A QUEEN IS BORN!

Like any middle-aged American woman worth her salt, I watched The Royal Wedding.  After all, most of us  were there when the ridiculously young Diana trembled her way down the aisle dressed like the Michelin Man’s illegitimate daughter. Therefore, etiquette demanded that we witness the weddings of her sons.  While some of us  might have overslept for Will and Kate's nuptials, that wasn't going to happen with this one. After all, she’s one of our own. Lest you think I’m referring to the new Duchess of Sussex, the preternatural beauty named Meghan Markle, let me correct you. I’m talking about the Mother of the Bride, the unflappable Doria Ragland.

Step aside, Bey. There's a new queen in town.

To understand why Doria is the Queen of Middle-Aged Women With Marriageable Children, let me fill you in. First of all, she is a social worker by profession and a single mother by heart. None of these things trains one to feel comfortable around people who are royalty.  Yet, take a look at her at the Invictus games with her daughter and future son-in-law - a real honest-to-goodness Prince, Grandson of the Queen of England, Son of the future King of England, Brother to the Second-In-Line, and Uncle to #3, #4, and #5.  Check her out in her jeans and super-cute top, dreads, nose-ring, glasses. (We can all agree they are bi-focals.)

"Henry...may I call you Derwood? There's a time in every young man's life when he takes the reins and does things on his own."

"Apparently, your mum is not going to allow us to use her Netflix account, anymore."

Me? I'd be like:

HeeHee! HeeHeeHee! Heeeeeeeeeeeee!

Many of us in my Mothers Without Grandchildren Planning Committee expressed concern about what Doria would wear to the big event.  After all, the Brits are a fussy sort when it comes to rules of dressery. They also have an obsession with hats, particularly those ridiculous fascinators that have no place in decent society.  Though all eyes would be on the Bride, we understood that Doria would be on the receiving end of harsh scrutiny.

Which means I'd be all:

But, Doria was like buttah!

Her dress was pistachio perfection. Check out the embroidery on the Oscar de la Renta jacket, and the hat that had all of Britain going, "Why do WE have to wear birds' nests on our heads?"  Also, that clutch deserves its own Twitter account.

I'm not bragging when I say I'd have to be talked down from wearing something like this:

Let's not forget that Doria was unaccompanied at this event. She had no family, no significant other, no father-of-the-bride to get her down the aisle in one piece. While the rest of the world was wondering who would do the honors and escort the bride to her place at the altar, my Wine-O-The-Week club worried only for Ms. Ragland. Who would tend to HER in HER time of need? We needn't have worried. Not only did HE (as in the royal he) escort her in, he did the honors on the way out.  (Suck it up, Camilla.) Notice her cool-as-a-cucumber demeanor.
                                    
I'd be like:

"Breath in! Breath out! Breath in! Breath out!"

Then, guess who walked Doria's daughter down the aisle to her destiny? Only His Royal Highness The Prince of Wales, that's who! And he was looking quite dapper, I must say.

                               
My on-line group, Wedding Watchers Anonymous, had a mutual meltdown the moment she took his arm.  We know this is exactly how we would have presented ourselves in the Mother of the Bride Pew, which might well have resulted in a lack of amusement from Her Majesty the Queen.

Not Doria! She was  serenity personified. She had just the correct amount of mist to the eyes, and a proper glow to the cheeks that said, "That's my baby. That's MY baby marrying the ginger one!"

Now that Doria's special day is over, we presume she's returned to The States to continue providing assistance to geriatric clients and their families.  At a time in our history when the news is consistently painful, it was nice to have a respite from the heartbreak. May the Duke and Duchess of Sussex enjoy a splendid future together, and may they provide our Queen with an excellent mother-in-law suite. In the meantime, jolly good show, Ms. Ragland!