Life in a golden cage. Life in a golden cage

Life in a golden cage - the wife of a rich husband.

Once, in that past life, I did not take seriously the stories about the difficulties and problems of the wives of rich husbands, about life in a golden cage. And, ironically, I received them - a whole "bouquet" ...

Now I often recall half-joking conversations with my best friend, my classmate Zhenya. “I don’t really know what to do! she clutched her head before final exams. “Sciences are not given, I can’t do anything with my hands ...”

I answered her with the confidence of an oracle: the best profession for you is to marry a millionaire! Zhenya put forward a full package of counter-arguments to this: what if he gets greedy, will he wither over his gold - and give out pennies for hairpins? And if he, using the position of the “chief”, starts pushing me around? And if I feel bad with him, hmm? ..

“Well, you are strange, aunt! I sincerely wondered. - I'm not chasing you for some nasty Gobsek! We need to find someone so that there is love - and backed up by capital, that's it! Life in a golden cage - the wife of a rich husband.

Zhenya, as it turned out, underestimated her personal abilities. She famously learned English, won the "Green Card" - and now she already has her own souvenir shop on Somewhere Street ... And me? I have been married to a millionaire for five years.

Living in a Golden Cage - The Wife of a Rich Husband

Joint delusion

Our meeting was funny and a bit ridiculous - because it was too similar to the plot of some American romantic comedy. Once I was returning home late from the guests - and managed to get lost in an unfamiliar area.

I didn't even have a cell phone back then. The surroundings are completely empty. And now I see: some huge jeep with tinted windows is chasing me, flashing, honking. I walked away from him along the sidewalks, along the flower beds… Finally, a man who jumped out of the car grabbed me by the shoulders and… handed me the documents. “Don't go crazy,” he shook me, “I'm not a maniac.

I've been wandering around this damn area for an hour, all the houses here are the same, like in a nightmare. And the navigator seems to be buggy. Can't you ask for directions? Then he had to solder me with mineral water for a long time: I laughed and could not stop ...

To be honest, I still haven’t really figured out what exactly Roman does. And even more so then. I don't understand anything about real estate transactions and I can't tell a concern from a holding. I'm more interested in life. At least organic.

I am a biochemist by profession. “This is probably a very dangerous thing,” the new acquaintance sympathized, while we traveled through the “maze” already together, “especially for such a pretty girl!”

I nodded sleepily and smiled, floating in the waves of jazz from the stereo system ... The cabin smelled of some completely different life. It seemed to me that all this was about to fall apart, like Cinderella's ballroom equipment from the striking of the clock. But when we got out and my "fairy" took me home, he firmly said goodbye: "Our miraculous salvation must be celebrated!" And held out a business card.

I made a gesture in return and scribbled my home phone number with a ballpoint pen on a piece of notebook paper. At the time of our meetings (he did not ask, he claimed: “We will have lunch there!”, “I will show you amazing place!”) I couldn’t understand why he didn’t turn around looking for a more luxurious young lady.

Over time, it seems to have come. There were plenty of young ladies, I was just, almost the only person whom he was not afraid of. That is, he was not afraid of a dirty trick, tricks, "setups." I spoke little, was a grateful listener and sincerely rejoiced at him. It never occurred to me that the “prince” might propose to me. That's probably why he did it...

Life in a golden cage by stages of relationship

I was waiting for his calls with a beating heart - and I had no doubt that this was love. Roman was always affectionate and attentive - and I was strengthened in the thought that the heartfelt feeling of restrained business men exactly like that.

He himself decided everything, directing me where he saw fit - and I swam according to the current he set. I told myself that I would resist if I wanted to. And so, since there is no resistance, it means that everything is going as it should!

Moreover, I noticed how my own attitude towards him gradually changed only after the fact. At first, I was childishly proud that such a cool gentleman was seriously interested in me. This is how a novice fisherman can rejoice, who was given a fishing rod - and he immediately pulled out a pood pike.

But by the time Roman presented me with a white gold ring with an inflorescence of small diamonds (that is, this proposal was also not a yes or no question, but a statement of fact), I was already seriously in love. Always confident, strong - and at the same time neat and calm, he admired me more and more.

Difficulties began when I moved into the “nest” acquired by my husband (he had at least one more apartment in the city, which he called “office” - and often stayed there to “work” and “think”). Moreover, the difficulties are just of the kind about which I, meeting them in some talk show or melodrama, frowned: “Marivanna, I would like your problems!” Asked - received.

What are ex-Cinderellas complaining about? “I lack self-realization, and he ties me to the house”? “I feel dependent, but he does not hide the fact that he looks down on me”? All this “mandatory program”, in sports language, I “rolled back”.

Roman insisted on the scheme he had learned from Gogol: "he got married precisely so that, freeing himself from petty worries, he would give everything to his homeland." My job is to command the cleaners and give instructions to the delivery service. And my socially useful work is of no use.

He said: "infinitely small efficiency" - and gave a lot of reasonable arguments. I could not convincingly counterarguments, and I became silent, myself beginning to believe that science and medicine would survive without me, and I without them.

I tried to be creative with household chores and at the same time find something for my soul: I took up floriculture. But Roma quickly stopped my aesthetic impulses, limiting them to a loggia.

And he politely but firmly asked not to make significant changes in the house, up to the change of curtains, without his consent. Now I began to feel like a caught fish: going out onto the loggia, I wanted to convulsively grab the air with my mouth.

Life in a golden cage is a habit as a substitute for happiness

In my youth, I did not complain about timidity and softness, but in the case of my husband, I realized that my character is actually a rag frivolous. I absolutely did not know how to convince, prove, argue. Even "gently press" or outsmart. From the height of his height, he kissed me on the top of my head - and did everything in his own way.

So you would “oppose it if you wanted to”! He can always see better, even what style suits me, what juice is more useful. The charm dissipated, gradually replaced by irritation. Having talked closely with Roman, I began to think that it would be better to have a nine-hour busy working day - I would be less tired in my soul ...

I tried to act in the style of the stone on which I found the scythe. According to his plan, with which he kindly acquainted me, we were supposed to go together to some kind of presentation in the evening, he would pick me up at such and such a time, the dress code was such and such.

I left him a note that I had my own plans, put my phone next to me - and drove across the city to my college friend. By tram! Forests and fields began right behind her house. We absolutely luxuriously lay on the grass with a bottle of Kadarka, fed the squirrels, asked the cuckoos and dangled our legs in the rivulet ...

In the evening there was a scandal. I recognized my husband from another side - as a thunderer and lightning bolter. “First graders! Do you know the name of a person who cannot be trusted? Would you like to open a dictionary? I was sentenced to the punishment of "seizure" of my favorite jewelry. Yes, indeed, as with a child! ..

I was boiling inside, but I could not yell back at him, as if I were tightly covered with a heavy lid. I wanted to just silently turn around and leave ... But where?

I haven’t talked to my parents for several years now, a few school and college friends somehow gradually “dissolved” during my marriage.

Someone left, someone dealt with their own family problems (like that girlfriend with whom I spent the evening and who was crowded in a communal apartment with a bunch of relatives), someone simply disappeared in an unknown direction. Now I understand that in the company of me and Roma, people were uncomfortable. Of course, I could not call his social circle friends.

The next day, I thought long and painfully, weighing all the pros and cons. And I felt that I simply did not have the strength to radically change. I realized that I had become addicted to several types of addiction at once. Firstly, of course, I twitch and writhe in timid attempts to show independence - and yet I feel comfortable that all important issues are not decided by me.

That I can answer any claim: “I don’t know, this is for my husband.” Secondly, I am thoroughly accustomed to comfortable living conditions. I remembered the corner that I rented from an old granny before meeting Roma. I moved there as soon as I started earning my first independent money: I hadn’t had the moral strength for a long time to get along with my father’s daily drinking bouts and my mother’s harsh sermons - according to the views of her sect, I should have burned in hell ... Brrr!

It is equally unpleasant to remember the parental home, which was always “boiling” with quarrels, where no one needed anyone, and wretched rented housing. Now it’s hard for me to imagine how you can do without an air conditioner in the summer (once it went haywire, so I almost went crazy in a day until they fixed it) - but what about stripped Soviet wallpaper and leaking pipes ?!

Can I have zucchini caviar for breakfast after shrimp and avocado salads? It is one thing to live in need from the beginning, it is quite another to fall into it from prosperity. And in general, changes are terrible when life flows measuredly and steadily. Yes, “a habit from above is given to us” ...

Life in a golden cage - freedom is impossible

I still didn't put my hands up. Saying to yourself: “So you will ruin yourself as a person - do you need it ?!” I tried to somehow work on myself. I decided to read more and learn new things. I began to look at sites like “work for you”.

And even went to one interview. The salary there was low, but I really liked the people. "Well... how?" - the girl, the office manager, asked with sincere excitement when I left the boss's office. This live participation touched me. I felt it was time.

Get free. Break up with him. Start making a career. And generally speaking new life. Such short phrases I repeated to myself like mantras, returning home from an interview. Right now. I feel strong. The bright sun shines and the snow sparkles cheerfully. He needs to be told. Right today. Further it will be easier, the main thing is not to retreat before the first step ...

Taking a step down the icy stairs, I stumbled and thundered down. Something sharply burned, and everything around darkened.

Returning to reality, I thought sluggishly, as in a dream. Some two unfamiliar young guys fussed around me. They asked me where it hurt, if I could move, they felt my leg. The leg hurt Diko, and did not want to move.

They argued heatedly. “Do you remember much about first aid?! Don't you dare do anything yourself!" We fussed. We were looking for a tire board. They called an ambulance ... All this time I was like somewhere not there. I thought of calling my husband only from the hospital. "That's your style," he remarked dryly, "I'll be right there."

I will not retell all my hospital torments. Roman, of course, quickly transferred me from the ambulance to some good, as he puts it, hospital - and still, all my fractures (I managed to “break” in several places in one fell swoop) healed slowly and incorrectly.

For a very, very long time, I wallowed, studying the patterns of cracks in the ceiling. Then they started teaching me how to walk. Doing this without a crutch seemed completely impossible.

When the masseur began to knead and twist me (saying with a sadistic intonation: “now we’ll work it out!”), I tried to crawl away from him in my arms in horror: it hurt so much ... As a result, I received a disability of the second group.

And thus became doubly dependent on the one from whom she was going to dissociate herself for so long while still healthy.

During this time, our relationship with Roman was reduced to some completely lifeless "tick". As I understand it, he is tired of me, and he himself no longer understands why he “picked me up” then. But as an honest person, he cannot expose a lame ...

Yes, my husband did not leave me to the mercy of fate. He feeds, waters, pays for treatment. But I feel his indifference - already so strong that I seem to myself the maximum indoor flower which is watered once a day. The novel has a life of its own. Almost all the time, if he does not go somewhere “on business”, he spends in another apartment. He communicates with me in two words: "Hi" and "Uh-huh."

He obviously meets with some young ladies, judging by the playful chirps from his phone, which are heard every time he comes in ... And he settled with me some distant relative of his. He killed two birds with one stone: he attached a poor aunt, and he didn’t leave me, an illness, without help and alone. In general, life is normal, well-established. Want to get out…

Life in a golden cage - do I have the right?

One day my phone "highlighted" unfamiliar numbers. “You gave me your number…” someone stammered, embarrassed. - I remember how you were seriously injured then ... I'm worried ... How is your health? It was one of my "rescuers". Wow, I didn’t remember at all that I gave him something! ..

But the attention was so nice! During my illness, my loneliness increased even more: guests ran to me no more than once a month, averted their eyes and tried their best to talk about trifles so as not to step on my corns, reminding me of my problem.

But “in the confused explanations of this kid, I didn’t feel anything unpleasant and awkward at all! I got emotional, complained from three boxes and invited the guy to come in. Without any such bad idea. Moreover, Romanov’s aunt is inseparably present here ...

Lesha brought flowers. Ordinary small fluffy chrysanthemums. And then I realized that this is exactly what I have not seen all these five years with diamonds and air conditioners ... “Are you sure you live here? - the guest was surprised. “Here, in the atmosphere, nothing at all looks like you! ..” The remark was, as they say, not on the brow ...

... He does not leave hope that I will tell him "yes." Because I am firmly convinced that without love and understanding one can wither away in the most “comfortable environment, and with it no illnesses and hardships are terrible. “And how do you imagine our life, Leshenka?” - “Yes, wonderful! In any case, equal… Why are you shaking your head? Are you afraid of difficulties? But they are not so scary when you fight them together!”

Yes, the speeches of lovers are so fiery - it seems they can turn the whole world upside down with one word! .. I myself feel that I agree with him and am ready to build a paradise in a hut ... But at night I can’t sleep for hours: damned questions climb into my head. “Yes, why should I spoil his life, young and healthy, such an invalid?” “What if he soon gets tired of the difficulties with me and finds another - how will I survive this?” »

But how are we going to fight these very circumstances - he earns a little, I don’t know how to earn money now, and medicines and procedures eat up so much money ... ”I wake up in the morning - and! I immediately want to fall asleep again in order to get to those places where there is no need to fight with anything, run away from anything, decide nothing ...

Life in a golden cage - Says a practicing psychologist:

"What should I do?" - a man asks when life confronts him with a choice. I would like someone to suggest, direct, as before a stone at a crossroads, which direction will be safer. And yet no one can make this choice for the one who is in front of him. Because there are no guarantees and unambiguity in life situations.

And someone else's decision will not help you listen to yourself, feeling all the pros and cons of your own situation. Dependent state (first of all - psychologically dependent) really weakens a person, his capabilities, his ability to realize himself.

Therefore, the desire to break with him is natural in any person who has not yet turned into a “free application” to someone or something else. But, running away from one addiction, it is important not to fall into another. After all, if the old attitude to life is preserved (“I was chosen”, “they decide for me”, “I am helped”) - where is the guarantee that the same difficulties will not begin in the new “decorations”?

In order to free yourself from other people's pressure, you must, first of all, develop a willingness to make decisions on your own, take certain steps, take full responsibility for them, say a clear “yes” and “no” to what you like - and to what you is unacceptable.

Before learning the science of harmonious compatibility, everyone has to learn to communicate with himself.

Life in a golden cage is a woman's story.

I am 25, I grew up in an ordinary intelligent family: my mother is a teacher, my father is an engineer. She was always eccentric, cheerful, left one university, then entered and nevertheless graduated from the second. At 22, I met a man much older than me at a disco. Well, 20 years difference, in general. Divorced, have children, have not lived together for a long time. At first it was just beautiful courtship on his part and the usual female "let it be" - on mine. Then he began to call more often, pick me up from the university, and very soon I moved in with him.

We have been living together for three years now. We have a special "set of rules": I do not work, I sit at home, I go to any beauty salons, I communicate with anyone I want and meet his guests with a smile and joy, if he does not come alone. Clothes, cosmetics, other needs, he pays me in full. We travel together, eat in restaurants, thanks to him I met people with whom I would never have a chance to communicate in ordinary life. It seems to live - I don’t want, what else is needed. So it was in the first year: I constantly had fun, did not deny myself anything, lived like a princess.

Now everything is different. I am almost 26, I want a family and children. I tried to start a conversation about it, but my man said something like: "I already have children, two of my own and you the third, that's enough for now." My relationship with my friends has completely deteriorated. Many of them already live with their husbands, have children, live from penny to penny and openly say that I am a kept woman, a lazy person, and we are not on our way. I know that they are simply jealous of me, and I can’t do anything about it. In general, I rarely communicate with some of my circle of acquaintances: a hairdresser and a gym partner - these are all my friends. All the people with whom I spend a lot of time are his colleagues, classmates, partners, friends and relatives. At first, he told me not to go to friends, to devote time only to him. And now there is no one left, nowhere to go. My parents are very delicate people, and yet my mother began to say more and more often that my man does not love me and just uses me. And on the one hand, she really likes that her daughter is provided for, on the other hand, she cries and asks to leave him. I used to be sure that we love each other. Now I doubt if he needs me. And I don't know how I feel about him. Love? Habit? Respect? Unwillingness to live independently?

I tried to get a job, went to two interviews. The salary is beggarly, office daily work is exhausting and useless. Going to work just to prove to the world that I'm not dumb and can make money? Don't want. Now I'm trying to find myself, to do some kind of creativity. I don't know if I am anything without my man. I don't know if there's a future ahead of us.

Finally, I want to say that my life is not such a fairy tale. Okay, let's say I'm a kept woman. However, firstly, a kept woman is not a prostitute. I know that we had feelings, at least at the very beginning. Secondly, I invest a lot in myself, I work worse than the rest: I must look my best, and without makeup, too, I must stand out at least in some way, speak a foreign language (almost all of his friends and partners are foreigners), always be keep abreast of events, be an interesting conversationalist. I have perfect manners, good conversational speech, there are no pimples and PMS, I play the piano. I just got confused and went into a protracted phase of transition and don't know where to go next. One of my acquaintances from the gym, a glamorous girl who has been living with her "daddy" for seven years, said that I am mad with fat, everything in life suits her. I just understand that I'm stuck somewhere on the border: I can't be a beautiful doll who is only interested in money. But also to live, love and create ordinary family also doesn't work.

Angelica

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Hugh Hefner with his girlfriends Bridget Marquardt, Holly Maddison and Kendra Wilkinson in 2008

Like Oh! already reported, the other day Hefner proposed to his 24-year-old sweetheart Crystal Harris and gave her an engagement ring. Hefner's playboy image has helped him make the Playboy brand what it is, and the news of his impending marriage to a woman who could be his great-granddaughter will help him maintain his image as a lovable old swindler who still has gunpowder in his flasks. This is what attracts celebrities to his parties at the legendary mansion in Los Angeles. Among the entertainments there is a playhouse with two bedrooms, in which, in addition to a bed and a mirrored ceiling, there is only a telephone. Actors Charlie Sheen, Leonardo DiCaprio and Colin Farrell were among those who enjoyed life at Grandpa Hugh's house, according to the memoir of former blonde Hefner harem resident Isabella St. James. It was enough for the stars to snap their fingers, and any of the "bunnies" was ready to serve them, recalls St. James.

Legendary Playboy Mansion

So what is really going on behind the shiny facade of the mansion? Judging by the memories of former "bunnies", this is a dirty world in which girls feel that they are no better than ordinary prostitutes. They get pocket money from an 80-year-old crazy old man who also pays for their plastic surgery, which makes them look like his ideal, and who is forced to take huge amounts of Viagra to withstand sex with them.

One of the former girlfriends of the aged founder of the Playboy empire, Isabella St. Jayes, in her book Bunny Stories. My Two Years at the Playboy Mansion Described the Order at the Hefner House

Hefner's portrait of St. Jays in his book Bunny Stories. My two years at the Playboy Mansion”, extremely hard-hitting. The pretty blonde with a law degree met the living legend when she was 26 at a Hollywood nightclub in 2002. He soon invited her to move in with him and live in his house with seven of his other official girlfriends. Hefner at the time preferred to have between three and 15 of these girlfriends at a time. One of the girls became a "beloved wife", that is, girl number 1, she was allowed to sleep with him in his bedroom, in which the rest were only guests.

White carpets, worn out mattresses and dog poop

“Our bedrooms had strange furniture that didn’t fit together, as if someone had gone to a flea market and bought only the bare essentials for each room. Although we tried to decorate our homes, make them more homely, the mattresses on our beds were disgusting - old, worn and stained. The sheets were also not new. I managed to convince Hef to pay for new mattresses and bedding, but in return I had to collect all the checks, and only after that he paid for them. Hef, after much persuasion, allowed us to make repairs and stick new wallpapers, for some incomprehensible reason he insisted that they be white color. He wanted his girlfriends' rooms to look very girly, with white carpets and pink walls. It looked very cool at first, but when two dogs live in the room (most girls had their pets, I had two pugs), butlers bring food, dirty shoes and constant spills, the carpet was gray and stained after a few months. However, Hef is used to dirty carpets. In one of his bedrooms, the carpet hasn't been changed in years, and it got worse when #1 girl Holly Maddison moved in with her two dogs, who did their thing right on the carpet. Late at night or early in the morning, if we happened to go into Hef's bedroom, we almost always stepped on dog poop. Everything in the mansion is old and worn, and Archie's dog regularly peed on the curtains in the hallway, adding a strong smell of urine to the general smell of decay."

Hefner at a party at the Playboy Mansion with party girl Paris Hilton and his then-time "beloved wife" Holly Maddison. 2006

For sexuality and obedience - monetary reward

Many girls endured these conditions for the sake of a dream - to be on the Playboy centerfold, others admitted that they agreed to live in a mansion for the plastic surgery paid by Hefner, which he gave for their birthdays. But St. James - who was heavily in university debt - was more interested in the weekly pocket money Hefner paid his girls: "Every Friday morning we had to go to Hef's room, wait for him to pick up all the dog poop off the carpet, and then demand his salary - a thousand dollars in crisp banknotes from his personal safe. We all hated this procedure. Hef always took the opportunity to complain about the things he didn't like about our relationship. Most of his complaints were about the lack of harmony between girls - or your sexual inactivity during "parties" in his bedroom. If one of us went to the city and missed one of its official exits in night club he didn't give us money. He used it as a weapon." No salary was given for violating any of Hefner's strict rules. “When I moved into the mansion, I had no idea that I would lose all my freedom. The strictest rule was a curfew. Everyone had to return to the mansion before 9 pm - unless we went to the club with Hef. People don't believe us when we talk about the curfew at the crazy Playboy mansion."

Another model, Kendra Wilkinson, now 25, met Hefner in 2004 when she was hired to pose as a living statue at one of his parties, completely naked with only painted accessories. She soon moved into the mansion and lived there until 2009. She recalls that the staff recorded the time each of the girls left or returned to the mansion. Hefner pored over magazines every morning, which, according to Wilkinson, drove her crazy. "Yes, he was more strict than my parents in my entire life!". There was some freedom on Wednesdays and Fridays, the official release days that were preludes to the sex parties Hef hosted twice a week in his bedroom. The girls drove to the club in a white limousine that was trimmed in leopard skin with Playboy bunny logos on the seats. Along the way, they were drugged with Kualalud sedatives, washed down with Dom Perignon champagne. “Hef once told me that these pills turn girls into a sexual mood,” recalls Kendra. The joy of being outside the mansion after curfew was quickly fading - Hefner went to the same clubs night after night. His guards vigilantly ensured that the girls did not communicate with other men. Around midnight, writes St. Jace, Hef took his dose of Viagra. “After that, he immediately looked at his watch to make sure we left on time, because if we didn’t do it or he miscalculated, he couldn’t have sex with us. We had to line up like goslings and leave the club one after another.

Crazy orgies without condoms

One of those who witnessed the preparations for the orgies was model Jill Ann Spaulding, who in 2002 wrote a letter to Hefner asking him to put her photo on a Playboy centerfold. Despite the fact that 20-year-old Jill has attached photos of herself in the nude, she says she was not ready for what happened when she was invited to live in a mansion for several days and participate in one of the sex parties. All the girls were told to take a bath: “I got into the bath, then another girl came and jumped in on me,” she recalls. “Then Hefner came and took a picture of us naked in the bathroom. All this was very strange. Then they took me to Hef's bedroom. The only light came from two televisions that showed porn movies. All the girls were wearing pink pajamas. If you were wearing pajama bottoms, that was a sign that you didn't want sex that evening." According to Jill, of the 12 girls present, only she and another refused to have sex with Hefner, who did not use a condom. “Sex was unprotected, we were not tested for STDs,” she says. Isabella St. James is more outspoken about having sex with Hefner. “I wanted to know that the seasoned King of Sex knew something we didn’t, but he just lay there like a dead fish. We often thought about why he needed it at all. He himself deep down understands that this is just a show, but he continues to embody the fantasies that he has been trading since 1954. He wants to be the living embodiment of the image he himself has created.”

Jill was still hoping for a Playboy spread, but she wasn't about to sleep with Hefner. At the second sex party, she again came fully dressed in pajamas, and the other girls let her know that this would not work: “I was scared. They were all looking at me, including Hef, who was lying on the bed - they were just staring at me. I firmly said that I could not join them. Hef was pissed as hell and one of the girls hissed at me for upsetting him. I didn’t care that his face was twisted with anger, but they left me alone,” recalls Jill.

At first glance, it seems that the life of the Duchess of Cambridge is like a fairy tale: she is married to a prince, lives in a palace, shines at receptions in designer clothes and family jewels. However, this beautiful life has a downside - Kate has to unquestioningly follow the royal protocol and give up many seemingly harmless things. In order not to fall out of favor with Elizabeth II, the wife of her grandson, Prince William, is obliged to carefully monitor her image and behavior in public.

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Can't sign autographs

Despite the fact that Kate Middleton is not at all against informal communication with fans, you are unlikely to see her caption photos or postcards to strangers. The fact is that he can put his signature only on official documents.

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It seems to many that members of the British royal family can afford whatever they want. However, reality is infinitely far from this illusion: monarchs, like no one else, honor centuries-old traditions and, frankly, outdated rules. Even the closest relatives of the ruler of Great Britain do not have the right to violate the protocol of the royal court, which, as you know, is distinguished by principles and rarely makes concessions.

The wife of Prince William, Kate Middleton, also had to get used to the strict rules. The girl grew up in a very wealthy, but not at all aristocratic family, so after her engagement to the heir to the English crown in October 2010, she had to go through a real “school of princesses”. Even before the wedding, the etiquette expert explained to Katherine all the subtleties of her future position. Freedom-loving Middleton had to come to terms once and for all with the fact that, having become part of the royal family, she would never again be able to do just what she pleases and wear the outfits that she likes.

Whatever you do for the sake of love and position in society: Katherine quickly learned the rules and put up with the conservative views of her husband's influential relatives. As it turned out, the royal protocol implies a lot of prohibitions. And this applies not only to overly open or, conversely, informal clothing, but also to other aspects of life.

Recently, Western journalists drew attention to the fact that the Duchess of Cambridge for all six years of marriage with Prince William. As it turned out, Queen Elizabeth II insists on using nude shades. The monarch herself, for example, since 1989 has been faithful to the same delicate color of nail polish.

Kate Middleton never wears bright nail polish because of the rules of the royal dress code

In addition to beauty and fashion bans, there are many more rules of conduct that Kate had to get used to over the years. For example, during dinner with the queen, no one can continue to eat if she has finished eating. Those who hesitate, consistently leave the table with a noble feeling of hunger.