I was in a waiting room recently and I picked up a book. The book was a Life magazine collection of some of its most notable photographs. I didn’t care about sports or nature or war . . . . I went straight to the society section. I thumbed through a few pictures and then I saw it. The picture that suddenly transported me back to my 12 year old self.
Princess Diana, right after her wedding, consoling a flower girl who had bumped her head.
The byline went on to describe that the photographer (a relative of the queen) didn’t have his professional camera with him, but instead shot the impromptu picture with his personal camera. And it was one that took the world by storm. He had commented years later that mostly photography is just accidental good luck. And try as I may, I cannot find that picture on the internet. So this picture will have to do:
I was within days of turning 12 and, along with most of the females in our country, was absolutely smitten by Lady Diana. So the day that she would become Princess Diana was a day not to be missed. However, my family was in the process of moving from Boise, ID to Alaska. Which meant we were driving through Canada. In 1981. I don’t know if my mom made my dad plan it this way, but she made SURE we were in a hotel with a t.v. on the very day they were to be married. Because a hotel room with a t.v. was not a guaranteed feature on the Alcan in 1981.
I remember seeing her dress for the first time. I was utterly disappointed. After all, I was almost 12 and I knew a thing or three about fashion. I was the girl wearing bell-bottomed carpenter jeans and velour shirts. I had it goin’ ON!
When I saw the photo today I realized the sheer perfection of her dress and the darling flower girls (Forget the waving boob on the right in the picture. Yeah, I said it!). So beautiful and so timeless. She was becoming a princess . . . . she needed a big dress with puffy sleeves!
What a happy time that was. I think. Well, it sure was for me. My fascination with Diana didn’t end with her wedding. I think a part of me will always get the warm fuzzies when I think of her. In high school, my mom even made me a dress that was an exact replica of one of hers. Mine was red and hers was blue. I still have that dress because my mom’s abilities as a seamstress are second to none.
I enjoyed my field trip to 12 year old Cheri today. It was a good time to be me.