I was awakened at a ridiculous hour (4 am) by my subconscious. My alarm was set for the BBC commencement at 5 am, but my subconscious said, “You’re going to miss the processional.”
I am first grateful I am not a real Queen, because my first thought on seeing Charles and Camilla was “Robes are horribly unflattering.” I thought they might be wearing all the robes at once so they could keep dropping them like a quick-change magic act.
I was charmed by Qing Charles III’s little spread-fingered-wiggly wave. He has dropped QEII’s efficient wrist-pivot-wave. God save the King from carpal tunnel syndrome
I loved the colors: outside the blue livery and red coats and yellow-gold … well, gold … were a nice touch of color on a grey day. Then in the cathedral they employed the teal-blue red-orange gold color scheme I had planned for my wedding when I was a girl.
For some reason it bothered me every time I saw this on the closed captioning.
I think it bothered me because I am jealous. How nice to be in England where they have been around long enough that the representatives don’t have to fall all over themselves wearing American clothes and driving American cars and singing songs by American composers.
I did think it was a little tacky of Charles to have vegan oil for the Anointing after shucking off a fur-trimmed robe, but he was already mixing gem colors on his crown, so.
I then was moved to make quiche for breakfast. Lorriane, not that monstrous BEAN quiche that is the official food of the day.
God Save the King, anyway.