Prince Harry marries an American at Windsor Castle — with lots on chat about a dress
Sun columnist Ally Ross wondered if the Rev Michael was going to eat into the Cup Final, but the occasion itself turned out to be beautiful and funny
A GINGER bloke married an American woman at Windsor Castle yesterday.
The end. Except it’s not, of course. There were hours, days, months of speculation, flannel and rumour in the build-up to my favourite Royal Wedding, partly thanks to the performance of Meghan’s dad, Thomas Markle.
Box-to-box, that bloke, and he left a gaping, unmentionable hole at yesterday’s ceremony which Dermot O’Leary, Kirsty Young, Huw Edwards and none of the enormous BBC team could hope to fill with their endless blether.
Nor, for that matter, could celebrity guests George Clooney, James Corden (what was he doing there?), David Beckham or Victoria Beckham, who had a right face on her.
But at least the famous faces stopped — for a few seconds — the dress speculation, which reached a peak of non-information before midday when Dermot threw to reporter Tina Daheley, at Cliveden House, wondering: “Has she spotted the merest hint of a clue as to the dress designer?”
“No.” She hasn’t.
With ground intelligence like that, you felt relief when the ceremony started.
‘Cos, yeah, I did think the Rev Michael was going to eat into the Cup Final, but the occasion itself turned out to be beautiful and funny.
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It was also touching to see not just the Duke of Edinburgh, but Doria Ragland lost in wonder at the British pageantry surrounding daughter Meghan.
All too quickly the magic was over, though, and the idle speculation restarted.
Like I said earlier. Ginger bloke and wife. The end.
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