Give the Princess of Wales her due, she got our full attention with that video. Posted on Instagram to mark the completion of chemotherapy to treat her cancer, and her reintroduction to public life, filmed by Will Warr in rural Norfolk, it was instant PR dynamite. The Veronica Beard boho dress (a sell-out, naturally). Those flickering sepia-soaked scenes with Prince William and the children; wheat fields, haystacks, hugs, kisses. The heartfelt voiceover, and overall “Eat, Pray, Picnic” vibe, all pulsing with keynotes: home, family, recovery and hard-earned positivity.
How fascinating. Pointed. Revealing. You could appreciate why some fellow cancer sufferers might find it overly photogenic and filtered, and not just in terms of the images. Might the rupture with Harry and Meghan be playing into it? Probably. (When does it not?) It’s also telling how the video swerves palaces, grandeur and other jarring wealth motifs (mindful that British people are under financial pressure?). After the cyclone of scrutiny surrounding her diagnosis, one could easily imagine Kate feeling pressured into appeasing the ever-ravenous double-headed triffid of media and public. Rarefied regal reserve doesn’t cut it these days. Red meat must be thrown to the hounds.
All these could be significant factors, but are they the only ones – and are they the core motivators? Beyond the surprise of it all (the wafting about in the £595 peasant-dress, the Boden-mysticism, the pastoral smooching), is something even more interesting – more emotional and determined – being said?
Stylistically, the video verges on corny (you can tell they’re relative Insta-newbies), but so what? Doesn’t the Princess of Wales have the right to feel as terrified and transformed by cancer as anybody else? If, in some ways, it’s her royal spin on ordinary women chronicling their own cancer journeys on social media, that’s human and lovely.
Still, it would be naive to think this project wasn’t forensically calculated. The boho frock was itself a departure. Kate has habitually been a stiff dresser – stylish but middle-aged before her time. I remember thinking of her (even as a very young woman) dressing as if permanently attending the wedding of someone she didn’t like. How stultifying. You could imagine every hem measured for regal decorum; every bustline for decency. Here (voila!), all replaced with “imperial hippy”.
Do “the people” want this: Kate, future queen and regal influencer? (what next: full-on yoga demos in the grounds of Sandringham?) Is this the future for the customarily inscrutable royal brand?
Obviously, Kate and William want the royal family (what King George VI sagely dubbed “the firm”) to modernise and survive. Then again, this new film seems to go beyond the standard royal grift. There aren’t the usual regal-dopamine hits (balcony-waving, visits to schools). At times, in the three-minute-long video, William resembles a middle-manager who’s quietly thrilled to get the afternoon off. He’s letting the optics down to be honest (Kate should have borrowed Tom Hiddleston for the shoot). I’m kidding, but whatever soft-focus aspiration is going on, something key is missing. Poring over it for the umpteenth time (Yes, I know, I should get a life), it hits me: the couple in the video are presenting as many complicated things, but not as royal.
This is where I wonder if the messaging (the intention, the significance) of the video has become slightly scrambled. For instance, when it comes to the Sussexes, Meghan seems to be all about California-inspo, bosswomaning, and TED talks. Apart from the social media medium – the Being Out There of the video – is there much overlap with Meghan’s territory?
Likewise, the pacification of the public and media: it’s in there undoubtedly, but arguably there’s also a “Back Off!” manifesto. Middleton, fortysomething wife, mother and cancer survivor, using social media and floaty dresses to say: “I’ve changed, I’m going to be having a few more picnics, and a lot more downtime. This is how things are going to be from now on.”
Most strikingly, the video seems to be about class. In that, there’s a firm muting of William’s royal aspect and a reclaiming of Kate’s middle-class centre ground. Yes, the wealthy upper-middle (let’s not go overboard), and probably to market themselves as the perfect ordinary family (the video hums with “just like you” soft power). But also (putting cynicism aside for a moment, giving the woman who just got through chemo a tiny break), because this is Catherine Elizabeth Middleton’s territory. It’s where she shines.
Aside from everything else happening in the video, is it also about Kate returning to middle-class basics? It’s a key part of what she offered to William in the first place: the family safety (normality and stability) he hadn’t had growing up (mother dying, generalised royal madness). Unlike Charles and Camilla, Carole and Michael Middleton feature in the video, playing a card game, but haven’t they been there all along?
It is well documented that, from when they first got together, William would regularly hang out with Kate and the Middleton family. So, it’s not as if Kate is “Marie Antoinette”-ing (cosplaying at being middle class). It’s profound for both of them, one of the touchstones of their initial connection.
For me, this is what the video seems to be saying. It’s not about competing with Harry and Meghan (well, not yet – give them time). It is a new kind of royal video but, also, strongly middle class. It is, to an extent, about pacifying the media/public with a health update (though maybe, shamefully, this was truer last time, when Kate was diagnosed). As well as all of this, I suspect Kate simply wanted to make the video, to draw a line in the sand about her new/old priorities. Ultimately, the video is sending out messages, just maybe not quite the ones people think.
• Barbara Ellen is an Observer columnist
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