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By Reb Stevenson
Like Cinderella to the ball, I was going to Buckingham Palace to meet HRH Prince Philip, the Duke of Edinburgh and the king of questionable quotes.
There was no doubt as to how I would greet him. The choreography had been outlined in an email entitled “Royal Protocol.”
“Upon being presented to HRH, it is customary to give a short bow from the neck for gentlemen and a curtsy for ladies.”
A curtsy!? My generation’s formal greeting consists of a sloppy salute and a rhetorical “howz it goin’?”
As usual, the guys were getting off easy with a simple head bob. They had that action down pat, as (from my understanding) it’s a customary response for males when they encounter one another at a urinal and feel the need to offer an acknowledgement but not an invitation to get beaten up.
A curtsy requires elegance, grace and balance. For there is a dangerously fine line between a delicate plie and toppling into a disheveled, bruised heap directly upon a royal’s polished shoes.
The occasion: some 70 travel writers from around the globe were summoned to Buckingham to ogle the State Rooms and learn about a new public exhibition marking the 60th anniversary of the Commonwealth.To pique our interest even more (and, in my opinion, provide comedic fodder for our articles), Prince Philip agreed to make an appearance even though it happened to be his 88th birthday.
After the curtsy commandment, my next source of panic was, naturally, wardrobe.
“The minimum acceptable form of dress for gentlemen attending a function at Buckingham Palace or visiting to support a function is a suit with a tie, and for ladies an appropriate equivalent.”
So, a tight-fitting tee with the statement “Marry Me Harry” strewn across my bosom was clearly out. But what was in?
The truth is, I had been dying to wear the little hat for quite some time, but had neither the occasion nor the gumption to pull it off in Canada.
“Bless you England…” I thought triumphantly, as I yanked a wisp of netting over my forehead, hoping it was meant to go forward.
No matter your headgear, the State Rooms are truly a sight to behold. Open for just eight weeks in the summer when the Buckingham Palace closes for official business and the Queen vacates the premises, they attract up to 400, 000 visitors.
The sheer sparkle of it all is dazzling. Every available surface is decorated, mirrored and gilded to the hilt. Each piece of ornate antique furniture comes with a story, and the ceilings could easily accommodate a giant. Even a giant in a demi-ostrich headpiece.
Visitors can admire paintings from the royal collection, including works by Rembrandt, Rubens and Canaletto.
And remember that dress Queen Elizabeth wore on her visit to Canada in 1967? Of course you don’t – it was no Bjork moment.
However, it and 27 more outfits that she donned during her 170 official visits to Commonwealth countries are also on display this summer.
Gifts from the 53 Commonwealth countries round out the program (the big news here is that now we know for sure that she didn’t re-gift that gilded Maurice “The Rocket” Richard hockey puck we gave her back in ’55).
I started stressing about the curtsy once we were herded into a reception area.
When Philip entered, a hush descended. He looked as glazed as a donut – not that I blamed the poor guy. The birthday boy should have been relaxing at home with an ice cream cake or bashing a piñata or something.
Feeling a little competitive, I craned my neck to see what sorts of curtsies were preceding mine. The answer was…handshakes.
Suddenly a traditional royalist, I was aghast! Not so long ago, flouting the rules like this surely would have resulted in insta-decapitation.
By the time my turn came, I was steeled with resolve: I was going to curtsy like a lady, dammit!
I took the bull by the horns and my skirt in my hands. I bowed my head, took a half step back, bent my knees an ergonomic 45 degrees and paused. Then I raised my head, expecting to be blinded by an approving glow.
Instead, Philip already had his back to me.
Why, I never…
“What, didn’t you like my curtsy?” I said to the royal backside.
Philip looked at me sideways.
“Well,” he offered, ever quotable. “I wouldn’t do it again.”
IF YOU GO
The Summer Opening of the State Rooms at Buckingham Palace (including the Queen and Commonwealth Exhibit) runs from July 26 to September 30.
Admission is $31 for adults and $18 for children under 17.
For more information, go to www.royalcollection.org.uk or call +44 020 7766 7300