Meghan Markle and I Have Something in Common
Well, two things actually
Obviously, I was always going to watch the Oprah interview with Meghan Markle and Prince Harry when it aired last night. Of course, I was. Two hours of gossip, punctuated by adverts? Sign me up.
I’m not a royalist — I see the Royal Family as basically the reason we sometimes get an extra bank holiday, and don’t think about them except when a bit of the facade peels back for some reason and we catch a glimpse of something sticky and horrible behind it. You know, like that excruciating interview where Prince Andrew talked about being so frightened his sweat glands stopped working permanently (OK then), or when his daughter Beatrice once wore a pretzel instead of a hat.
But I do have a slightly softer spot for Prince Harry. I’d broken up with a high school boyfriend on the weekend of his mother Diana’s funeral in 1997, and thus I was in the “lie on the sofa with the curtains closed, eating chocolate and believing myself essentially unlovable” phase when the whole thing was televised. And so I watched it.
I watched the eerily empty London streets as the hearse crept through them, I listened to the sepulchrally reverent voiceover, and then I saw them: Princes William and Harry, both of them younger than me, trudging silently and solemnly behind the car in…
