The Poor Dutchess of Cambridge!

This weekend the web was absolutely flooded with news, articles and comments surrounding Kate and Will’s second child. The little princess’ birth was preceded by intense waiting. Despite the fact that her chances at reaching the throne are minimal, almost every medium spent time on it. I won’t rewrite everything that’s already been written, but I’d rather share my thoughts about the comment and hype surrounding Princess Kate. Her style and children are constantly a subject of conversation in women’s circles. They’re in the spotlight a fair bit more than most other mortals, English or Hungarian.


Many people on the web and comments section found fault with the fact that she emerged shortly after giving birth, hair straightened, face made up, wearing nude high heels. ‘Didn’t she have anything better to do?’ … And after that comment, it’s a short jump to the, ‘What kind of mother is she anyway?’ question. I think that many of these naysayers are simply, jealous. And in a small part, they’re right to be! Kate definitely looked more beautiful on the Lindo Wing’s staircase in a yellow flowered dress, than I did, for example, in the Baross Street clinic’s narrow corridor in a hospital gown, slippers, holding my newborn in the institution’s blankets. They will have this beautiful moment in their family album, while I didn’t opt to ask anyone to memorialize the moment I described above.

In any event, the ‘What kind of mom is she?’ question is interesting. Kate wasn’t given a choice as to whether or not she would stand out on that staircase, she couldn’t refuse her stylist, hairdresser and make-up artist at the hospital, the same we couldn’t ask for the opposite. When she married Will, she agreed to something bigger, namely the fact that in her life there would be a lot of choices made for her, and that she would have to behave in a manner ‘fit for a queen.’ Of course, this also comes with the luxury of never having to wash dishes, make the bed, or fritter away hours cooking. Everyone only sees the perfectly styled and set, almost gaudy moments. But behind all of this is a woman who is doing these things because they’re expected and not because she wants to, and we can’t be sure that she’s really that happy about this weekend’s perfectly portrayed moment! In fact, there’s a distinct possibility that she would switch places with us for a few days, just as much as we would like to with her!


Let’s be real — I would also be filled with joy if every morning I left the house looking flawless, and it would be wonderful if upon my arrival home there would be a hot meal prepared for everyone and in the end someone would even wash the dishes. But I didn’t marry a prince (OK, I didn’t even have a chance) and I picked a different life. A different man and a different life. There’s a big chance I won’t look perfect every day and every moment, and there’s also a chance that I wouldn’t even want to! As for the dishes, I’m definitely going to be dealing with those until the end of my days, but I’ll be making that choice every moment.

Poor Dutchess!

PS: Little George already holds his hand exactly like Grandma Queen Elizabeth when he waves. I’m curious if he practices this with his nurse or it’s just in his genes?

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