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.
