Britt Stephens on a Complicated Coronation Day
The American journalist who lives in London takes us with her to watch the crowning of King Charles from a pub in Mayfair, complete with bubbly and ‘boos.’
Hello! As we all think through King Charles III’s coronation, I wanted to share another guest essay reflecting on this moment in Windsor history from a longtime royal watcher. American journalist Britt Stephens takes us with her to watch the crowning in a London pub.
Britt and I first connected years ago when she was running celebrity and entertainment coverage at PopSugar, including royal news. She wrote about everything from where Kate Middleton lived before marrying Prince William to how it felt as a Black woman when Meghan Markle was labeled “difficult.” The Duchess of Sussex inspired her to quit her job in 2020; Britt wrote a fantastic essay about that, too, over on her Substack, which you can read here. Last summer, she packed her bags and moved to London.
Below Britt shares her coronation viewing story, including how the hectic day unfolded, why her mother was on her mind, and who the people in the pub were booing.
Click below to listen to Britt and other longtime royal watchers in Episode 5 of the So Many Thoughts Coronation Podcast; we chatted ahead of the coronation.
And check out my initial thoughts after the coronation, recorded Sunday morning, in Episode 7. More from me coming soon as I continue to think this day through!
Thank you for your support of So Many Thoughts, which makes it possible for me to pay contributors! If you haven’t already, please consider upgrading for $5 / month.
Britt Stephens on a Complicated Coronation Day
Meghan Markle skipped the coronation and I probably should have, too.
I’ll back up. I’m an American living in London. I got here just before the Platinum Jubilee and saw the city shut down (from tube stations to comedy programming to food banks) after the queen’s death a few months later. Now it’s coronation time, and I’m conflicted.
I’ve followed the royals since childhood, to varying degrees. My mom was a massive Princess Diana fan, so my early understanding of the monarchy revolved around her dresses, divorce, and death. It was Kate and William’s wedding in 2011 that kick-started my fascination in a bigger way. I wrote about fashion for PopSugar at the time, and it was impossible not to get sucked in; after months of constant coverage, my casual interest developed into a full-blown obsession. My enthusiasm was piqued by staring at the Lindo Wing doors and hit a fever pitch when Meghan showed up in ripped jeans.
But it all began with Diana. According to my mom, Charles was “a snake” and Camilla was “a home-wrecker” and the royal family “fed its own to the wolves.” I was aware that there were three of us in the marriage so it was a bit crowded and I understood that if sides were to be chosen, we were firmly on Team Spencer.
My mom died this past January. When I woke up on Coronation Day, I could feel her in my heart. I thought about how early she’d be up watching from the States, and the text I would have gotten badmouthing Camilla’s outfit. The gray, rainy weather only made it heavier. I considered staying in, but I’d booked a table at a pub near Buckingham Palace to watch the event with a friend. I reminded myself how much my mom would have loved that I was here to experience it.
I pep-talked my way out of the flat and onto the packed Tube, which was shockingly the least stressful part of the journey. Even with the shorter procession route, it seemed like almost every street was closed off or designed to funnel the crowd through tighter side roads, like I was trying to make my way around a music festival where every headliner is performing Bach. I lost count of how many umbrellas poked me in the head or shook water in my face. A panic attack was loading. This was a mistake, I thought.
My friend called to tell me that he, too, was soaking wet and stuck in the crowd with no way to make it to our booking in time. The difference was, he was thinking positively and trying to come up with a new plan. Obviously, I snapped. How dare he stay calm and level-headed!
“Why am I out here?” I said. “I don’t even care about this!” After threatening to turn around and go home, I realized I’d made my four-poster bed and had to lie in it. She won’t go quietly! I hung up, then funneled my rage into finding another pub in the only direction I could walk. I made it to Rose and Crown in Mayfair just in time to see Charles playing with a sword, then an orb. I texted the location to my friend, who arrived 30 minutes later after traversing Hyde Park in a hailstorm. We could not have been grumpier. It took a bowl of chips and two glasses of bubbly to lift the mood.
I am not religious but I am a sucker for church architecture and a good chorale. I thought the ceremony was beautifully choreographed, albeit a bit sad. Whenever Charles was on screen, someone would mention how “old,” “tired,” or “distressed” he looked. Even my friend did a double take: “That’s him?!” I felt a pang of sympathy. Of course he looks old and tired! His mother is dead and he has a duty to keep calm and carry on without her. His family is a mess. He’s starting a new job at 74, to miserable approval ratings. Distressing!
You could hear a pin drop as Charles was crowned, then cheers and corks popping. Some groups filtered out before Camilla’s moment, whether from boredom, or protest, or weariness. A woman near me commented on her “smug grin.” There were a handful of boos as the crown hit her head, which surprised me but also made me feel seen. Spencer Hive was in the building.
It’s commendable that Charles would insist on a multicultural, interfaith coronation that represents modern Britain, and for the most part I think he achieved that. However, it feels disingenuous to go so hard on diversity, equity and inclusion efforts in public when that compassion wasn’t extended to the diverse branch of his family tree. The king’s aforementioned approval rating and the anti-monarchy sentiment among young Britons also suggest that their relevance and popularity may be waning. People have real questions: What does the monarchy represent? Who is it really for? And is there a place for it in our post-Spare world?
Obviously, I was most excited to see how Prince Harry would fit in the spectacle. His return to the royal fold was going to be tense whether Meghan joined him or not. I was too late to catch him cutting up with his cousins in custom Dior, but the Instagram memes made me smile. I wondered if, like me, he got a kick out of the idea that Diana was literally raining on the parade, employing her signature brand of doe-eyed pettiness from the afterlife. I admire him for showing up, and Meghan for hanging back (though her style was certainly missed — the only looks that stood out for me were from Charlotte, Beatrice, and Penny Mordaunt, the sword bearer).
I’ll always feel disappointment in the monarchy for blowing chance after chance to evolve. The treatment of Meghan by the UK press, and the “institutional gaslighting” that she and Harry faced, have exposed deep-seated issues of racism and discrimination within the firm and made it difficult for me to continue following them. According to royalists, the monarchy is supposed to be a symbol of national unity and progress. If that’s true, we should admit that they ruined a perfect opportunity to reflect that within their own family.
Coronation Day was not what I anticipated. I expected better weather and didn’t consider being hit with a wave of grief (in hindsight, this was delusional thinking!). But I love a charade, so I tried to enjoy it for what it was: an ancient, overwrought performance with layers of history and complexity, largely meant to distract us from our problems. I was watching, but I can’t say I was celebrating. I didn’t join in on rounds of “God Save the King” or offer any hoorays when they were hip-hipped. A part of me can’t wait to see where the saga goes next, but with Harry and Meghan out, and Charles and Camilla in charge, I also wonder if my interest should stop here.
Since losing my mom, I’ve debated going back to California and starting over. Meghan skipped the coronation to protect her peace and maybe I should have done the same. Despite the day’s drama, I don’t regret going out and catching the vibe. Even if they didn’t wave a flag or pledge their allegiance, people were still in high spirits, buoyed by booze and a bank holiday. The rain subsided eventually. And there was a sense of community that lent itself to chatting with strangers, sharing space and stories, and booing Camilla — just what my mom (and Diana) would have wanted.
My sincere thanks to Britt! She has a fantastic newsletter, called
(click to subscribe); and you can find her on Instagram at @BrittSteps.
Loved reading Britt’s essay. While I watched, I also thought about how the diversity and inclusion in the coronation ceremony seems to contradict Charles’ family relations. On a similar note, did anyone notice in the wide shot of Queen Camilla’s official coronation portrait the Blackamoor objects on the mantel above the fireplace?