Billed Bladet #40: Opening of Parliament

BB's cover says "I'm taking care of myself" below Mary even though in the corner it sneakily says "doctors ready for an early birth". Fail, Mary! BB's on to you! Note that Mary is taking care of herself rather than the babies. Recent coverage of Mary lambasting Fred's drinking problem, while justified, is going to stress-tox those babies' bloodstreams ...



So, where's the radiance? Looking through her Crown Bitchesses of Europe Slam Book the other night, Mary noticed that one thing all of these "naturally maternal whores" (Mary's thoughts are as vulgar as her appearance) had in common was a hand or two on their super fat pregnant bellies. Hm, perhaps a tip I can borrow?, she thought. Drats. Doesn't work on a woman with overflowing cleavage and signs of irregular irradiation and whose head might as well be transparent, revealing her thought process: "cock head to the right, tongue down against jaw, mandible in, pull up that double chin, Mary, that's it, look wistful, this is a good shot". And somehow, those fishscaling Scotch hams across the pregnant belly don't quite carry the Motherhood Icon stamp of aesthetic approval ...



BB tries to describe the "hectic week" of the crown princess in a little photo essay. Hmmm, grabbing a bouquet of flowers from a (nother) scared child, posing in front of an art display and preening in a handful of locations throughout Copenhagen that were reached by chauffeured car do not a hectic week make, Mary. Try doing that for 40 hours/week with no nannies, no chefs, no chauffeurs, regular parking constrictions and no private secretary. Not so easy, izzit?



BB's smart to let Mary have the Fashion pages to herself this week. Careful what you wish for, Mares! She turns up the sexpot heat in a clingy, shiny lace dress the colour of her settlement from the DRF in a few years. Note the juxtaposition: older ladies, and a bit of burlesquey suspender action right nearby. What Mary is not sensitive to is that the more Marie turns up looking fresh and practical in sensible tweeds and tailored frocks, the more Mary (who is older) looks like mutton dressed as lamb. We love BB's "between the images" evocations and messages ...





A flashback into BB's archives! It ostensibly looks as if they are comparing Mary's twins to a set of royal twins from way back, but the real power of the older pages is the nostalgia for the days when dignified royals married other dignified royals and royal dames were classy. And that is a look that invites a gentle, royal, tsssk tsssk at Diminished Mary - for, in addition to being a bogan arriviste, Mary these days carries a little tag-cloud of "drunk husband ... dishevelled, disobedient children ..."



Mary's doctors are on stand-by, living in a hospital apartment to be ready for the twins. It'll be interesting to see whether Amber Petty pulls a similar stunt to earlier births, claiming that Mary, rather than thanking the delivery team and interacting with those present, hops on the phone to bitch & boast to her Bandido Buddy in Adelaide from the birthing bed while the gynie is still stitching ...





Li'l Frederik escaped from the big scary Paragon of Pro-ANA Motherhood, still smarting from the news that new babies in da tummy means three more years before he will be free to hang out in crack-dens again, and went rehab-riding in the forest with mates. Bit of substitute leaf in the form of forest leaves should do Fweddie much good, but Fred, you need to pedal harder to get rid of your man-boobs!



Strained smiles all around for the members of the Danish Royal Family upon encountering a most oddly costumed Mary for the opening of Parliament. A micro-mini bulky tweed coat over Mary's never-fabulous legs, exaggerated when Mary affected a ground-level curtsey to Henrik. One can only surmise that Mary was copying the aristocratic Princess Marie, but thought that getting her lady-in-waiting to quickly raise her hem by four inches - to treat the public to glimpses of her upper thigh while curtseying - might deflect attention from Marie. As luck would have it, Marie showed up in a superb grey costume and a tiny pillbox hat, leaving Mary to try to cheek-kiss clumsily past a massive brim. Joachim's raised eyebrows and his and Marie's frozen smiles said so much. As a true noble, Joachim is trying hard to convey interest but ends up looking as if he is a host who is indulging a very tedious guest. Even always composed Benedikte has - in solidarity - matched their expressions, all of them waiting for this moment with Crown Princess Mary to end! Meanwhile, Mary with her touch of her daddy's Aspergers, truly believes she brightens up the day for all present. Once inside the venue, poor Fred's febrile face collapsed into misery and he ignored her completely, while Joachim and Marie interacted and smiled and conferred ...





Phew! The colour cavalcade that is Mary's blue trimmed speckled coat, black hat, burgundy purse and overall tension are graciously relieved by the full page presence of the serene and lovely Alex, still serving Her Majesty The Queen by officially opening breast cancer month. Alex, like Marie, is not afraid to get real. She mentions that she herself is nervous about the possibility of such a frightening diagnosis. The only time, one should mention to Madam the Countess of Monpezat, one could appropriately mention oneself in a speech: showing solidarity through universal vulnerability, not through cutesy-poo, made-up anecdotes of one's dream world.





Well, well! Daisy and Marie sharing a two page spread, both looking smashing in their serious dark suits and humble expressions, both followed by obedient husbands. Two of a kind! Read between the lines, Mary! Sure, your crippled dwarflet hubby walks behind you these days, but somehow the impression ain't the same!





Oh, this poor girl is living in a Victorian children's moral tale. She is being manhandled by the Man Hands and the Wax Face and the eyes that seem to want to eat her. That's actually not a deliberate expression on Mary's face - all she and the twins have had this week is a celery stick and rice cracker. The poor child is desperately trying to stab the beast with a little tranquiliser shot to the arm. Godspeed, dear fraulein! Don't worry, your mama will comfort you in the middle of the nights to come, and help you through the night terrors ...



Is it just coincidence that Mary's inconsequential visit to the German hinterlands is best reported near the silly games section? 3 Across: Term for vapid, destructive, royal interloper. Oh, and lookie!!! Mary too proudly poses with more freebies for the kiddos!! As long as there are freebies, Mary doesn't notice that she gets the second rate gigs while Marie's star is rising daily with international gigs and normal, unforced, lady-of-the-manor motherhood.



In the Royal Mailbag, a reader asks if both men and women can inherit the throne of Norway. Of course, the answer is yes, as darling Ingrid Alexandra will have that illustrious task after her father's reign. In all Scandinavian countries, it is the firstborn who reigns, no matter the gender. Sorry, Denmark! A response to a letter regarding Princess Alexandra of SWB and her husband Count Jefferson reminds us that the erupting Icelandic volcano kept them from joining the festivities surrounding Daisy's 70th birthday party, and therefore they weren't in the room when Mary Donaldson tongued Cousin Fred on live television and nearly made Princess Maxima choke on her water. Maxi probably filled them in at the Greek wedding where their handsome son Richard was an attendant.



Royal Roundup. Princess Eugenie hams it up; Mette Marit heads to Italy to support the Norwegian designer for Pucci; Queen Rania had a heart condition scare; Victoria wore a very cute coat from H&M that cost less than $100! Way to shop, madam!





Mary was recently seen wearing a necklace from Ole Lynggaard depicting a cartoonish penguin that seems to be shitting daggers. With that patronising portrayal of an emblem of her husband's "cherished" Greenland, Mary is making quite a statement with what is no doubt a freebie from her new favourite jewelry house.



TV Baroness Caroline Fleming's little sister Baroness Louise, or Duddi as the family calls her, has given birth to her first child, a girl. The sisters live just ten minutes from each other in London and Duddi gave birth at Portland Hospital (like Diana, eat your heart out Mary!) and had a Caesarean. Real nobles are too posh to push, unlike greased and wide open Pictish pelvises!



A few bits and pieces next to the royal calendar, including Caro & Bendtner's ELLE cover and a photo of Benedikte christening a boat. Freddie is making a run for it during a couple of days that he and Mary stayed at Marselisborg in Aarhus while she "worked". There's another photo of Mary laughing at a German peasant whose hat was nearly blown off by the wind.



Frex Ex Malou was out on the town with her mother recently. You can see the gorgeous Danish apple does not fall far from the tree.



The Mary-sanctioned Ole Lynggaard opened a boutique in Copenhagen. Friend of Fred (FoF) Holger Foss and his wife, prima ballerina Rose Gad were in attendance. You can recognise Rose's fur cuffs from the time when she lent them to Mary Donaldson after Mary had moved up to Copenhagen in 2002 to stalk Fred and Rose had to take Mary to Tivoli on a babysitting errand. Rose must not have enjoyed herself much because this is one wife of the FoF-ies who does NOT hang out solo with Crown Princess Mary. Mother of Mary's ruined former Navision boss and now former Verbier chalet owner, Anne Fabricius-Bjerre was also in attendance.

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.