality and style, and which are always event appropriate. Audrey Hepburn had Givenchy, and Kate seems to return again and again to McQueen for dresses to wow at the most important, glitzy occasions. With her slim frame, Kate knows that the signature McQueen dress will instantly create an ultra feminine shape whilst ramping up the glamour and creating a stand-out look to set her apart from everyone else there.

1. The wedding dress

Long awaited, this stunning Sarah Burton creation works for Kate in four key ways: a. The corseted bodice emphasises Kate’s incredible waist, b. the padded hips add feminine curves and add further emphasis to her waist c. The delicate lace complements the sweetheart neckline and covers her up appropriately for the regal ceremony and d. the traditional – yet modest – train and veil make the dress oh-so occasion appropriate. Look-alike tops and dresses are everywhere, but if you want to channel Kate without looking like a demented wannabe bride, choose a black or coloured version such as this Asos dress  or H & M’s structured top (on sale!)

2. The lilac gown worn to the Hollywood BAFTA’s

Falling to the floor in simple yet elegant pleats and cinched at the waist with a beautiful glittery belt, this lilac dress exuded glamour and elegance – a tricky combination to pull off. Kate kept the accessories elegant too, with her trademark clutch and not-so-trademark Jimmy Choo sandals. Kate and Will were the irrefutable stars of the event, and by opting for this pastel toned, floor length, understated dress she indicates an awareness that she doesn’t need to try to get noticed using her clothes. A more ambitious gown would have risked looking too showy, gaudy or attention seeking – SO not Kate. Copy-Kate versions are few and far in-between – why not try a more wearable version such as this pretty lilac Asos dress?

3. The black strapless gown worn to the Military Awards

Black, while an understated colour, was a bold choice for such a dramatically styled dress. Kate proves that black needn’t be aging when worn with the right accessories and natural hair and make-up. Once again, her waist is cinched in with strong tailoring, and, unusually, so is the skirt, with a fish-tail finish creating a curvier-than-usual figure for Kate whilst still emphasising her slimness. Unless you have an awards ceremony coming up, an exact copy of this dress would probably sit in your wardrobe unworn; I found a great lookalike version from H&M at £15 in the sale but can’t find it online. Here’s a pretty style from Asos, or a more clingy and daring version. Falling just below the knee with sweetheart necklines, these dresses are perfect if you want to channel her Millies outfit without being too overdressed. Team with nude heels and a glitzy cardigan to make it even more wearable.

Duchess for a day

When someone asks you “Please can we style you and do your make-up like Kate Middleton and pay you for it?” there can be only one answer. I begged my manager for the day off and he was merciful, and my royal adventure began.

With a million directions on post-it notes for my trepidatious journey into London, I set off yesterday morning to the photo studios of The Sun newspaper office. Picking post-it notes out of my hair, I introduced myself and promptly blurted out everything I knew about Kate Middleton to a frightened journalist who pretended to admire my replica Middleton engagement ring before calling the police.

“Is your blog about Kate?” the journalist asked. “Well there is one about things that her waist is smaller than and one about how big her hair is and all the problems it could cause the average woman”. “Right.” said the journalist.

Next stop: Hair and make-up. There was a tense moment when the make-up artist went for my eyebrows (which are extremely volatile and take many hours to tame in the morning) but she made them look more natural with paint than they do without (not hard).

Roll on the next day and there we were on p23, the copy-Kates of 2012. Colleagues congratulated me (“Deranged, darling” and “20 pages too late, ho ho ho”) and family expressed their pride (My severely anti-royalist, anti-Murdoch Dad: “The shame” and my Aunty: “We fear for your mental health”). As for me, now I know how it feels to have the bright lights shining in your face while someone dashes forth to move a lock of hair an inch to the right and the photographer bellows “GORGEOUS DARLING, GORGE-OUS”… it’s empty and shallow, and brilliant.