Since the country of Monaco is embarking on a new reign for their throne, I thought it was only suitable that I share with you a hilarious and fun story of Grace Kelly's royal wedding. Eat your heart out, Kate!
Credit to "A Brie Grows in Brooklyn"
There is a lot of speculation about whether or not Kate Middleton will channel Grace Kelly at the Royal Wedding on Friday. She, of course, will not. As I have the good fortune of still being alive, I am affronted on behalf of the former Princess of Monaco…and all of her fucking bridesmaids too.
I’ve just spent the better part of three minutes reading about the betrothal between Prince Rainer III and Grace Kelly, and let me tell you, shit is bizarre. It’s like The Princess Diaries meets Arabian Nights meets The Barefoot Contessa meets the feudal lords of the Middle Ages, and it all takes place on the Hollywood sound stage of a Technicolor musical with a ton of blondes.
Ok, so basically what happened was that Prince Rainier III, in order to inherit his tiny kingdom of Genovia…I mean Monaco, had to get married. This was because of the Monacco Succession Crisis of 1918, in which France declared that all future rulers of Monaco, which was their client state, had to be approved by the French government. They were afraid that some German dukeling (what the fuck is a dukeling) was going to inherit the throne when the current Prince of Monaco, Philip—who was still childless and unmarried at the age of 48—kicked his proverbial champagne bucket.
Understandably, the French didn’t want a German ruler at one of their borders, especially not right after World War I. Instead, they wanted to waste a fortune building the Maginot Line, which the Germans just side-stepped on their way to conquer Paris in 1940. “At least we secured the border in Monaco,” they must have said to themselves as the Wehrmacht walked down the Champs Élysées.
Anyway, by the age of 30, Prince Rainer III still hadn’t married, and the pressure was fucking on for him to produce a male heir so that his family, the Grimaldis, could continue to rule a nation that is roughly half the size of Central Park, as they had done since the 15th century.
According to the Prince himself, however, he wasn’t looking for a consort, and even if he was, he would only settle for “the very best.” Fortunately for him, he met Grace Kelly.
Now, Grace Kelly, as we all know, was not only an American movie star, but also something of an heiress. She had come from Philadelphia’s fancy Main Line, where her father had made a fortune in the construction business.
She first met Rainier in 1955, at a photo shoot in Monaco during the Cannes Film Festival. Afterwards, they corresponded via mail for a few months. The Prince must have decided pretty quickly that she was the best because soon after their original meeting, he traveled to the United States, where he met Grace and her parents. Three days later, he proposed, and she accepted.
Before the marriage could go ahead, however, Grace Kelly had to agree to take a fertility test. Then, her family had to agree to pay Rainier a dowery of $2 million dollars. Let me say that again. $2 million dollars. In 1953. This is beginning to sound a lot like one of those poor prince must marry a rich commoner in order to keep his castles staffed with servants type of crap. It wasn’t that type of story, however, because Prince Rainier was the richest bachelor in the world.
Grace’s father was outraged by the demand, but Grace begged him to accept. It was rumored that she paid half of the dowery herself.
My dad would have been like “See ya!” and never talked to me again.
To seal the deal, the Prince first gave her a ruby and emerald “friendship” ring, just in case the $2 million check bounced.
(Cop out!)
And then he bequeathed her with a 12-carat, emerald cut diamond rock to seal the official engagement.
Plans were set into motion for the civil ceremonies, which took place in April 18, 1956, and the Catholic wedding in a church, which took place on April 19. The planning was elaborate, and as is customary for all Royal Weddings, the subject of much media scrutiny.
In preparation for her wedding, Grace basically told everyone in the industry that she was giving up her movie career to marry a man she barely knew who ruled a country not much larger than my neighborhood in Brooklyn.
It’s unclear to me why she had to do that, in 1955, but I get the sense that Rainier didn’t want his princess dirtying her hands with a career that even Grace’s father felt was one step a way from prostitution. (And we all say we’ll never marry a man like our father…)
(God, I love the dresses in To Catch a Thief)
Alfred Hitchcock, ever judicious, conceded his muse to her royal fiance with the following statement: “I’m very happy that Grace has found herself such a good part.”
On April 4, Grace Kelly departed on a steamer from New York harbor with her family, her six bridesmaids, her poodle, and over 80 pieces of luggage.
Tucked somewhere in a bundle of tissue paper was her wedding dress, which was designed by MGM’s Academy Award–winning Helen Rose, was worked on for six weeks by three dozen seamstresses. It was made from antique Valenciennes rose point lace, twenty-five yards of silk taffeta and ninety eight yards of tulle. Her veil was covered with appliquéd lace lovebirds and thousands of seed pearls.
It is the most beautiful thing that I’ve ever seen, and if I ever get married, I plan on diving for seed pearls myself so that I can replicate it exactly.
Prince Rainier, on the other hand, designed his Napoleonic influenced military attire all by himself.
In order to be released early from her 7-year MGM contract, Grace had to agree to let the movie studio film her wedding. So on the big day, a film crew joined her, and transmitted every second of the ceremony, which included bequeathing Grace Kelly with 142 royal titles, to a television audience of over 30 million people.
Guests to the wedding included Gloria Swanson, Ava Gardner, Conrad Hilton, and a bunch of socialites and royals whose relative uselessness makes them almost completely forgettable in modern times.
Frank Sinatra was supposed to come, but decided not to at the last minute, for fear that he would upstage the bride. Rumors were that during the filming of Mogambo, the two had briefly dated, but that Grace Kelly had dumped him because, in not at all her own words: “I only like dating men with Napoleonic complexes that bear royal titles.”
There was some kind of breakfast after the ceremony for the subjects of Monaco, which I can only imagine was exactly like the scene in The Princess Diaries II when Anne Hathaway rides in an open carriage through the streets of Genovia, saving children in orphanages, and gaining the eternal loyalty of people inexplicably dressed like they’re smack dab in the middle of the German pavilion at Epcot Center.
After the wedding, the royal pair departed on a seven-week Mediterranean cruise aboard Prince Rainier’s yacht, Deo Juvante II.
When I’m reading about royal weddings like the one between Prince Rainier and Grace Kelly, I always wish that I could look at them as I would have as a child, meaning that I could see them as fairy tale dreams come true.
But instead, after reading about Grace Kelly’s fate, I can’t help but feel kind of sorry for her that she had to give up her career, her life, and her freedom. And for what? A few yachts, a castle, and 142 titles? For a life that didn’t seem to make her happy? For a husband who controlled her, and whom she supposedly cheated on frequently?
No thank you, I’d rather take my 350 square foot apartment in Brooklyn, with my closet full of Forever 21, and my fridge full of Trader Joe’s, and have my fucking freedom.
On second thought…
Apparently the new Prince of Monaco is being accused of a THIRD out of wed-lock, bastard child allegation. Definitely not 'Prince Charming'.
-Sorelle B D.C. edition
PS- Have a great July 4th weekend. Please firework responsibly!
But she sure can wear that gown...nam sayinnnnn
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