My Mother, Princess of Wales.

posted in: Family 8
My mom, in Bristol, 1987. Image: Wikipedia.
My mom, in Bristol, 1987. Image: Wikipedia.


I drove over to Iowa City on Friday to attend a wedding with my pal Sevy, who handles the art direction for F Newsmagazine.

Even though I had never laid eyes on either the bride or groom before yesterday — I was Sevy’s “+1” for the occasion — I could just tell Danny and Cate had never looked better. It’s always like that when people get married, especially if their names are Danny and Cate.

And speaking of beautiful people: My mom is prettier than Princess Diana.

I bring it up because last night, after I kicked off my strappy sandals and plopped onto the bed with my guest gift bag (there were Bit-O-Honeys in there; total score)  I turned on the dumb TV and there was a terrible, quasi-documentary on Princess Diana. And even though it was all sensational/sentimental, even though the show had non-experts and hangers-on talking about Diana like they actually knew her or had anything of actual value to say on the subject, I kept watching. Because Princess Diana reminds me of my mom. She always has. Always did, I guess.

You see, when Diana was at the height of her fame and beauty and power, it was the 1990s and I was in high school. No one in my family or friend circle was “into” Princess Diana, per se; Iowa folks don’t get too excited about the Queen of England or her court, because who does she think she is, the Queen of England?? Still, Diana was a big celebrity back then, so she was in our lives whether we liked it or not. I remember being at the Barnes & Noble in Des Moines and I bought a magazine with her portrait on the cover. I think it was Vogue or Time. I don’t remember the magazine but I do remember Diana was absolutely stunning in a black turtleneck. I bought the magazine because the woman looked familiar to me.

Diana had kind of a wide nose. She had fluffy, curly hair, cut shortish; she wore high-waisted shorts with a belt and, when she wasn’t rocking the turtleneck, she often wore blouses with shoulder pads. She seemed tall; she was a mom; she was supes pretty, and she was smart. Oh, and her husband was a jerk. That was important.

Guess who also fit that exact criteria? Marianne. From the fluffy, curly hair to the shorts to the hard work to the maddening husband situation, Diana Spencer and my mom had a lot in common in the mid-1990s. And I swear, they really do share some facial/physical characteristics. It’s the build? The brow? I don’t know. I should ask my sisters.

Or maybe I just think my mom is prettier than a princess and stuff.

It’s a nice thing to think.