A Brief History of the Private Life of Elizabeth II (20 page)

The first walkabout took place in Wellington, New Zealand, in March that year, though the Maltese claim that the Queen made precisely the same sort of informal progress in the streets of Valetta
during a visit three years earlier. In Wellington the Queen and Prince Philip, with Charles and Anne, were due to attend a function at the Town Hall. They arrived by car, but instead of simply
being driven to the entrance and leaving onlookers with no more than a glimpse of waving glove, they disembarked in the square outside and walked – slowly, for long minutes – all the
way round the building to its front door. In the process, thousands of people saw or photographed them, hundreds called out greetings, scores shook their hands and dozens spoke with them. This was
no more a spontaneous event than anything the Royals do when on duty. It had been suggested, and planned, by the city authorities as a way of involving local people more closely in the event. The
second one took place a few months later in Coventry, and it too was a huge success, setting a pattern that has been followed ever since both at home and overseas. Naturally the royal party would
divide a crowd between them, walking on different sides of a street. This was much the same thing they were already doing when meeting the guests at a Palace garden party. It was an effective way
of ensuring that onlookers felt some sense of contact with them, though it could be unfortunate if people were audibly disappointed with the one they got.

In a sense, this new form of encounter between sovereign and people was asking for trouble. It made life extremely difficult for security staff to have the Queen moving
slowly through crowds and pausing all the time, for they could never anticipate when someone would catch her eye and cause her to stop. It is a tribute to those who look after her safety that they
have been able to carry on with their task – and remain unobtrusive – in spite of it. The manner in which the Family behaved was much as usual: the Queen smiled politely and accepted
bouquets. Philip and Charles made quips. Royals usually tend to ask the same sort of things: ‘How far have you come?’ ‘How old are you?’ ‘Did you pick these
yourself?’ ‘Do you live near here?’ ‘Beautiful day, isn’t it?’

That these questions are often bland does not in any way make them trivial. By necessity they must be easily answered, to save the need for lengthy explanations. It is not rudeness that makes
such conversations brief, but fairness. Given the demands on her time, if she spent five minutes talking to one person another half-dozen would not get to meet her, and she must therefore spread
herself as thinly as possible. Contact, interaction, a few seconds of fellowship between monarch and subject, are all that is required. For those who meet the Queen is it the fact that she spoke to
them, not what she said, that matters.

Her Majesty is not bored by these encounters. For one thing each occasion is different, each crowd made up of new people. For another, she enjoys the chance to see her subjects close to, and is
genuinely
interested
in hearing where they have come from. Although she accepts bouquets from numerous well-wishers, she never seems burdened. After holding one for a few minutes she will
discreetly pass it on to those who accompany her, and bystanders become used to the sight of a man in a suit juggling bunches of flowers. There are always at least four people following her –
her Private Secretary, her Equerry, her protection officer and a lady-in-waiting. Her Majesty, like
all Royals, will never give an autograph, just as the Palace will never
accede to requests for a signed photograph. The Queen is not a celebrity and does not behave like one.

This is not to say that she will not oblige people in other ways, if possible. When she was still a Princess and was to visit South Wales a woman wrote to say that, on the day, she would stand
in a particular spot – a hilltop at Barmouth in Merionethshire – and wave a white tablecloth. Unbeknown to her entourage, Elizabeth was looking out for her as she was driven through the
town. Spotting the cloth, she stopped the car and spent several minutes talking to her. Well aware of the trouble people often take to see her, she will make herself as visible as she can.

Her appearance is always similar. Although naturally the cut and colour of her outfits will vary, the basic elements remain constant, and there is a reason for everything. The most important
point is that she should be conspicuous. She must stand out in a crowd so that those who have come to see her will not be disappointed. Even if they glimpse her only as a tiny figure in the
distance, they will recognise her and be able to go home feeling they have ‘had their money’s worth’. This is why she wears suits and dresses and hats of a uniform colour, often a
pastel shade such as pink or pale yellow or orange. It was Queen Mary who began this practice of dressing in pastels, so the Queen is the third generation to do so. On occasions when she has been
with other royal ladies – her mother, sister or daughter – each of them would be dressed in a different colour so that distant crowds could distinguish them. The shade of her costume
may well, of course, be chosen to reflect her circumstances. If she is visiting the Irish Guards, for instance, it may be assumed that at least something she wears will be in ‘St
Patrick’s blue’, the colour of their regimental hackle.

The Queen is always formally dressed in public. She wears accoutrements – a hat and gloves – that by the 1970s were rarely still seen on ladies. Those she meets on official visits
will be dressed up, and she cannot look less elegant than they do. She always wears gloves because she must shake hands with dozens if not scores of people at a time, and they
are often white so that her waving hand will be visible to distant onlookers. To avoid bruising on these occasions, her handshake is deliberately limp and she keeps her little finger out of the
way. For this reason, too, she wears no rings on her right hand. On her left she has only her wedding and engagement rings, and her gold and platinum watch, a gift from France, is always worn
outside her glove on her left wrist.

Her skirts are carefully tailored to ensure that they never blow in the wind, and must allow for the fact that she is often seated on platforms above others. Her hats should not have brims so
wide as to hide her face, and must not be so flimsy that a gust of wind will carry them off. The style she favoured during the 1960s and 1970s was therefore the kind of head-hugging
‘helmet’ shape that could be put on and forgotten. In later decades she would conspicuously favour brimmed hats with high, flat crowns, and these too make her noticeable. Her hairstyle
is the result of careful planning. Until the 1960s she had a side-parting and a looser, more girlish look. By the time she reached her forties she had the swept-up, tight and tidy arrangement she
has retained ever since. Inconspicuous yet familiar to the public from her portraits on banknotes, this is such a part of a national image that to change it would seem almost like redesigning the
flag. For practical reasons her hair must not be liable to blow in the wind, fall in her eyes, get out of place or hide her face. Its style must also make it possible to put on a wide variety of
hats, including the crown, quickly and without difficulty.

Accessories – shoes, bags, hats – are designed to be interchangeable so that they can be worn repeatedly. Her hats, especially, can be reinvented by adding or removing bows. Her
shoes are high-heeled – they give her additional height – but they must be suitable for the vast amount of standing
she is obliged to do. Even her posture is
therefore a matter not of natural inclination but of forethought and training. As one author commented: ‘The Queen is on her feet more than the most hard-worked nurse.’ She is
well-practised in standing and – adopting a posture with her feet slightly apart and her weight therefore equally balanced – she can remain thus for hours without drooping, looking
tired or otherwise showing the strain she must feel. Her footwear must also enable her to step over awkward things such as ship’s cables and get up and down a gangplank. She carries a
handbag. Early in her reign this was often of the ‘clutch’ variety – small and without a strap. She quickly learned that this was a liability for it permanently occupied one of
her hands, and she replaced it with the type that can be hung from her arm, enabling her to accept flowers, carry an order of service or shake hands.

When she is on official business, she must be accompanied at all times by another small bag that is not noticed by the public (her lady-in-waiting usually looks after it). In it are the things
she would need in an emergency – spare gloves, spare tights, barley sugar to clear her throat. Since she cannot look in the least untidy she, or her staff, must be able to undertake running
repairs whenever necessary. When Prince Charles was a very small boy accompanying her by car to an engagement, he jammed a half-sucked sweet into the finger of her glove moments before she was to
appear. Replacements were produced within seconds. The Queen’s gloves, of which she has scores of pairs, are infinitely washable and can also be dyed, which enables them to be worn with any
number of other outfits.

People often do not really notice what she is wearing, especially since her costumes can look very similar. They certainly do not appreciate the amount of planning that goes into her appearance.
There is no such thing as a randomly chosen garment or an accidental ensemble
.
Everything she wears is the result of meticulous preparation far in advance. Even if she is receiving for 20
minutes the commanding officer of an army
unit, she will have on a brooch with the regimental crest – and may then replace it with something else for her next audience.
For a typical visit – and in any year there are about 30 trips to various parts of Britain, quite apart from those she makes overseas – planning starts months ahead and every item is
chosen, made or cleaned. For her Jubilee in 1977, deciding on the dresses she would wear for the tours and other celebrations began in 1975. Any new garments will be fitted at the Palace, where
there is a room for that purpose filled with mirrors and wardrobes, and she has never been seen in clothes that did not fit perfectly. Nor, through the attentions of a careful dresser, does she
have the kind of minor accidents that may plague other women. As one author has said: ‘It is a tribute to the care with which her clothes are planned that this most photographed woman in the
world has never been seen to hitch up a shoulder strap, tug at a hem, pat her hair, fidget with her brooch, or fuss with her hat.’

New clothes are being made for her all the time, but this does not mean she simply throws away the old ones. Quite apart from having a thrifty nature, she knows that such extravagance would be
unacceptable to the public. Her dresses are worn often. One which she will, for instance, first have used on a state visit abroad will appear again for a regional tour in Britain, for an audience,
and for an informal luncheon. The clothes she wears are, to her, largely props – accoutrements that are necessary for the performance of her official function. The wardrobe she chooses in
private life is, by contrast, that of any genteel farmer’s wife – tweed and wool skirts, cotton day-dresses, headscarves, clothes for riding, walking in wind and rain, handling dogs.
Her garments are invariably simpler, more practical, more comfortable, and surprisingly often are off-the-peg, though they would always be altered to fit her. She wears Daks skirts, and Burberry
and Barbour coats. The public is accustomed to a somewhat old-fashioned look, and expects her to be rather out-of-date. Although she sometimes
wears trousers when on holiday,
the thought of Her Majesty in a trouser-
suit
is hard to visualise. When she was seen briefly in just such a garment – while boarding ship for her Scottish cruise in the summer of 2010
– many were genuinely astonished.

As she passes through throngs of people in her car, she is given to waving in the posture that has long-since become famous, with her wrist elevated and her hand swivelling. It has frequently
been joked that this is a mechanical arm attached to the car window. In fact, such a gesture (it was actually invented by her mother) makes perfect sense. It enables her to keep on waving for long
periods without tiring her arm, which rests on the windowsill. There is no equivalent means of maintaining a smile, and only determination and practice can keep this in place. The Queen has
complained that, no matter how long she smiles, someone will get a picture the instant she stops and assume that she is miserable. There are many pictures of her apparently looking glum. They are
usually taken while she is in a passive situation, such as listening to a speech. Owing to the cast of her features, it so happens that when her face is in repose, the corners of her mouth turn
down, suggesting bad temper when, in fact, her expression is simply neutral. If she is interested or amused, on the other hand, her smile is charming. It has to be seen, in real life and at close
quarters, to be fully appreciated. There are other minor worries for someone so relentlessly in the public eye. The Queen always wears three strings of pearls. In an open vehicle in hot weather,
the sun could burn her skin and leave the mark of these on her neck. She is obliged to sit holding the necklace away from her – a difficult thing when she is expected to wave as well.

In between duties, she relaxes in the manner she prefers – the
Daily Telegraph
crossword, walking the dogs, assembling jigsaws (these are often laid out on a table and she will
spend a few minutes on them as she passes) and watching television. She shared with her subjects a liking for
Dad’s Army
, for she,
like her mother, enjoyed this
nostalgic romp with its innocent humour and wartime camaraderie. She was also known to watch regularly
Edward VII
, one of the historical epics produced at that time, and which covered every
stage of that monarch’s long life. Naturally she had a close interest in the subject, and was greatly disappointed when, owing to some official business or other, she missed an episode. This
was, of course, before the availability of video-recorders, but within days the BBC had forwarded her the necessary reels so that she could catch up.