EXPLAINING to a baby that, as a second division member of the Royal Family, his life will be gilded and purposeless isn’t easy. Here’s the advice I’ll give him:
Focus on the positives of being rich
You may not be an A-lister like Wills, Kate or Queenie, but you’re f**king loaded whatever. When jealousy of their key roles opening leisure centres and patronising charities creeps in, I cheer myself up by buying vulval hats or a horse.
Kill time with skiing
At a loose end? Ask a servant if it’s winter, and if they say yes hop on a plane to Switzerland and ski until it isn’t. There are plenty of dense rahs there who won’t laugh at you for saying ‘Can we have the scrummy melted cheese again?’ without irony.
Get a bullshit job
I worked in New York as a ‘benefit auctions manager’. I do not know what that is. When you’re only employed because of who you are, choose something poncey with plenty of downtime. Freelance jewellery consultant, fashion house PR ambassador, and trend curator all add value to society.
Write a children’s book
Mum filled her time with ‘Hugo the Helicopter’ and nobody cared. Children’s books are easy because they’re for kids and you can turn anything into a character. Just this morning, over breakfast, I had a fantastic idea for one called ‘Peter the Dirty Plate’.
Stay in the loop
You may be no Meghan Markle, but turn up at the weddings. They’ll take pictures of you and you’ll feel like a real royal. Plus there’s always loads of leftover food. Just don’t screw things up, I think we know who we’re talking about here, Dad?
We royals are all over charities like flies on shit. Be realistic, accept you might not get the top gigs, and do your bit by wearing a gown and turning up to lunches for Save the Ecuadorian Wanking Monkey.