The Queen's sticky bits have had a terrible time this Valentine's Day. Not only that, she's on E. Has a Royal male done this to her? Kind of. If there's one woman you'd think could get through Valentine's Day with a bit of dignity, it's the Queen. I'm not suggesting that Prince Philip is a paragon of romance. For a start, he's a bit thin on options. Give the missus some flowers and she may well sniff: "I got a better posy than that from a five-year-old gir
Breakfast in bed is another no-no for the Duke of Edinburgh. That's an everyday event, courtesy of the butler. What about treating her like a queen for the day? Same old, same old.
By dignity, I mean she is unlikely to be there at dawn's crack, w
aiting by the palace doormat to see if she got any cards from admirers. For the Queen, the postbag bulges every day. This year, it's not a lack of cards, but the lick upon them that may lead her to wonder about her popularity.
A book of love stamps came out this year. The Royal Mail calls it the Valentine's Day Stamp Set and issued it for "loved-up 14 February". On one, the Queen's head has been miniaturised and placed above the letter "E" in LOVE. Not only that, there are two special love stamps. One says "Be My Valentine". The other puts the letters SWALK to the left of the Queen's image. Not very stately, is it? A monarch might ask questions.
"Philip, when did the Royal Mail start tampering with my sticky bits?"
"I beg your pardon?"
"I mean, when did I lose my majesty?"
"Er, quite a while ago, darling. We've had four children and they're all grown up."
"Not that, you darling fool. My HM. The letters that go in front of my name. When did they get replaced with SWALK? And what does that mean?'
"Er, Senior Windsor And Lady King?"
A quick text to either Prince William or Harry will lead to clarity – she's on YouTube, she must have a mobile – "Oh, Granny, SWALK means Sealed With A Loving Kiss. J".
"Ooh. How common."
You could just regard this as a little Valentine frivolity by the Royal Mail. Or you could see it as more. The Queen is used to irreverence in newspapers, on television and from comedians. But such treatment is rarer among organisations which bear her crown.
What next for SWALK Elizabeth II? She may be thinking: "If they get away with this, what indignities could befall my stamp-self next year?"
Might it goad her to withdraw her imprimatur from the postal services of the land? If so, will palace corridors tonight be filled with the Queen vowing to "strip that Royal Mail", leaving Prince Philip disappointed he's not to be shorn of his best plus-fours in advance of some corgi-style affection.
Or she may decide to put a positive spin on things and feel she is joining her female subjects. The male in one's life never quite gets it right on Valentine's Day. The Queen's situation is different, but only slightly.
Between the sheets with KylieTHE Kylie economy is about the only one escaping forecasts of an imminent recession. Minogue Manufacturing plc continues to bash out product ranges, the latest being bedlinen.
Like all Kylie goods, it subconsciously partners her sexy image. A man who buys her sheets, for example, knows later that night he will be snuggling into Kylie. When the linen needs changing, he'll think: bloody Kylie is dirty. And women who bought her previous range of knickers know they have a Kylie bottom, in one way at least.
However, a few more endorsements will demean that image. There's sexy – and then there's promiscuous, and Kylie is saying yes to a lot of ranges right now.
If she carries on like this, our subliminal associations will change, as the singer appears desperate to maximise cash before fame dwindles. Still, on current form, that will only lead her to endorse different products which tap into these new connotations. Kylie cakes, for example. Sub text: Get fed up with Kylie. And after that? A range of detergents. Down the drain with Kylie.
• WHAT is it about blondes? As a redhead, I feel chagrin that a platinum-haired, glamorous creature is being feted this week. It's turning normal people into paparazzi, desperate to take a photograph. "There's not been one like it in Scotland for years," they pant, while ignoring equally luxuriant creatures, which happen to have red manes. What's the appeal of blondes? It's an eternally baffling question, but this whole episode at least tells me one thing. The camaraderie of the ginger gene straddles species. I'm talking about that bloody white stag in the Highlands.
Global games plan should receive chilly responseAN "INTERNATIONAL round" sounds like the drinks order you wish neither to pronounce nor pay for. "A dozen daiquiris, ten mojitos and a pitcher of pisco sour, please, bar man." It is, in fact, the proposal for the English Premier League to go on a world tour. If implemented, ten extra football fixtures would be played in warm cities overseas, from January 2011 onwards, to cash in on the league's global appeal.
In these carbon-counting times, this plan involves flying teams thousands of miles for matches they could easily play at home. It's as pointless as taking Coles to Newcastle. Which might happen if one Australian city bids to hold a Chelsea match.
The full article contains 940 words and appears in The Scotsman newspaper.
