Happy Royal Baby!

By Daisy Buchanan on July 24th, 2013 1 comment

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An approximation of what may or may not  happened in the Lindo Wing yesterday, based on several press releases I have received

“Mmmmm,” murmured Kate, looking around the room sleepily and reflectively. “I’d really like some chips. Really greasy ones, with loads of vinegar.”

“Sure thing, Duchess,” grinned Will. “How about I go to that place on the Edgware road?”

“Do be careful out there!”

“I’ll be fine – I’ll use the escape hatch. I’ll be quick!” Will wanted to get back to his beautiful bride and baby as soon as possible. He also wanted to make sure Kate wasn’t left alone for too long, lest she sign anything confirming the baby name as Princess Consuela Bananahammock. He had thought she was joking, but then, she was still feeling the effects of gas and air.

“Chips! CHIPS! No time for chips! How will you ever lose all that baby weight if you eat chips?” The mysterious, disembodied voice seemed to boom and trill simultaneously. It belonged to a man who, at first glance, appeared to be Karl Lagerfeld. He wore a onesie adorned with tiny Union Jacks, each formed from thousands of miniature Swarovski crystals.

“Um, hello, are you with the hospital? Don’t think we’ve met. I’m William.” Will grinned sheepishly as protocol kicked in.

“I am Davide. This is Sebastian – grooming. And Katya – hair setting. Alice – hair polishing. Ivan for nails, Ben for face make up, Sydney for eyelashes and Sidney for eyebrows.” A line of people stood waiting, each clutching a silver attaché case bigger than the last person’s silver attaché case.

“I, ah, um, er, may I get you something to drink?”

“NO NEED!” shrieked Davide, flicking the locks on the most enormous attaché case of all to reveal many, many cartons of Vita Coco.  He directed his attentions at Kate. “First,  the hair. You had hair that once made the editor of Figaro cry! Hair envied by Kim Sears, girlfriend of Andy Murray, and World No 2 in the world of hair! Now it is your hair that looks No 2. So lank! So greasy! What happened?”

“Well, you start to sweat really heavily when the contractions begin, and…”

“SILENCE!” whispered Davide, visibly shocked by the concept of a perspiring woman. “It is OK. We restore you to loveliness with Shu Uemura Cashmere Shampoo, £27 for 100 ml, and Frederic Fekkai Jasmine Shaft Serum, available from Space NK. ”

“What about a leave in masque?” suggested Katya, timidly.

“THERE IS NO TIME,” rejoined Davide.

As the magical hair and beauty elves set to work on Kate with Giant Sleep Rollers, as worm by Mollie from the Saturdays, Davide started talking wardrobe.

“I have this – classic,” he said, holding up a vintage midnight blue Roland Mouret Galaxy dress. “The same that Winslet wore to the Oscars. A good dress, if you are British and your name is Kate. But obviously, you will need shapewear.” He tossed her a pack of Spanx Punishers, eyeing her belly with disdain.

Kate drew herself up to her full 5″10. “That’s very kind of you, but I’d prefer not to…oh, William, TELL HIM!” Davide’s face said he wasn’t going down without a fight.

Will set his jaw to its most diplomatic jut. “We both talked about this – all of this – and we decided that we wanted it to be fairly low key. My wife has just had a baby. No-one expects her to have a tan and mascara and whatnot. She was just going to wear this.” He gestured to a dark, shapeless garment hanging on the back of the door.

Davide felt the material between thumb and forefinger and sniffed. “A Topshop beach dress! From Spring/Summer 2006? Purchased, if I’m not mistaken, in the sale!?” Oh, no. Oh, no, no, no.” The ball was in Davide’s court. With a flourish, he pulled a pretty blue polka dot Jenny Packham dress out of his sleeve. Kate fell upon it.

“No Spanx?” she frowned at Davide.

“No Spanx,” he smiled, crossing his fingers behind his back. “William, we have a blue shirt for you, too. We need you to match your wife, to show unity.”

William was reluctant. He had become quite attached to his grubby t shirt. It was covered in baby drool. It made him feel like a proper Dad. “We’re showing the world a baby we have had together. How much more unity do you need to see?” Still, he threw it on over his t shirt and started buttoning with a minimum of bad grace.

Kate was beginning to unwind. She watched in the mirror as her chestnut locks, glossy once more, were pulled into undulating curls. “God, I’ve become one of those totes blow dry dependent women,” she thought to herself. “Maybe I’ll get an organic Brazilian style treatment, available from hair salons nationwide! After all, I am a cash rich, time poor new Mum!”

Davide’s work was nearly done. “Go get ’em, princess,” he grinned, spraying Kate with Illuminum White Gardenia Petals and motioning for her to step into a pair of classic black LK Bennett courts. William and Kate exchanged a look. “At least they’re not Manolos,” comforted William as he helped the mother of his child into the shoes.


Later that day, Kate kicked back with a massive saveoly. Baby Princess Consuela Bananahammock was fast asleep, and Kate spoke quietly so as not to wake him. “Mum,” she said to Carole. “You were right. Thanks for sending stylists and things. Davide was really nice.”

Carole sat bolt upright on the sofa. “But darling, we didn’t send anyone! You told us you wanted to be left to get on with it! Who’s Davide?”

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  • Grace

    I had been avoiding this article like I have been avoiding all of the other royal baby articles. Then I read it anyway. Now I am happy.

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