PRINCE WILLIAM and his New Parents- Princess Diana and Charles:

23 Jul

Offical photo-royal-baby

I knew the Prince when he was a teen, sort of. I was photographing International horseracing in Europe- Group 1/Group 2. That meant I spent time around the finest warmbloods in the world- 2 legged and 4. Royals, Sheiks, Sheikas and the continuing replacements for sheikahs, it was quite a lark.

I was there with an asset having come off the Southern California circuit. I knew the American trainers and riders and owners and horses. I was more than a “heads and tails” girl. It was always fun to surprise my friends from Stateside at some meet or another.

I was the last friendly face they expected seeing amidst a sea of Brits and Irishmen and Arabs. Yes, Arabs. Few here in America understand about the centuries old battle for turf, real turf, not just political. Three strains of Thoroughbred come together in European race meets- Arab, English, French. I saw it all. I tell people routinely by the time I hit DC, I had learned through lessons about international horseracing, through politics. And boxing. Two of the finest sports being obliterated in our PC techie world.

And that is where I met “the boys.” Oh, I had met HRH a bit back. I was termed “the American Lady.” With all America’s fluffery about presidents and Camelots of Kennedys and Bushs and Clintons, true Royalty is watching the Queen walk amidst her people, and that she does at the Royal Ascot and at races in memory of here Mum, the Queen Mum, where she presents the winning bowl to first to cross the finish line.

The boys? I met them long after Diana died. She remains a moment people ask… where were you when you heard the news. Me? San Diego?

The paparrazi I would at times shoot alongside in Europe talked woefully of her death. She was a cash queen for them. I knew the boys for two years, every moment golden- princes, horseback, princes on horseback. I do love to dish Wills driving lesson from the Duke. One day I will tell it, until then I have my precious princes’ balls- polo, that is, a gift I cant bear to part with.

My Royals were the Queen, Prince Philip, Princess Ann and the boys. I was all about everything horse and then some. Then some included Red Carpets and politics. My most bizarrest photo? Arnold Schwarzenegger at the Leicester Square T3 Red carpet with his fingers deeply sandwiched between Maria’s cheeks, THOSE ONES. Protocol is- celebs first go to fans, second to one side of the penned media and then to the other. WELL, CLICK. Ewwwwww, to this day but I got it along with the starlet who swirled showing her bits. Nibbles were covered. Mick, my editor still cant believe it got it. But, hey. When you shoot racehorses and hurling, the key is to anticipate and get to where they are going first. Snap. BITS, no undies. Then there is the Bill Clinton photo in which he is picking his toes through his socks on a stage at the hotel nearest the M I5 flyover near Edgeware. Yep. Shook hands after putting his shoe back on. Almost as bad as Tiger Woods exiting a porto-potty in Ireland and then shaking hands. These were the days before the sani-soap few use anyways.

The boys I would see at polo. Its a family thing over there. One day, I was so enchanted with Wills schooling Harry on how to hand awards out to the winning team, I almost forgot to take pictures. As a mom of sons, I know the difficulty of raising sons alone. What shall I do without my palace staff… grin…. she done good. He done better. When I watched Kate the girl he married, I felt a moment of kvelling (swollen with pride) too in his choice. And now he’s a dad? England has shown the world that sometimes Class can come back

Creme always rises to the top. This boy? Genuine to the core….. someday if enough ask I’ll dig for some of my shots from this day. Well done, Diana. Well done, Wills. HRH? Be so proud of a Grand Son….

so let me ask you, do you remember what you were doing the day Wills was born?


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