Last week in Stockholm's Royal Palace Chapel, Her Royal Highness Princess Madeleine of Sweden, Duchess of Hälsingland and Gästrikland, married Mr Christopher O'Neil. The princess is the youngest daughter of King Carl XVI Gustaf and Queen Silvia of Sweden, and I had long cherished hopes that she would become our future Queen by marrying Prince William of Wales. I think the Queen should have got on the blower to King Carl XVI Gustaf soon after Princess Madeleine's birth to kick off negotiations for the marriage treaty. But arranged royal marriages are no longer in vogue, and the perfect opportunity for a brilliant match was missed.
Considering some of the unorthodox marriages contracted by various members of the younger generation of European royal houses, that of Princess Madeleine to Mr O'Neil is, at least, quite uncontroversial (unlike her brother Prince Carl Philip's relationship with unsuitable former "glamour model" Miss Sofia Hellqvist). Princess Madeleine was briefly engaged to a Swedish chap who turned out to be a bit of a cad. To ease her broken heart, the young princess went to live in New York, where she met Mr O'Neil. Last Saturday night was the big night. I settled down to watch the broadcast which began at 11 pm local time. It was a pleasant enough ceremony, but there were a couple moments I cringed. The scene was set by some of the guests. There were a couple of very buxom women squeezed into dresses far too small for them. Their décolletage was pushed up and out like a platter of giant jellies. Not suitable for a church to my way of thinking. The camera also showed, several times, a young man from the Swedish navy. He looked very smart in his uniform, but he was chewing gum. Every time the camera settled on him, he looked like a cow chewing her cud. At one point he had his mouth open and was pushing the gum out on the tip of his tongue. Then there was the groom's family. Mr O'Neil's mother looked like a walking display of the dangers of too much botox. She did not seem able to move her face at all and for the entire ceremony had exactly the same stunned expression her face. Sitting quite prominently with the O'Neil party was Mr Valentino Garavani, who designed the bride's frock. The dress maker in a position of pride of place? No, I don't think so.
Luckily some of the royal guest raised the tone and gave a sense of gravitas to a religious ceremony. Princess Takamado of Japan was very stylish and dignified. Crown Princess Victoria looked every centimetre the future Queen, and Prince Daniel is quite the dashing consort. As the exception that proves the rule, the King's sister, Princess Birgitta of Sweden, Princess of Hohenzollern, showed yet again the dangers of the tanning salon, and mutton as lamb. But in a royal lady this can be seen as a wonderful eccentricity, particularly if she is delightful company.
The ceremony itself was an odd mixture of Swedish and English. Are vows valid if the bride and groom make them in different languages? The Lutheran liturgy was pretty boring, but I suppose that is what happens when there is no nuptial mass. Unfortunately the music was not uniform in its excellence and appropriateness. As at the wedding of the Crown Princessely couple, a solo performance of what sounded like a sentimental love ballad took us perilously close to bogan territory. It was performed by Marie Fredriksson, the peroxide blonde half of Roxette. The next solo performance, however, took us across the border and deep into bogan suburbia.
Many years ago I used spend my weekends employed as an usher at the "religious centre" of a major university. The main chapel of this multi-faith establishment could be hired for a wedding by anybody who so wished. The university supplied an usher to open the doors, turn on the lights, and, most importantly, stop people throwing confetti after the ceremony. I would stand there, wearing my academic gown, and pounce at the first sign of any surreptitious little bits of coloured paper. It was easy money, particularly if there were three or four weddings a weekend. Religious marriages where very much in the minority, and I got to see a huge range of civil celebrants in action. Without doubt my favourite was an elderly woman, one of the first civl celebrants ever registered in Australia. She had a huge personality, and must have been quite something in her day. However by the time I knew her, civil celebrants were two-a-penny. She was not happy with this influx of new blood, and resented the loss of her near monopoly on local weddings. She also seemed to enjoy a drop or two of mother's ruin to get her through the day. Well maybe a bit more than a drop or two. I'm sure she was completely smashed at least two weddings. But her clients loved her, so no harm done. The worst celebrant was a washed up bit-part actor who just like the sound of his own voice. I cringed when I saw his name on the list, and tended to stay outside the chapel while he subjected the poor couple to his tacky idea of a ceremony.
Then there was the music. Sometimes I had to walk out mid marriage because the music was so bad I was afraid I would start to laugh. There was a pianist who often played at weddings called Joe. He had a wicked sense of humour, and we used to have a hearty laugh after a particularly awful wedding. I would never look in his direction during a ceremony as we would set each other off into a burst of guilty giggles. Joe had a list of the songs he most hated to play at a wedding, his bogan greatest hits. That brings us back to Princess Madeleine and Mr O'Neil. The second solo performer sang the Roberta Flack classic First time ever I saw your face. This used to be quite popular at bogan weddings, although many a bogan will assume it was called Misty from the motion picture Play misty for me. It is a fine song in its own right, but a bit sick making when used at a wedding. Joe had his own version of the lyrics, which was very rude. To this day I can't help laughing when I hear it. So as the princess and her banker listened all doe eyed and so in love, I was trying not to sing along with the rude lyrics I still remember from all those years ago. But it was no good, I could not help it, and I was pleased when the performance was at an end. I suppose it could have been worse. Number one on Joe's list was a song he eventually refused to play, the ever so tasteful Three times a lady. Finally, another bogan element of the Swedish wedding was the epistle from 1 Corinthians 13:4. You know the one "love is patient, love is kind…..", although bogans just think it is a poem. I have heard it at so many weddings now that for me it has become a bit of a cliche.
