I was in the crowd for the Silver Jubilee (having camped overnight in the Mall!) and it was a brilliant occasion with a real feel good factor. The crowd was so well behaved and typically British in that anyone who had got there first was kept their place if they needed to go to search for a cup of tea or a loo.

I can remember that beforehand there were lots of negative comments about how it was all a waste of money and was going to be an embarrassing flop. At the time there was the usual cost of living crisis, rampant inflation, industrial unrest and a threat from Russia, not to mention the ongoing bombing campaign by the IRA.

But it turned out to be a huge success, and like the Platinum Jubilee was a wonderful chance for communities to get together to celebrate something uniquely British.

And if anyone says that having a hereditary Head of State is a bad idea I just say look at the alternative… Would you be happy to be represented by the likes of Boris?? President Blair???

GSTQ!

Thank you GA for a warm reminder of seeing my favourite stand out attire of the Queen on her Silver Jubilee. Having lived a very exciting ‘Tom & Jerry’ life with plenty of scrapes and near misses, l am surprised l’m still here for the Platinum.

Her floaty sugar pink coat and dress had deviated from her formal tailored look and the delicate fabric fluttered in the breeze.
As a costume maker, l was fascinated by the brimless hat design. The cascade of teeny silk flower bells on stems of organza rouleaux bobbling as the monarch turned her head. l hope its in an exhibition somewhere.

My college chums and l sat in a big group on rugs in St James’ Park til very late that summer night animatedly chatting to other Londoners. We were excited for a reason just to be together.
Many of us were children of immigrants to this country who grew up knowing we were fortunate because of our parent’s destiny.

The park the most packed l had ever seen it. Our London pigeons attempting sleep in their lime trees must have been bewildered by the cacophany of voices.

When time to reluctantly go home we ambled back to our cars in a huge throng, possibly parked just off Marble Arch along Edgware Road. Imagine parking that close nowadays.
l can still remember exactly what l wore with my waist length hair in 2 bunches so l could add extra red, white + blue ribbons. Skin tight jeans were THE uniform for our age group – stark contrast to the falling down ones today. We had our boots made at Cobblers to the World in Kings Road.

In recent years l saw the heavy Gold Coach at The Royal Mews looking totally immovable. Designed centuries ago almost as if not destined to budge.

As an added bonus, the woollen red tunic of the Waterman’s Doggett Coat and Badge was on display in the Mews, alongside the other spectacularly embroidered uniforms of English pageantry.

Mr Doggett, an Irish actor in London funded the first race of apprentice Thames River boatmen to win the huge badge to adorn the sleeve of their red coat.

l’ve yet to stand on a bridge over the Thames to watch the Waterman Apprentices very tough boat race, rowing against the strong tide.
Next year … l promise myself.

There are so many traditions handed from grandfather, father to son l feel proud to personally observe in my travels and have yet to learn about from this gentle blog.

Kafka and Nietzsche also saw them as silent , divine messengers, magical beings, allowing us to wordlessly share in their presence and sense their gaze.

It’s a shame to see horses co-erced into such sad and submissive roles.

‘Aristocrats’ still fetishise these symbols of power, class oppression and violence. A cursory look at the tabloids will show you that, with endless pictures of these royals on horseback, often with whip in hand if on a carriage.

Even the high-end designer manufacturers reify objects such as horse reigns, buckles and leather straps.

Since many rich, status aware people can’t actually ride horses around the inner-cities, the symbols will have to do, and they are proudly worn on designer head-scarves and shirts and even bags bear these images.

It’s all so Freudian and mythic-Jungian.

Don’t buy into it — unless of course, you enjoy peonage, feudal subservice, ritualistic reification and submissive fetishisation.

Who would have thought that 45 years later we would be celebrating the Queen’s Platinum Jubilee! Long live Her Royal Highness Queen Elizabeth II !

Love & Peace
ACHIM