For Bea’s A Jolly Good Fellow

YE olde Royale Tippex Holder has been busy.

The bewigged lackey has clearly got at the pictures of Sarah Duchess of York and her little Yorkies, Beatrice and Eugenie.

Even Sarah’s former husband, Prince Andrew, the man with the putter in his pants, has surely been hit with the correction fluid.

It’s only when we read that they have massed for a masked ball that we get the joke. These surely are not real teeth but part of elaborate costumes. These teeth are no more authentic than the do’s 1888 theme. They are possibly antique teeth made from old billiard balls.

Relieved, and assured that like the teeth of the Britons they represent the Ferguson-Windsors’ grinders are the colour of instant custard and as straight as Elton’s John’s coat-hangers, we move on.

But we can’t get past the dresses. They are blocking the door. For Beatrice’s 18th birthday party, the girls are wearing frou-frou horror frocks.

Once more we realise that this is a masked ball. But the girls do not do enough to disguise the fact that mum and daughters have obtained a job lot of gowns and have come as one.

Standing either side of mum (orangey brown explosion of fabric), Beatrice and Eugenie (shiny sky blue numbers with flashes of gold and white), we are minded of looking at a layer of smog hanging between two bands of blue sky.

With hailstone-sized teeth…

Posted: 2nd, August 2006 | In: Reviews Comment | TrackBack | Permalink