Royally Obsessed

The story of a yellow dress and a celebrity memoir

"Please don't do it," my husband said as he rolled his eyes.

"I know, I know," I replied. "I guess you're right. It would be a complete waste of money."

"Yes. I think it's time to get over it."

"But it's so hard."

"Haven't you had enough?"

I felt my chest tighten. Was it anxiety? No. It was the kind of pressure that appears underneath my rib cage when I really want something. It was the sensation of yearning. Yearning for what? Picture this. You're in a mall. You're on the third floor heading towards Banana Republic, because you want to take a closer look at a yellow silk dress you noticed in the window the other day. You walk past Guess and Nine West. Don’t even think about it, you tell yourself. Don’t even look at the shoes and keep moving honey. You walk past the jewelry store on the corner. Is your cousin working there today? You don’t see a broad-shouldered bald guy in a black suit, so no. Then your mind wanders to an old friend. Oh, how you miss that friend dearly. You wish you could see that friend, have a chat, grab a coffee. Then, as you pass the Calvin Klein underwear boutique before making your way down to the second floor where Banana Republic is, the friend you were thinking about seconds ago suddenly appears in front of you. Your heart skips a beat. Oh my God, you think, it’s so weird I was just thinking about you. And so you hug your friend and say hey, I'm on my way to Banana to check out a dress I really want. Wanna join?

That was fifteen years ago. This week I'm yearning for something, and it's not a yellow dress. I'm trying really hard to be sensible here. As my wise husband suggests, perhaps it's time I move on. Keep my money. Preserve my energy, or better yet, dedicate my energy to other things, more productive things, like that novel I'm supposed to be writing.

Switch the dress for a book and you've got yourself a thirty-five year-old woman desperately obsessing over the new Prince Harry memoir. I really want it. I want to know everything, tell me everything Prince Harry! Take my money already. Quick! Before I change my mind.

I'm embarrassed to admit how fascinated I am by the Royal Family. I'm half Québécoise and half Scottish. Historically and genetically speaking, the monarchy shouldn’t take up this much space in my life. I’m aware of the awful impact British imperialism has had on colonized nations and peoples - people who never asked to be colonized and treated so terribly. I don't think elected officials here in Québec should be swearing allegiance to the King before taking office. Yes, I know, it’s part of the Canadian Constitution, and yes, I know we’re part of the Commonwealth, but shouldn’t elected officials swear allegiance to the Québécois people? I know Buckingham Palace dances a toxic PR dance with the British press and leaks stories about the family to avoid worse truths to surface. And don't get me started on Prince Andrew. Despite all this, I can't help myself. I don’t know why. I cried when the Queen died. It was more than a few tears. I sobbed, as in ugly cried with my mouth open and had to blow my nose several times. Please don’t tell anyone about this. 

I’ve been getting up early to watch royal weddings and funerals since I was ten. I try to keep off Instagram as much as possible, but I always fail because I want to see what the fashion experts have to say about royal outfits (like

Elizabeth Holmes

excellent So Many Thoughts IG account). Did you know there’s a lot of thought that goes into every wardrobe choice? It’s so interesting to break down. I yelled at my kid during the Oprah interview because he accidentally sat on the remote and changed the channel. It wasn’t my proudest parenting moment. Were you silent or were you silenced is one of my favourite moments in TV history. The Meghan and Harry documentary? Binged it in record time. The only other series I watch over and over again, apart from Star Trek and Seinfeld, is The Crown. 

Those who know me well won’t be surprised to read that I've always been obsessed with pop culture and celebrities. I watched Entertainment Tonight religiously as a child. I’ve been around long enough to realize that celebrities come and go. I barely recognize the new faces in Hollywood anymore. Who is Florence Pugh and why is everybody talking about her? The Royal Family, however, are more than celebrities. They're forever. The show always goes on with them. The curtain never comes down. They’re a 24/7 storytelling family. They’re a thousand-year epic we weirdly can’t get enough of (and by we, I mean I). There’s constantly a narrative, an angle, a scandal, an attempt at redemption, a hidden meaning behind an outfit choice. Just when you think it’s all over for them - no, they’ll never recover from this, this has to be the end of the story - BAM! A new character enters the room. A new plot twist emerges. And so we stick around to see what happens next. For better or for worse, the Royal Family is an ever present entity, through thick and thin, through peaks and troughs, kind of like an old friend.

Ah, the comfort of an old friend. Friendships die sometimes. I still don’t know if I’ll move on or buy the book. All I know is this: the yellow dress hanging in my closet doesn’t fit anymore.