No Results Page | Barnes & Noble® Uh-oh, it looks like your Internet Explorer is out of date. For a better shopping experience, please upgrade now. We found 0 results for wedding-dress-of-camilla-parker-bowles-noelene-aoide/1108222698. Please try another search or browse our recommendations below. Recommended based on your shopping Average rating: 4.2 Average rating: Bestselling Products Average rating: 4.4 Average rating: Visit Your Local Store Camilla Parker Bowles photos on Flickr | Flickr 4 As I was returning to the train station at the end of my long Saturday in Windsor Great Park I happened by this happy couple emerging from a civil wedding ceremony in the same hall where Charles and Camilla had been "hitched" about a month earlier. Here is a quote from the Wikipedia article about the Royal Wedding: "The wedding took place at the Guildhall in Windsor at 12.30pm BST (12:30 UTC) on 9 April 2005. Crowds had gathered on the streets since dawn ahead of the service.

A civil ceremony was planned because of controversy within the Church of England regarding the remarriage of divorcés. This was attended by all the senior royals apart from the Queen and Prince Philip, Duke of Edinburgh. When Princess Anne married Timothy Laurence after having divorced Mark Phillips, she chose to do so in the Church of Scotland, the Presbyterian body in Scotland. Remarriage of divorcees is less controversial in the Kirk (as it is known), and the sovereign is an ordinary member of the Kirk. The Prince of Wales and his bride did not elect this course of action. At the wedding, the couple's witnesses were Prince William of Wales and the bride's son, Tom Parker Bowles. In keeping with tradition, the couple's wedding rings are crafted from 22 carat (92%) Welsh gold from the Clogau St David's mine in Bontddu. The design of the wedding rings is by Wartski, a London jeweller that has held the Royal Warrant to The Prince of Wales since 1979. The Prince wears his on the small finger of his left hand.For the wedding, the duchess wore a cream-coloured dress and coat with a wide-brimmed cream-coloured hat.

For the blessing afterward, she wore a floor-length embroidered pale blue and gold coat over a matching chiffon gown and a dramatic spray of golden feathers in her hair. Both ensembles were by Antonia Robinson and Anna Valentine, London designers who work under the name Robinson Valentine; both hats were made by the Irish milliner Philip Treacy. The wedding was followed by a televised blessing at St George's Chapel at Windsor Castle, led by The Archbishop of Canterbury." By Tina Brown. With “The Diana Chronicles,” Tina Brown breathes new life into the saga of this royal “icon of blondness” by astutely revealing just how powerful, and how marketable, her story became in the age of modern celebrity journalism. Indeed, while Diana named Camilla Parker Bowles as the third party in her unhappy union, she might also have mentioned a fourth: the media. “She was way ahead of her contemporaries in foreseeing a world where celebrity was, so to speak, the coin of the realm,” Brown writes. “An aristocrat herself, Diana knew that the aristocracy of birth was now irrelevant.

All that counted now was the aristocracy of exposure.” And Brown offers an insightful, absorbing account of the pas de deux into which, to her eventual peril, Diana joined with the paparazzi. As the former editor of Vanity Fair and The New Yorker, Brown certainly has the authority to examine the Princess of Wales as a creation and a casualty of the media glare. Perhaps not incidentally, Brown’s own years in the spotlight were bookended by Diana’s rise and fall. In July 1981, Brown appeared as a “royalty expert” on the “Today” show’s coverage of the Wales wedding. Then the editor of the British gossip magazine Tatler, Brown recalls that “the wedding did for the sales of Tatler ... what the O. J. Simpson chase did for the ratings of CNN. It put us on the map.” After Diana’s death in August 1997, Brown again placed the magazine over which she presided — this time, The New Yorker — “in the middle” of what was still “the biggest tabloid story in the world,” by publishing a special issue devoted to the princess’ memory.

Brown stressed the dramatic difference between the Windsors’ self-styled identity (“local, modest, unsurprising” guarantors of British tradition) and Diana’s (global superstar, unapologetically “shrewd ... at press relations”). The conflicted relationship between the two had been, the historian Simon Schama noted in the same issue, a “wedding of the past and the future: the Radetzky March meets the Tatler cover girl. ... But, as it turned out, the past and the future couldn’t get along.” What’s more — as Brown’s book demonstrates, and as the recent film “The Queen” has also made clear — the future was bound to win, even if it claimed its own leading avatar in the process. In fact, Diana’s conquest of the camera was bittersweet from the start. In February 1967, when she was 5, her mother, Frances, began an extramarital liaison that led to her parents’ acrimonious divorce. Diana’s father, Johnnie Spencer, retaliated against Frances by gaining custody of the children. But his stiff-upper-lip reaction to the trauma (“speaking in words of one syllable ...

and sitting morosely for hours staring out of the window”) made him ill-suited to handle its effects on his offspring, for whom he was able to show affection only by taking “amateur movies and still photographs” of them. As a result, Brown notes, “Diana grew up associating the camera with love,” and striving to give it what it appeared to want in return. Her brother, Charles, told Sally Bedell Smith, a previous biographer, that when Johnnie was filming Diana, “she would automatically sort of make gestures and strike poses.” Honing her star power became, Brown observes, the bereft little girl’s “own way of surviving.” In theory, this was useful preparation for her relationship with Prince Charles, which first made it into the newspapers in September 1980. By this time, the British press was in a full-scale backlash against “the culture of deference” that had long dominated its society pages.

Since Rupert Murdoch’s acquisition of “the prurient News of the World” in 1969 and his reinvigoration, a year later, of The Sun “as a rollicking, up-yours tabloid featuring bare-breasted pinups every day,” England had entered a “racier media age” in which the staid House of Windsor “was acquiring the stale, curdled taste of a British Rail cheese sandwich.” Because “pictures of a middle-aged Princess Margaret churning grandly around the dance floor in her caftan in Mustique hardly moved product” — and Brown should know, having trumpeted that princess’ “Mustique mystique” for The Tatler — “the guessing game of the Prince of Wales’s love life was the sole excitement for the media.” And what excitement it was. The prince was Europe’s most eligible bachelor, and his romantic exploits became fodder for an increasingly rapacious media machine.

Before Diana, Charles had tried to evade the tabloids’ scrutiny by bedding married women, “because the need for secrecy made them ‘safe.’ ” But when he began appearing publicly with Diana — the 19-year-old debutante with a “soft, peachy complexion” and legs that seemed “to extend up to her ears like Bambi” — secrecy ceased to be an option. The paparazzi went wild for the girl who was not only (as an aristocrat, Protestant and self-proclaimed virgin) an ideal royal bride, but also a magnificently photogenic subject. Notwithstanding her “Shy Di” nickname, born of her habit of glancing up coyly at the camera from beneath batting eyelashes, Diana proved “a natural at giving the press what they wanted”: gorgeous pictures. “One by one,” according to Brown, “the hack pack fell in love with her.” Winning the affection of the press was not, however, the same thing as winning the affection of Prince Charles, as Diana would soon be devastated to learn.

One of the more striking revelations in “The Diana Chronicles” is that it was the media just as much as the royal family — ready for Charles to stop dithering and settle down — that propelled him into marriage with a woman he didn’t love. A former royal-watcher for The Sun told Brown: “We really got behind Diana and pushed her towards him. I am absolutely convinced that we the media forced Charles to marry her.” The prince’s heart belonged to his married girlfriend, Camilla Parker Bowles (now his second wife), but as heir to the throne, he was neither encouraged nor expected to follow his heart. The problem was that the tabloids — and Diana, who consumed them avidly — insisted on a different story line: He’s in Love. Other biographers have attributed the subsequent unraveling of the Waleses’ marriage to Charles’s cruelty (Andrew Morton) or Diana’s mental illness (Sally Bedell Smith), but Brown chalks the disaster up to the bride’s naïve belief in a tabloid fiction.

She and the media became partners in ignoring the warning signs from the groom himself, like his now notorious reply when, receiving news of the couple’s engagement in February 1981, a BBC reporter asked Charles if he and his fiancée were in love: “Whatever ‘in love’ means.” Amazingly, Brown points out, “the print press literally erased” the phrase “from their accounts. No one, it seems, wanted to break the spell.” Least of all Diana, who answered the reporter’s “love” question with a giggle: “Of course.” The bride was in for a rude awakening. And though most of the Waleses’ sordid domestic drama has already been covered at length elsewhere, Brown perceptively highlights the media’s starring role. Once married to Charles, Diana chafed at playing second fiddle not only to Camilla but also to Queen Elizabeth. While still a newlywed, she was deeply offended when Charles offered his mother a drink before her. “I always thought it was the wife first — stupid thought,” she complained afterward.

Brown observes that first offering drinks to an older woman — queen or not — “was only basic good manners” and concludes: “Stupid thought, yes, or maybe something worse: the onset of superstar entitlement. ... Six months of adulation from the press had begun to reshape Diana’s worldview.” Offended by the Windsors’ failure to appreciate the qualities everyone else seemed to admire, she turned increasingly to the tabloids to nourish and sustain her. To that end, Diana became a master of press manipulation, regularly leaking tips and planting stories about both herself and her enemies. She also understood the incomparable power of the image, which led her, at the height of her problems with Charles, to pose for a photograph alone in front of the Taj Mahal, “the monument to marital love.” In one of the book’s many new interviews, John Travolta tells Brown about his legendary dance with Diana at the White House in 1985: “I thought, She not only knows who she is, she knows what this is — and how big this is. She was so savvy about the media impact of it all.” Yet Diana’s savvy had its limits.

For although her public-relations wizardry enabled her repeatedly to upstage and — with the tell-all interviews she did in 1992 and 1995 — humiliate the Windsors, it did more than just give the monarchy an appealing, “human” face. By inviting the press to share in her most intimate experiences, the princess abolished every last vestige of celebrity privacy. And by providing the press with picture after dazzling, salable picture, she stoked “the media’s inexhaustible appetite for celebrity images.” In an extended meteorological conceit, Brown observes: “The sunshine of publicity in which Diana would at first be happy to bask, posing and smiling for the cameras, grew steadily hotter and harsher. As the superheated imperatives of an invasive press bumped up increasingly against the milder human necessity of privacy, scattered rains gave way to drenching gales and then to spectacular and finally lethal hurricanes. ...

Diana herself had accelerated the climate change that ended up making her life literally impossible.” Mistakenly, she thought she could “control the genie she had released.” But the genie pursued her to the end, right into the Pont de l’Alma tunnel in Paris, where a high-speed paparazzi chase culminated in the princess’ death. Lying unconscious and badly wounded in the wreckage of a black Mercedes, Diana continued to inspire the frenzied photographers. As the picture editor of The Sun confessed to Brown, that very evening he initially agreed to pay £300,000 to one of the shutterbugs who had followed the Mercedes into the tunnel for snapshots of its mangled blond occupant.

“Even as Diana struggled for life,” Brown writes, “she was being sold as an exclusive.” Joan Rivers: constantly in the limelight and pursued by controversy The quintessential acerbic Noo Yawker, the comedian Joan Rivers, who has died aged 81, was identified by the rasping, fingernails-on-the-blackboard voice, which added a frisson to her signature phrase, "Can we talk?" As she aged, her face and her countless cosmetic operations became another trademark, but her cutting wit, often aimed at herself, was the core of her comedy and proved an asset as she moved into hosting talk shows. Later she found a niche, often alongside her daughter, Melissa, interviewing her fellow celebrities and criticising their fashions on the red carpets of the myriad awards ceremonies with which the entertainment industry honours itself. Inevitably, her sarcasm proved too much for the egos of the stars, although she found a unique way of promoting her one-woman show based on those experiences when she went to London in 2008.

Appearing on ITV's daytime gabfest Loose Women, to plug her show Joan Rivers: A Work in Progress by a Life in Progress, Rivers, then 75, said she didn't enjoy interviewing actors such as Russell Crowe. She turned to the camera, said "get the bleeper ready," then called Crowe "a fucking shit". There was, however, no bleeper. Although she bounced back with contrite quips, Loose Women proved rather tighter than advertised, and when the lineup returned from a commercial break, Rivers was gone. Told that 48 viewers had called to complain, Rivers, aware of British television's vote-rigging scandals that year, demanded a recount. She called it "another milestone" for her career, saying it reminded her of her wedding night because "I got thrown out halfway through that, too." Later she issued an apology, saying: "I'm sorry I fucking swore." This should not have caught anyone by surprise. As with some other US comedians, notably Jackie Mason, Britain helped to rejuvenate her career, perhaps because she reinforced British stereotypes of typical American behaviour.

Reviewing the December 2007 Royal Variety performance, a livid Daily Mail counted Rivers's 13 swear words in her seven minutes before the Queen, starting with: "It's been a shitty day; everyone here's stealing my jokes." Yet Rivers had longstanding form in Britain; her 1986 BBC chat show Can We Talk? lasted only six episodes and drew reviews ranging from bad to pitiful. She seemed unable to bring her usual acerbic wit to bear on her guests, often leaving her co-host Peter Cook playing straight man to the point of sycophancy, although the show did reunite Cook and Dudley Moore in one episode. Germaine Greer compared her interviewing style to "spiders copulating", while Spitting Image created a Joan Rivers puppet that was a skeleton. She was born Joan Molinsky in Brooklyn, New York, to Russian immigrant parents, Meyer and Beatrice (nee Grushman). Her father's success as a doctor meant that she had a suburban upbringing in Westchester county. After three years at what was then Connecticut College for Women, she graduated from Barnard College, New York, in 1954 with a degree in English and anthropology.

She worked as a department store buyer, and in 1957 married Jimmy Sanger, whom she described as the boss's son. The marriage was annulled after six months, lasting, in her words, "six months longer than it should have". Taking a job as a publicist for another store, Lord & Taylor, she began performing in New York clubs, billed as Pepper January. Self-deprecation and marital discord were cornerstones of her act. "There is not one female comic who was beautiful as a little girl," she said. "My best birth control is to leave the lights on." She followed in the footsteps of Phyllis Diller, the pioneer of mainstream female standup comedy in America, but if Diller was the yenta (gossip) from hell, Rivers was the Jewish-American princess of your worst nightmares. "Trust your husband, adore your husband, and get as much as you can in your own name," she advised. She performed in a comedy trio, Jim, Jake and Joan, wrote material for the puppet mouse Topo Gigio, a sensation on the Ed Sullivan Show, and performed on The Jack Paar Tonight Show.

Her big break came in 1965, after Johnny Carson took over Tonight from Paar. That year she married the British-born writer and producer Edgar Rosenberg. Soon she was doing primetime shows such as Ed Sullivan, and by 1968, the year Melissa was born, she had her own short-lived talk show in syndication, and a small but excellent part in Burt Lancaster's film The Swimmer. She was a regular writer and performer on Candid Camera, but a play, Fun City, which she and Rosenberg wrote with Lester Colodny, bombed on Broadway, the first of a number of failures of projects she controlled. In 1973 she wrote a TV movie, The Girl Most Likely To ..., which starred Stockard Channing. She became an in-demand guest for comedy and variety shows and a regular in Las Vegas, opening for the singer Helen Reddy, then one of the town's biggest attractions. Moving to Hollywood, she got the chance to write and direct the 1978 film Rabbit Test, starring Billy Crystal, about a man who gets pregnant. Like her play, it failed to capture an audience. Again, Carson's Tonight show kept her in the public eye.

Starting in 1983, she was Carson's replacement host of choice, a position she called "career Viagra". So much so that, in 1986, the new Fox Network offered Rivers her own late-night chat show. Carson was furious that she would take a competing show, and broke off contact with her; they never spoke again, and even his successors refused to book her. The Late Show Starring Joan Rivers lasted less than a year. Rosenberg, who produced her show, fell ill and in 1987 killed himself in a Philadelphia hotel room. In her book Bouncing Back (1997), Rivers said she became bulimic after her husband's death, and contemplated taking her own life. The book became a made-for-TV movie, Tears and Laughter: The Joan and Melissa Rivers Story (1994). She bounced back by starring in Pee-Wee Herman's 1988 Christmas special; Herman (Paul Reubens) had been the first guest on her Fox programme. In 1989 she began a syndicated daytime chat show that ran for five years.

After a move back to New York, she hosted a radio show from 1997 until 2003. Britain remained a welcoming market for her. She was interviewed by Dawn French for the BBC's Girls Who Do Comedy and was one of Channel 4's 50 Top Comedy Acts. Yet controversy predictably followed her around. Promoting a tour in 2003, she clashed with the broadcaster and columnist Darcus Howe on Radio 4's Midweek. When its host, Libby Purves, opined that Rivers's dream of intermarriage eliminating racism seemed "an American melting-pot approach", Howe snapped that America was "one of the most savagely racist places in the world". When he said Rivers was offended by the term "black", she became enraged. Calling Howe stupid, she attacked the documentary he was plugging as revealing him to be proud of being a poor husband and father, talking so incessantly that she left him struggling to return to championing his film. British audiences were shocked when Rivers joked that the widows of 9/11 firefighters, who were compensated with $5m payments, would be disappointed if their husbands had been found alive.

Defending herself, she pointed out that "my second husband committed suicide and I did suicide jokes". Even so, in 2005 Rivers was one of only four Americans invited to the wedding of the Prince of Wales and Camilla Parker Bowles. By this point, Rivers's act had long since become primarily self-parody. Complaints about her looks had given way to jokes about plastic surgery: "I wish I had a twin, so I could see what I'd look like without it." She played herself on the American TV series Nip/Tuck, and in the cartoon series Futurama appeared as a talking head kept alive for thousands of years. Her aggressive behaviour on the red carpet, which placed her firmly in the pantheon of gay icons, proved to be too much for both the E! Channel and the TV Guide Channel, which replaced her and Melissa with the anodyne actor Lisa Rinna. Only in America could Rivers reinvent herself as an aspirational brand; she sold her own-label clothing, jewellery, makeup and scent. But it was Britain that provided her with the most dubious highlight of her career; her appearance on Big Brother Celebrity Hijack (2007).

In 2010 she was the subject of a fascinating documentary, Joan Rivers: A Piece of Work, which was a hit at film festivals from San Francisco to London. The following year she moved in with her daughter as part of a reality television show, and co-hosted Fashion Police on E! In 2013 she launched an online chat show, In Bed With Joan. Rivers once said that comedy was "an angry white man's game. Even if you're Chris Rock or Joan Rivers, you're an angry white man." Looking at one of her classics, "A man can sleep around, but if a woman makes 19 or 20 mistakes, she's a tramp," you can see what she meant. She is survived by her daughter Melissa. • Joan Rivers (Joan Alexandra Molinsky) comedian and talk show host, born 8 June 1933; died 4 September 2014 Michael Carlson The Guardian 4 September 2014 1 St George's Chapel is the place of worship at Windsor Castle in England, United Kingdom. It is both a royal peculiar and the chapel of the Order of the Garter.

The chapel is governed by the Dean and Canons of Windsor. The chapel is located in the Lower Ward of the castle, which is one of the principal residences of Queen Elizabeth II. The day to day running of the chapel is the responsibility of the religious College of St George, which is directed by a chapter of the dean and four canons, assisted by a clerk, virger (traditional spelling of verger) and other staffers. The Society of the Friends of St George's and Descendants of the Knights of the Garter, a registered charity, was established in 1931 to assist the College in maintaining the chapel. In 1348, King Edward III founded two new religious colleges: St Stephen's at Westminster and St George's at Windsor. The new college at Windsor was attached to the Chapel of St Edward the Confessor which had been constructed by Henry III in the early thirteenth century. The chapel was then rededicated to the Blessed Virgin Mary, St Edward the Confessor and St George the Martyr. Edward III also built the Aerary Porch in 1353-1354. It was used as the entrance to the new college.

St George's Chapel became the Mother Church of the Order of the Garter, and a special service is still held in the chapel every June and is attended by the members of the order. Their heraldic banners hang above the upper stalls of the choir where they have a seat for life. The period 1475-1528 saw a radical redevelopment of St George's Chapel, set in motion by Edward IV and continued by Henry VII and Henry VIII. The thirteenth century Chapel of St Edward the Confessor was expanded into a huge new Cathedral-like chapel under the supervision of Richard Beauchamp, Bishop of Salisbury, and the direction of the master mason Henry Janyns. The Horseshoe Cloister was constructed for the new community of 45 junior members: 16 vicars, a deacon gospeller, 13 lay clerks, 2 clerks epistoler and 13 choristers. St George's Chapel was a popular destination for pilgrims during the late medieval period. The chapel was purported to contain several important relics: the bodies of John Schorne and Henry IV and a fragment of the True Cross held in a reliquary called the Cross of Gneth.

These relics all appear to have been displayed at the east end of the south choir aisle. The Chapel suffered a great deal of destruction during the English Civil War. Parliamentary forces broke into and plundered the chapel and treasury on 23 October 1642. Further pillaging occurred in 1643 when the fifteenth-century chapter house was destroyed, lead was stripped off the chapel roofs, and elements of Henry VIII's unfinished funeral monument were stolen. Following his execution in 1649, Charles I was buried in a small vault in the centre of the choir at St George's Chapel which also contained the coffins of Henry VIII and Jane Seymour. A programme of repair was undertaken at St George's Chapel following the Restoration of the monarchy. The reign of Queen Victoria saw further changes made to the architecture of the chapel. The east end of the choir was reworked in devotion to Prince Albert; the Lady Chapel, which had been abandoned by Henry VII, was completed; a royal mausoleum was completed underneath the choir; and a set of steps were built at the west end of the chapel to create a ceremonial entrance to the building.

Garter Service Members of the order meet at Windsor Castle every June for the annual Garter Service. After lunch in the State Apartments in the Upper Ward of the Castle they process on foot, wearing their robes and insignia, down to St George's Chapel where the service is held. If any new members have been admitted to the Order they are installed at the service. After the service, the members of the order return to the Upper Ward by carriage or car. The order once enjoyed frequent services at the chapel, but, after becoming infrequent in the 18th century, were discontinued after 1805. The ceremony was revived in 1948 by King George VI for the 600th anniversary of the founding of the Order, and has since become an annual event. Heraldry After their installation, members are each assigned a stall in the chapel choir above which his or her heraldic devices are displayed. A member's sword is placed below a helm which is decorated with a mantling and topped by a crest, coronet or crown. Above this, a member's heraldic banner is flown emblazoned with his or her arms.

A much smaller piece of brass ("stall plate") is attached to the back of the stall displaying its member's name, arms and date of installation. On a member's death, the sword, helm, mantling, crest, coronet or crown, and banner are removed. A ceremony marking the death of the late member must be held before the stall can be assigned to anyone else. This ceremony takes place in the chapel, during which the Military Knights of Windsor carry the banner of the deceased member and offer it to the Dean of Windsor, who places it on the altar. The stall plates, however, are not removed; rather, they remain permanently affixed somewhere about the stall, so the stalls of the chapel are festooned with a colourful record of the members throughout history. Chantries St George's Windsor is among the most important and ambitious medieval chantry foundations to have survived in England. The college, itself a medieval chantry, also contains a number of independent chantries in the form of altars and small chapels dedicated to various members of the English monarchy and also to a number of prominent courtiers, deans and canons. Masses, the Office and prayers would be offered in these chantries for the good of the founder.

Interestingly, Henry VIII had intended a chantry to be set up in the Chapel, despite the fact that he instituted the religious changes which brought about the Reformation in England and the eventual suppression of chantries. The much admired iron gates in the sanctuary of the chapel as well as the locks on the doors of the chapel are the work of the Cornish metalsmith John Tresilian. The status of the college as a royal foundation saved it from dissolution at the Reformation. As a result, many of the smaller chantries within the chapel were preserved. These are the only remaining chantries of their kind in England which have never formally been suppressed. Weddings The chapel has been the site of many royal weddings, particularly of the children of Queen Victoria.

These weddings include: The Prince Albert Edward, Prince of Wales and Princess Alexandra of Denmark in 1863 (later Edward VII and Queen Alexandra respectively) The Princess Helena and Prince Christian of Schleswig-Holstein-Sonderburg-Augustenburg in 1866 The Princess Louise and the Marquess of Lorne (later Duke of Argyll) in 1871 The Prince Arthur, Duke of Connaught and Princess Louise Margaret of Prussia in 1879 Princess Frederica of Hanover and Luitbert von Pawel Rammingen in in 1880 The Prince Leopold, Duke of Albany and Princess Helena of Waldeck-Pyrmont in 1882 Princess Marie Louise of Schleswig-Holstein (daughter of Princess Christian) and Prince Aribert of Anhalt in 1891 Princess Alice (daughter of the Duke of Albany) and Prince Alexander of Teck (later Earl of Athlone) in 1904 Princess Margaret of Connaught (daughter of the Duke of Connaught) and Prince Gustaf Adolf of Sweden (later King Gustaf VI Adolf of Sweden) in 1905 Lady Helena Cambridge (daughter

 of the Marquess of Cambridge, and niece of Queen Mary) and Major John Gibbs, Coldstream Guards in 1919 (non-royal) Anne Abel Smith (grand-daughter of Princess Alice, Countess of Athlone) and David Liddell-Grainger in 1957 (non-royal) Lady Helen Windsor (daughter of The Duke of Kent) and Timothy Taylor in 1992 The Prince Edward, Earl of Wessex and Sophie Rhys-Jones in 1999 Peter Phillips and Autumn Kelly in 2008 In addition to the above, the union of The Prince of Wales and Camilla Parker Bowles in 2005 received a blessing from The Archbishop of Canterbury.

Princess Amelia of the United Kingdom in 1810 Princess Augusta, Duchess of Brunswick-Wolfenbüttel, in 1813 Princess Charlotte of Wales in 1817 Charlotte of Mecklenburg-Strelitz, Queen of the United Kingdom, in 1818 George III, King of the United Kingdom, in 1820 Prince Edward, Duke of Kent and Strathearn, in 1820 Princess Elizabeth of Clarence in 1821 Prince Frederick, Duke of York and Albany, in 1827 George IV, King of the United Kingdom, in 1830 William IV, King of the United Kingdom in 1837 Princess Augusta Sophia of the United Kingdom in 1840 Adelaide of Saxe-Meiningen, Queen of the United Kingdom in 1849 Prince Adolphus, Duke of Cambridge in 1850 George V, King of Hanover, in 1878 Princess Augusta of Hesse-Cassel in 1889 Princess Mary Adelaide of Cambridge in 1897 Francis, Duke of Teck in 1900 Twitter Ye Not - Ford Model T A regular

 piece for the Daily Mail Weekend magazine about how figures in history might have twittered or tweeted or whatever, had they the chance, inclination and technology.

On the 1st of October 1908, Henry Ford put the world's first mass-produced car, the Ford Model T, on the market. Here we imagine the Twitter reaction. On the left-hand side I have shown Henry Ford, proud of his new invention. Opposite him stands fat and fun King Edward VII, resplendant in suit and homberg and resting against an Art Nouveau plant-stand, who apparently wanted one of the new inventions for his own. Between the two men is the Model T. The Edwardian period (often defined as the period between the death of Queen Victoria in 1901 and the outbreak of the the First World War in 1914) was a time of great style, design and optimism. Here Edward looks a little sour, essentially his mother Victoria with a beard, but was, by all accounts a great bon vivant, enjoying many of the fine things in life - exquisite tailoring, food, drink and women (including the actress Lillie Langtry and socialite Alice Keppel, mother of Vita Sackville-West's lover Violet Trefusis, and great grandmother of Eggheads' Judith Keppel and future Queen (?) Camilla Parker-Bowles)!

4 The fabulous, Mannerist frame used here is adapted from that made ca. 1580-90, and now used at the Ashmolean Museum, Oxford, to frame Bronzino's Portrait of Giovanni de' Medici, of c. 1550-51. Thanks to Flickr's Curry15 for drawing that work to our attention, see: (I have elongated that frame somewhat to fit my different purpose, and to push Mannerist elongation that much further) . The original portrait of King Charles II, by unknown artist, which I have here adapted, hangs in the National Portrait Gallery, London. The miniature in his hand is of my own concoction, using some press media elements (he was holding an orb), and the shadowy, background portrait is an adapted press media image from the 1980s. 3 The opening shots of Stephen Frears' "The Queen" simply show Helen Mirren's face as her character prepares for it to be seen. She is Queen Elizabeth II, and we know that at once. The resemblance is not merely physical, but embodies the very nature of the Elizabeth we have grown up with -- a private woman who takes her public role with great gravity.

Elizabeth is preparing to meet Tony Blair (Michael Sheen), the new Labor prime minister who has just been elected in a landslide. We see Blair preparing for the same meeting. His election was a fundamental upheaval of British political life after Thatcherism, and at that time, Britain stood on a threshold of uncertain but possibly tumultuous change. Within months, the queen and Blair find themselves in a crisis that involves not politics but a personal tragedy that was completely unforeseen -- the death of Diana, princess of Wales, in a Paris car crash. "The Queen" tells the story of how her death with her boyfriend, the playboy department store heir Dodi Fayed, would threaten to shake the very monarchy itself. Told in quiet scenes of proper behavior and guarded speech, "The Queen" is a spellbinding story of opposed passions -- of Elizabeth's icy resolve to keep the royal family separate and aloof from the death of the divorced Diana, who was legally no longer a royal, and of Blair's correct reading of the public mood, which demanded some sort of public expression of sympathy from the crown for "The People's Princess." It was extraordinary, the grief that people felt after her death. I was reminded of the weeks after the assassination of John F.

Kennedy. Was it out of proportion to Diana's objective importance? She was a young woman almost cynically picked for her marriage, who provided the crown with its required heirs, who was a photogenic escort for Prince Charles, who found no love from her husband; it was no secret they both had affairs during their marriage. Once divorced, she made peculiar dating choices. She died in a late-night crash while being pursued by paparazzi. Yet it was as if a saint had been taken from our midst. Yes, Diana devoted much time to doing good. Yes, I believe she was sincere. But doing good was part of her job description; she signed on for it. In death, she had the same impact as if a great national hero had died. "The Queen" is told almost entirely in small scenes of personal conflict. It creates an uncanny sense that it knows what goes on backstage in the monarchy; in the movie, Queen Elizabeth, Prince Philip and the Queen Mother have settled into a sterile domesticity cocooned by servants and civil servants. It shows Tony and Cherie Blair (Helen McCrory) in their own bourgeois domestic environment.

Both households, privately, are plain-spoken to the point of bluntness, and Cherie is more left wing than her husband, less instinctively awed by the monarchy, more inclined to dump the institution. What Tony clearly sees is that the monarchy could be gravely harmed, if not toppled, by the Queen's insistence on sticking to protocol and not issuing a statement about Diana. The press demands that Elizabeth fly the flag at half-mast as a symbolic gesture at Buckingham Palace. Elizabeth stands firm. The palace will not acknowledge the death or sponsor the funeral. "The Queen" comes down to the story of two strong women loyal to the doctrines of their beliefs about the monarchy, and a man who is much more pragmatic. The queen is correct, technically, in not lowering the flag to half-mast -- it is not a national flag, but her own, flown only when she is in residence. But Blair is correct that the flag has become a lightning rod for public opinion. The queen is correct, indeed, by tradition and history in all she says about the affair -- but she is sadly aloof from the national mood. Well, maybe queens should be. Certainly that's what the Queen Mum thinks.

Played by Sylvia Syms, she is shown at 90-plus years, still tart and sharp-witted. At the last minute, the palace needs a protocol plan for the funeral, and time is so short that the Queen Mum's own funeral plan has to be borrowed and modified. Syms has a priceless reaction where she learns that her honor guard, all servicemen, will be replaced by celebrities -- even, gasp, Elton John. "The Queen" could have been told as a scandal sheet story of celebrity gossip. Instead, it becomes the hypnotic tale of two views of the same event -- a classic demonstration, in high drama, of how the Establishment has been undermined by publicity. I think it possible that Thatcher, if she still had been in office, might have supported the Queen. That would be impossible to the populist Blair. Stephen Frears, the director, has made several wonderful films about conflicts and harmonies in the British class system ("My Beautiful Laundrette," "Dirty Pretty Things," "Prick Up Your Ears"), and "The Queen," of course, represents the ultimate contrast. No one is more upper class than the queen, and Tony Blair is profoundly middle class.

The screenplay is intense, focused, literate, observant. The dynamic between Elizabeth and Philip (James Cromwell), for example, is almost entirely defined by decades of what has not been said between them -- and what need not be said. There are extraordinary, tantalizing glimpses of the "real" Elizabeth driving her own Range Rover, leading her dogs, trekking her lands at Balmoral -- the kind of woman, indeed, who seems more like Camilla Parker-Bowles than Diana. Mirren is the key to it all in a performance sure to be nominated for an Oscar. She finds a way, even in a "behind the scenes" docudrama, to suggest that part of her character will always be behind the scenes. What a masterful performance, built on suggestion, implication and understatement. Her queen in the end authorizes the inevitable state funeral, but it is a tribute to Mirren that we have lingering doubts about whether, objectively, it was the right thing. Technically, the queen was right to consider the divorced Diana no longer deserving (by her own choice) of a royal funeral. But in terms of modern celebrity worship, Elizabeth was wrong. This may or may not represent progress.

Helen Mirren as Elizabeth II Michael Sheen as Tony Blair James Cromwell as Prince Philip Sylvia Syms as Queen Mother Paul Barrett as Trevor Rees-Jones Helen McCrory as Cherie Blair From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia A dabbawala; also spelled as dabbawalla or dabbawallah; is a person in India, most commonly in Mumbai, who is part of a delivery system that collects hot food in lunch boxes from the residences of workers in the late morning, delivers the lunches to the workplace utilizing various modes of transport, predominantly bicycles and the railway trains, and returns the empty boxes to the customer's residence that afternoon. They are also made use of by prominent meal suppliers in Mumbai where they ferry ready, cooked meals from central kitchens to the customers and back. In Mumbai, most officegoers prefer to eat home-cooked food rather than eat outside, usually for reasons of taste and hygiene, hence the concept. A number of work-from-home women also supply such home-cooked meals, delivering through the dabbawala network.[1] The word "dabbawala" when literally translated, means "one who carries a box".

"Dabba" means a box (usually a cylindrical tin or aluminium container), while "wala" is an agentive suffix, denoting a doer or holder of the preceding word.[2] The closest meaning of the dabbawala in English would be the "lunch box delivery man". Origins[edit] In 1890, Mahadeo Bhavaji Bachche started a lunch delivery service with about a hundred men.[3] In 1930, he informally attempted to unionize the dabbawallas. Later, a charitable trust was registered in 1956 under the name of Nutan Mumbai Tiffin Box Suppliers Trust. The commercial arm of this trust was registered in 1968 as Mumbai Tiffin Box Supplier's Association. The current president of the association is Raghunath Medge. Supply chain[edit] A collecting dabbawala, usually on bicycle, collects dabbas either from a worker's home or from the dabba makers.

As many of the carriers are of limited literacy (the average literacy of Dabbawallahs is 8th grade[4]), the dabbas (boxes) have some sort of distinguishing mark on them, such as a colour or group of symbols. The dabbawala then takes them to a designated sorting place, where he and other collecting dabbawalas sort (and sometimes bundle) the lunch boxes into groups. The grouped boxes are put in the coaches of trains, with markings to identify the destination of the box (usually there is a designated car for the boxes). The markings include the railway station to unload the boxes and the destination building delivery address. At each station, boxes are handed over to a local dabbawala, who delivers them. The empty boxes are collected after lunch or the next day and sent back to the respective houses.

Dabbawallas tend to belong to the Varkari sect of Maharashtra and consider Tukaram's teachings of helping each other to be central to their efficiency and motivation.[5] Appearance and coding[edit] Lunch boxes are usually marked in several ways: (1) abbreviations for collection points, (2) colour code for starting station, (3) number for destination station and (4) markings for handling dabbawala at destination, building and floor.[6] A typical dabbawala lunch. It was estimated in 2007 that the dabbawala industry was still growing by 5-10% per annum.[7] The dabbawalas have started to embrace technology, and now allow for delivery requests through SMS.[8] A colour-coding system identifies the destination and recipient. Each dabbawala is required to contribute a minimum capital in kind, in the form of two bicycles, a wooden crate for the tiffins, white cotton kurta-pyjamas, and the white Gandhi cap (topi). Each month there is a division of the earnings of each unit.

Uninterrupted services[edit] The service is almost always uninterrupted, even on the days of severe weather such as monsoons. The local dabbawalas and population know each other well, and often form bonds of trust. Dabbawalas are generally well accustomed to the local areas they cater to, and use shortcuts and other low-profile routes to deliver their goods on time. Occasionally, people communicate between home and work by putting messages inside the boxes (See: The Lunchbox film); however, with the rise of instant communication such as SMS and instant messaging, this trend is vanishing. Since 1890, when the dabbawalas formally came into existence, none of them had ever gone on strike until 2011 when the members decided to head towards Azad Maidan to support Anna Hazare in his campaign against corruption.[9] Economic analysis[edit] Each dabbawala, regardless of role, is paid around eight thousand rupees per month (about US$131 in 2014).

Between 175,000 and 200,000 lunch boxes are moved each day by 4,500 to 5,000 dabbawalas, all with an extremely small nominal fee and with utmost punctuality. It is frequently claimed that dabbawalas make less than one mistake in every six million deliveries.[10] However, this error rate is conservative as it is estimated from Ragunath Medge, the president of the Mumbai Tiffinmen's Association in 1998, and is not from a rigorous study. Medge told Subrata Chakravarty, the lead author of the 'Fast Food' article by Forbes.[11] that dabbawalas make a mistake "almost never, maybe once every two months" and this statement was extrapolated by Subrata Chakravarty to be a rate of "one mistake in 8 million deliveries." [12] The ABC has produced a documentary on dabbawalas [13] and Prince Charles visited them during his visit to India; he had to fit in with their schedule, since their timing was too precise to permit any flexibility.

Charles also invited them to his wedding with Camilla Parker Bowles in London on 9 April 2005. Owing to the tremendous publicity, some of the dabbawalas were invited to give guest lectures in some of the top business schools of India, which is very unusual. The New York Times reported in 2007 that the 125-year-old dabbawala industry continues to grow at a rate of 5–10% per year.[7] ISO 9001:2000 certified by the Joint Accreditation System of Australia and New Zealand [14] Studies and accolades[edit] In 2001, Pawan G. Agrawal carried out his PhD research in " A Study & Logistics & Supply Chain Management of Dabbawala in Mumbai".

He often presents his results on the efficiency of Dabbawallas in various fora.[15] In 2005, the Indian Institute of Management (Ahmedabad) featured a case study on the Mumbai Dabbawallas from a management perspective of logistics.[16] In 2010, Harvard Business School added the case study The Dabbawala System: On-Time Delivery, Every Time to their compendium for its high level of service (equivalent of Six Sigma or better) with a low-cost and simple operating system.[17] Six Sigma myth[edit] It has been frequently asserted that dabbawalas were awarded a Six Sigma certification by Forbes magazine. This is a myth perpetuated by the news media who inferred the accreditation from the 1998 article in Forbes.[11] In 2007, an explanation was provided by the lead author of the article, Subrata Chakravarty in a private email correspondence to Gauri Sanjeev Pathak: "Forbes never certified the dabbawalas as being a six-sigma organization. In fact, I never used the term at all.

As you know, six-sigma is a process, not a statistic. But it is commonly associated with a statistic of 1.9 errors per billion operations, and that is what caused the confusion … . I was impressed by the efficiency and complexity of the process by which some 175,000 tiffin boxes were sorted, transported, delivered and returned each day by people who were mostly illiterate and unsophisticated. I asked the head of the organization how often they made a mistake. He said almost never, maybe once every two months. Any more than that would be unforgivable to customers. I did the math, which works out to one mistake in 8 million deliveries—or 16 million, since the tiffin carriers are returned home each day. That is the statistic I used. Apparently, at a conference in 2002, a reporter asked the president … whether the tiffinwallahs were a six-sigma organization. He said he didn't know what that was. When told about the 1.9 error-per-billion statistic, I'm told he said: "Then we are. Just ask Forbes".

The reporter, obviously without having read my story, wrote that Forbes had certified the tiffinwallahs as a six-sigma organization. That phrase was picked up and repeated by other reporters in other stories and now seems to have become part of the folklore." —Subrata Chakravarty, [12] World record[edit] On 21 March 2011, Prakash Baly Bachche carried three dabbawalla tiffin crates on his head at one time which was entered as a Guinness world record From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia A dabbawala; also spelled as dabbawalla or dabbawallah; is a person in India, most commonly in Mumbai, who is part of a delivery system that collects hot food in lunch boxes from the residences of workers in the late morning, delivers the lunches to the workplace utilizing various modes of transport, predominantly bicycles and the railway trains, and returns the empty boxes back to the customer's residence that afternoon. They are also made use of by prominent meal suppliers in Mumbai where they ferry ready, cooked meals from central kitchens to the customers and back.

In Mumbai, most office goers prefer to eat home cooked food rather than eat outside, usually for reasons of taste and hygiene, hence the concept. A number of work-from-home women also supply such home cooked meals, delivering through the dabbawala network.[1] A dabba, or Indian-style tiffin box. Box coding The word "dabbawala" when literally translated, means "one who carries a box". "Dabba" means a box (usually a cylindrical tin or aluminium container), while "wala" is a suffix, denoting a doer or holder of the preceding word.[2] The closest meaning of the dabbawala in English would be the "lunch box delivery man". Origins[edit] In 1890, Mahadeo Havaji Bachche started a lunch delivery service with about a hundred men.[3] In 1930, he informally attempted to unionize the dabbawallas. Later, a charitable trust was registered in 1956 under the name of Nutan Mumbai Tiffin Box Suppliers Trust. The commercial arm of this trust was registered in 1968 as Mumbai Tiffin Box Supplier's Association.

The current president of the association is Raghunath Medge. Supply chain[edit] A collecting dabbawala, usually on bicycle, collects dabbas either from a worker's home or from the dabba makers. As many of the carriers are of limited literacy (the average literacy of Dabbawallahs is 8th grade[4]), the dabbas (boxes) have some sort of distinguishing mark on them, such as a colour or group of symbols. The dabbawala then takes them to a designated sorting place, where he and other collecting dabbawalas sort (and sometimes bundle) the lunch boxes into groups. The grouped boxes are put in the coaches of trains, with markings to identify the destination of the box (usually there is a designated car for the boxes). The markings include the railway station to unload the boxes and the destination building delivery address. At each station, boxes are handed over to a local dabbawala, who delivers them. The empty boxes are collected after lunch or the next day and sent back to the respective houses.

Dabbawallas tend to belong to the Varkari sect of Maharashtra and consider Tukaram's teachings of helping each other to be central to their efficiency and motivation.[5] Appearance and coding[edit] Lunch boxes are usually marked in several ways: (1) abbreviations for collection points, (2) colour code for starting station, (3) number for destination station and (4) markings for handling dabbawala at destination, building and floor.[6] A typical dabbawala lunch. It was estimated in 2007 that the dabbawala industry was still growing by 5-10% per annum.[7] The dabbawalas have started to embrace technology, and now allow for delivery requests through SMS.[8] A colour-coding system identifies the destination and recipient. Each dabbawala is required to contribute a minimum capital in kind, in the form of two bicycles, a wooden crate for the tiffins, white cotton kurta-pyjamas, and the white Gandhi cap (topi). Each month there is a division of the earnings of each unit.

Uninterrupted services[edit] The service is almost always uninterrupted, even on the days of severe weather such as monsoons. The local dabbawalas and population know each other well, and often form bonds of trust. Dabbawalas are generally well accustomed to the local areas they cater to, and use shortcuts and other low profile routes to deliver their goods on time. Occasionally, people communicate between home and work by putting messages inside the boxes (See: The Lunchbox film); however, with the rise of instant communication such as SMS and instant messaging, this trend is vanishing. Since 1890, when the dabbawalas formally came into existence, none of them had ever gone on strike until 2011 when the members decided to head towards Azad Maidan to support Anna Hazare in his campaign against corruption.[9] Economic analysis[edit] Each dabbawala, regardless of role, is paid about eight thousand rupees per month.

Between 175,000 and 200,000 lunch boxes are moved by 4,500 to 5,000 dabbawalas, all with an extremely small nominal fee and with utmost punctuality. It is frequently claimed that dabbawalas make less than one mistake in every six million deliveries.[10] However, this error rate is conservative as it is estimated from Ragunath Medge, the president of the Mumbai Tiffinmen's Association in 1998, and is not from a rigorous study. Medge told Subrata Chakravarty, the lead author of the 'Fast Food' article by Forbes.[11] that dabbawalas make a mistake "almost never, maybe once every two months" and this statement was extrapolated by Subrata Chakravarty to be a rate of "one mistake in 8 million deliveries." [12] The ABC has produced a documentary on dabbawalas [13] and Prince Charles visited them during his visit to India; he had to fit in with their schedule, since their timing was too precise to permit any flexibility.

Charles also invited them to his wedding with Camilla Parker Bowles in London on 9 April 2005. Owing to the tremendous publicity, some of the dabbawalas were invited to give guest lectures in some of the top business schools of India, which is very unusual. The New York Times reported in 2007 that the 125-year-old dabbawala industry continues to grow at a rate of 5–10% per year.[7] ISO 9001:2000 certified by the Joint Accreditation System of Australia and New Zealand [14] Studies and accolades[edit] In 2001, Pawan G. Agrawal carried out his PhD research in " A Study & Logistics & Supply Chain Management of Dabbawala in Mumbai".

He often presents his results on the efficiency of Dabbawallas in various fora.[15] In 2005, the Indian Institute of Management (Ahmedabad) featured a case study on the Mumbai Dabbawallas from a management perspective of logistics.[16] In 2010, Harvard Business School added the case study The Dabbawala System: On-Time Delivery, Every Time to their compendium for its high level of service (equivalent of Six Sigma or better) with a low cost and simple operating system.[17] Six Sigma myth[edit] It has been frequently asserted that dabbawalas were awarded a Six Sigma certification by Forbes magazine. This is a myth perpetuated by the news media who inferred the accreditation from the 1998 article in Forbes.[18] In 2007, an explanation was provided by the lead author of the article, Subrata Chakravarty in a private email correspondence to Gauri Sanjeev Pathak: "Forbes never certified the dabbawalas as being a six-sigma organization. In fact, I never used the term at all.

As you know, six-sigma is a process, not a statistic. But it is commonly associated with a statistic of 3.4 errors per million operations, and that is what caused the confusion … . I was impressed by the efficiency and complexity of the process by which some 175,000 tiffin boxes were sorted, transported, delivered and returned each day by people who were mostly illiterate and unsophisticated. I asked the head of the organization how often they made a mistake. He said almost never, maybe once every two months. Any more than that would be unforgivable to customers. I did the math, which works out to one mistake in 8 million deliveries—or 16 million, since the tiffin carriers are returned home each day. That is the statistic I used. Apparently, at a conference in 2002, a reporter asked the president … whether the tiffinwallahs were a six-sigma organization. He said he didn't know what that was. When told about the 3.4 error-per-million statistic, I'm told he said: "Then we are. Just ask Forbes".

The reporter, obviously without having read my story, wrote that Forbes had certified the tiffinwallahs as a six-sigma organization. That phrase was picked up and repeated by other reporters in other stories and now seems to have become part of the folklore." The companion statue on the south side is that of Queen Anne's husband, Prince George of Denmark, the statue being presented to the town by Sir Christopher Wren. On 9 April 2005, Windsor Guildhall was thrust into the view of the world's media as it was the location of the marriage of Charles, Prince of Wales and Camilla Parker Bowles, being the nearest place to the castle that is licensed to hold weddings. On 21 December 2005, it also hosted one of the first same sex civil partnership ceremonies to be held in England, that of Sir Elton John and David Furnish.

Question: Irish milliner Philip Treacy made the wide-brimmed cream-coloured hat worn by whom at her wedding on 9 April 2005?
Answer: Camilla Parker Bowles