Friday, April 29, 2011

Daily Mail wedding coverage.

The Daily Mail covered the royal wedding as only a U.K. tabloid can, with some biting humor, snarky remarks and deadpan humor. Meow!


Maybe Posh thought she was going to a funeral: Victoria Beckham wears minimalistic navy to the Royal Wedding

By Liz Jones
30th April 2011

The suspense was finally over.

Many hours in make-up, a block booking of a spray-tan booth in Harrods, the scalping of some poor Indian woman forced to give up her sleek straight head of hair to provide the extensions.

The moment was upon us, and Victoria Beckham did not disappoint.

For the catwalk that was yesterday’s royal wedding, she wore a boat-necked navy dress of her own ‘design’ (meaning she wrapped some fabric around her tiny frame a few weeks ago and said: ‘Um, yeah!’) with a pretty, scooped asymmetric hem and short sleeves, and a jaunty pillbox titfer by Philip Treacy. The effect was more suitable for a funeral than a wedding.

Her very high shoes, custom-made by Christian Louboutin and costing well over £1,000, were surely as hazardous to her unborn fourth child as smoking 20 Capstan Full Strength.

Her large envelope clutch bag, too, was by VB, made from lizard skin and possibly costing more than the royal reception and honeymoon together.

Her bare twiglet legs were as well-oiled as the royal wedding machine itself, while her make-up was wildly inappropriate for such a formal day occasion: far too much blusher, which made her face even more gaunt than normal, and smudged, inky eyes.

David Beckham was dressed head to toe in Ralph Lauren, a designer who does English style through the prism of waspish Americanism, every bit as fake as Victoria’s hair and pedigree as a fashion designer. Why did David not choose a struggling British tailor from Savile Row? His quiff (I noticed he did not once wear his top hat, fearing helmet-hair no doubt) was reminiscent of Ricky Gervais.

What really galls about this couple is that their sartorial savoir faire, their dandyism, is a smokescreen, meaning they are a mere wisp away from parody and tipping into tacky.

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