Billed Bladet #39: Marie for the win!

"This is where we'll live" says the cover. Funny how BB is spending more cover real estate advertising for the Matador/Krøniken DVD that comes free with this issue than discussing how cute Mary's kids are. Of course, the kids aren't helping matters when Xian does his impression of his dull-faced, on-all-fours Daddy the night the kid accidentally walked in on More's monthly night of amorous relations, and Izzy is pretending not to know anyone there. Note that Xian's usually chillingly small pupils have been photoshopped to make him look less cold ... and the pale blue has been turned more like the cornflower blue of the British royal family. Who knows? Perhaps the kids' real eye colour is Mary's, sort of liminal Ayrshire cattle-pond, or perhaps the decade-old dregs of some Carlton Draught drying up in a can under a bush in the backblocks of Hobart ...

It's the Week's Fashion feature but where's Mary? Alas for Mary, despite her efforts to focus on looking thin, BB has quite correctly declined to endorse starving the fetuses, to give them a fighting chance when they encounter Xian Ceaucescu Mugabe Amin hovering above their cradle. Oh! What do we see? Why, there's gorgeous Marie in a Malene Birger jacket looking fresh, unfussy and fine. Marie is starting to qualify for the "Our Marie" moniker, in the tradition of "Our Victoria", "Our Alex" and of course, "Our Katja" ... so here's Marie, unselfconsciously delighting the fashion world with her unpretentious, "on the mark" style. So sorry, Mary! You had your chance to shine, and chose instead to scratch a "scrubber, bogan label victim" across your brand ...





Caroline Fleming says "I'm so crazy about my life"! The 35 year old TV Baroness "loves being a mother, doing television and now has a new cookbook", which she's dreamed of writing since she was a teenager! Mary can't even boil water! Hm, no cooking skills and a paunchy body back when she lived in Oz means Mary must have subsisted on a diet of instant soup, microwaveable Chinese, and purloined bread rolls from the rare business lunches her long series of bosses occasionally thought she might be suitable for! (Why does Victor Hugo's Cosine come to mind in terms of bread? Or is that Mary's little great-great-granny turning scotch baps on the fire, and Scotch memes pouncing on Mary's early-aging genes with relish)

"Style-sure Marie". A gallery of the fun, fashionable and feminine outfits that Marie wore in Brasil. It's like they don't want us to forget this new Danish ambassador! What's funny is that BB can't name one label that Marie is wearing - probably because she doesn't wear labels! Marie's own initials are enough.





Adorable lille prins Henrik is "ready for preschool"! How utterly, normally Danish to send him to school at such a young age. Very good for his socialisation, unlike with cousin Xian Amin Mugabe Ceausescu Beelzebub who had to wait before he was ready for school, and his child colleagues could outwit him and run to the teacher's apron strings. The official line was that Mary was such a loving mum that she wasn't eager to let him go. We know better. Big mistake, Margrethe! You should have sent Christian to an English prep school, followed by Gordonstoun, followed by the Navy, which always provides a healthy substitute for a missing father-figure. Anyway, Henrik at all of about two years of age was perfectly behaved and curious at his recent visit with Maman Marie to the children's fair where he demonstrated that he knew how to share with other children. Contrast that with weird Christian demonstrating a taste of his domestic bad behaviour (ADD? Aspergers? Or clueless parents? Has to be one of them!) in public the other day. Henrik will be the first of Joachim's children to attend a preschool in Møgeltønder, signalling the family's commitment to their southern Denmark hometown. No Copenhagen snob in the making here! The provinces, Marie knows, are beautiful and actually quite far from backwards. This ain't no Tasmanian suburb! Regular children as playmates will do for Marie's kiddos. Again, contrast that with the little crocodile of rich kids allowed in the tradesman's gate to Christian's party, vulgar shop-wrapped pressies held by the nannies.





Bully Bear: "Hi Pingo!" (Guess Mary looks like Fred now!)
Joachim: "Next time, we're paying for cable."
Henrik: "The snake is so me."
Elizabeth: "I prefer Philips brand now."
To Daisy & Henrik: "Let's try the list of kings again, eh?"



Marie's only identifiable clothing recently has been the Danish Malene Birger jacket she wore to a recent event. At 1,999 kroner, it's a good investment. And yet, all you see is a very beautiful young woman, not a clotheshorse! Marie wears her clothes; Mary's labels wear Mary.



Fred confides to a BB reporter that the new Amalienborg digs in Copenhagen will only be the family's winter home. Fred indicates that it will be good for the kids in the darker months when they have to stay close anyway, as opposed to the long summers when they can take advantage of the Kancellihuset country house. Fred is being strategic here: Mary will, of course, cower indoors away from the sun, frightened that a tan will make her look like a peasant. (She really doesn't get it!) So, the family's circadian clocks will have to get used to a 5pm bedtime in winter and a 12am bedtime in summer? Mary's Muchausen's Syndrome By Proxy seems to have been transferred to Fred, too!



Formally handing over the keys to the Amalienborg winter palace. Xian grabs his father's leg so tightly that he sends Daddy's already strained testes well up into his torso. Fred didn't need them anyway.





Izzy covers her ears out of a concern for her hearing. Xian seems to only imitate her for the cameras. Guess who is a total showboat copycat of his mother!?


Psst, Mary can't discipline!


Interesting mailbag this week. Photos of Fred's grandfather and the love of his life Ingrid alongside a photo of Ingrid holding a young Fred and a photo of Charles and his real love Camilla. Jeez, BB, why not just superimpose Katja already - we geddit!



Fred starting a roller-ski race.



Frex ex Malou in red plaid flannel. Most women don't look that hot in a flannie! We've seen photos of Mary in a flannie of course ... sucking on that Carlton tinnie ... all those years ago ...



Joachim promoted green, Danish cycling initiatives in car-happy China recently. Joachim can be trusted with the bigs jobs, including smoothing the rough and extra large egos of the Chinese leadership. No small task! Fred is only ever sent to Shanghai for "nice man therapeutic sessions" or as a front for rehab.



Ostensibly to buttress Mary's feelings of superiority about her half-gargoyles, BB actually runs a cute photo spread of the little Spanish infantas on their first day at school. Backfire! Oh, BB, we know what you're up to! Aren't those girls adorable? Leonor is safe from the clutches of Xian since both are firstborns, but poor Sofia is susceptible to the advances of a drunk, entitled 20-something Crown Prince Beelzebub if she is not careful! We will safely assume that Xian will fixate on blondes, due to the overwhelming presence of the nannies, as there has been no positive brunette adult female influence in his life really, other than perhaps Auntie Marie.





"Victoria is proud of her prince"! Daniel made a smashing international debut in France recently during a short tour with wife Victoria. However, it's Fred who is half-French and therefore saddened by his loss of destiny with Victoria, together visiting the birthplace of the Swedish royal family.





Need your fish tank cleaned? No better person to call than a Pictish fisherwoman and her large scrub-a-dub-dub hams!





Mary shows us how piling on the jewelry is a time-honoured trick by older women to move the eyes away from crepe-y necks, droopy jowls and wrinkly eyes and lips. Fred here is reading a registry that shows his Danish queen great-grandmother's birthplace at this castle. What a lovely family home. Meanwhile, 2000km away, Mary's scurrilous great-granny was reeling in the fish nets for the season's catch in between distilling some homemade whisky moonshine and scrubbing a mess of freckled louts in a two-inch bath of lye.