Prince William gave the interview to help raise money for a new children's cancer wing at the Royal Marsden Hospital in London. In the clip at left, William talks to Alice Marples, a cancer patient at the hospital, at Clarence House, his father's London residence. William says that if he could make himself invisible (not unlike the boy wizard) he would go to a newspaper office and "hide in the background and listen to all the stories they talk about me."

Britain thrilled to the 1960 wedding of Queen Elizabeth’s glamorous younger sister, Princess Margaret, and debonair photographer Antony Armstrong-Jones (soon to become Earl of Snowdon), the first commoner in four centuries to marry a king’s daughter. But while it seemed the 29-year-old Margaret had finally recovered from her heartbreak over Captain Peter Townsend, many close to the newlyweds saw trouble ahead.

Princess Margaret was always a royal firebrand. After an unhappy romance with married courtier Townsend - "But when, at Queen Elizabeth II’s coronation, on June 2, 1953, the Princess lovingly picked a piece of fluff from the lapel of her lover’s tunic in plain view of all the television cameras in Westminster Abbey, their secret was out" - Princess Margaret became known for bitchiness with staff, brattiness with the Queen Mum and a wild (read: promiscuous) streak.

At 28 she was at the height of her beauty and charisma, poised, stylish, and groomed to perfection. In one of the elegant evening dresses that made the most of her petite figure, swathed in furs and glittering with diamonds, she was an icon of glamour. She was imperious, and if she was bored, she showed it—at one small supper dance given in her honor, when her host asked her, “Ma’am, will you start the dancing?” she replied, “Yes—but not with you.”

"Tony" Armstrong-Jones was an insolent hipster from an aristocratic background with a string of women, who wouldn't put up with airs and graces. She was a challenge like no other—even to take the Queen’s sister on the back of a motorbike was something almost unbelievable, and the thought of a relationship overwhelming. Tremendously impressed by the Princess and all her qualities, Tony was also enormously proud of himself for becoming her lover. Each was a person of extraordinary sexual magnetism, with a libido to match. When they entered each other’s force field of attraction, their mutual gravitational pull was irresistible, and soon they were sexually besotted. That their passionate love affair was completely secret added to its intensity.

When the pair got engaged, everyone flipped out, although the public ate up the romantic match.

Margaret made an exquisite bride. Her dress, designed largely by Tony and his friend Carl Toms, though ostensibly by Norman Hartnell, had three layers of organza over tulle. With it she wore her magnificent Poltimore tiara (known to her intimates as “me second-best tarara”), high and regal-looking with its stylized diamond leaves and flowers scintillating against her dark hair. Her wedding ring was of Welsh gold—some of the gold from which the Queen’s wedding ring was made had been set aside for Margaret—her high-heeled shoes were white, and she carried a bouquet of white orchids.

Weirdly, they danced to music from Oklahoma! making the whole thing a precursor to Minnelli-Gest.

Marriage meant Tony needed a makeover, an end to his career, and an allowance. They had a lavish social life (involving Dudley Moore) but, obviously, they grew to hate and resent each other. "The Princess was royal, but Tony was magnetic, and wittier." The "wit" manifested itself in telling her to wear ballgowns to jeans and tee shirt affairs. The next fourteen years of their marriage were predictably miserable. And hence the recipe is complete: a dash of parties, a few outfits, plenty of money, a dash of "I don't know why I'm still reading this" and a little ennui and unhappiness, and you've got your Vanity Fair sepia piece, one of life's most reassuring pleasures.

The Princess And The Photographer [Vanity Fair]

Zara Philips' rakish topper is kinda Nancy Cunard-ish, which is to say 1930s haute bohemian. Do you ever think about how you'd dress if you were a royal? No? Oh...um, me neither.


I'd thought there was some kind of prohibition against rakish black togs, but obviously princess Beatrice would know that kind of protocol better than I.


Liz is looking ever so slightly Tyrol...a nod to German antecedents?


Princess Eugenie's beret situation may verge on uninspiring, but the color combo is sharp.


Camilla's hair is as mysterious as ever, but the services of whoever the royal milliner (and there are probably a few, because I know some of them use Philip Treacy and you know the Queen's not using Philip Treacy) are being put to good use.

[Images via Getty]

The Los Angeles Times:

The duke ought to be the villain of this piece, and, in fact, he is, but it is the wonder of Fiennes' performance that it is not only a marvelous portrayal of absolute power in the flesh but also the most sympathetic portrait of a man who, by rights, shouldn't have even the tiniest drop of our regard.

Twice Oscar-nominated (for "Schindler's List" and "The English Patient"), Fiennes works in the subtlest ways, layering in everything from how he carries himself to the way unstated emotions are hinted at by his stone-like face, to present someone who can't help being who he is. Thanks to Fiennes, we come to understand the enigmatic duke as the immovable object deeply perplexed at having to contend with the unstoppable force that is his wife. It is a quietly complex performance almost beyond words, and it overshadows all the gorgeous pictures that are its elegant frame.

Time:

At a certain level, The Duchess is a parable, possibly even a fantasy, about female empowerment.

Fortunately for us, however, it does not linger often or long at that level. As movies like this go — stately homes constantly arustle with the sound of lingerie falling gently to the parquet floors — it is quite a lively, and even occasionally a rather touching, piece.

USA Today:

Though it does have occasional elements of a bodice-ripper romance, the engaging story is distinguished by sharp writing and strong acting. This is a highbrow and elegant chick flick that outstrips the likes of The Women or other insipid movies targeted to females.

The Duchess explores the nature of celebrity and charisma. Most compellingly, it chronicles the saga of a vibrant and forward-thinking woman hampered by the constraints of a rigid society.

Salon:

The raw material here would be a pile of riches for any actress to dig into, and the screenwriters give Knightley plenty to work with. (The script was adapted by Dibb, Anders Thomas Jensen and Jeffrey Hatcher, the last of whom is the screenwriter, and playwright, behind "Stage Beauty," as well as the writer of the underappreciated bonbon "Casanova," starring the late Heath Ledger.) And Knightley doesn't let them down. I've come a long way with Knightley over the years, from finding her almost unbearable to watch (I just couldn't get past the skeletal planes of her face) to falling in love with her circa "Pride and Prejudice." Knightley's performance here veers gracefully from the charming to the devastating: One minute she's giggling as she plays cards with her cherubic little offspring; the next, she's crestfallen when she realizes that her husband is determined to choke off all her life's happiness. (Fiennes' performance here is wholly without vanity: He holds nothing back in playing a loathsome, stubborn character, though he still manages to let glimmers of humanity peek through.) Everything Knightley does rings true and clear — she defines the character of Georgiana in a way that's not anachronistic, nor modern in a forced way, but timeless. That's a lot to ask of a young actress, but Knightley is up to the task. Her Georgiana is history with a human face.

The New York Times:

A big-boned beauty who leads with her jaw, Ms. Knightley looks pretty as a Gainsborough picture in and out of her silks and satins, but she’s not a remotely composed one. Though now 23, she still tends to throw herself around the room like one of those jangling adolescent girls who, arms and legs pinwheeling, heads bobbing like Halloween apples, have yet to adjust to their newly sprouted bodies. (Modigliani would have loved the willowy bend of her neck if he could have persuaded her to stop fidgeting.) She’s not much of an actress — she pops her eyes instead and thrusts out her chest — but she doesn’t need to be Helen Mirren if she can cultivate a real screen presence. Stillness would become her, as would a good director.

NPR:

And when Her Grace undresses — or rather, is undressed by an impatient if only vaguely attentive duke on their wedding night — the director shows us the pinch marks made in Knightley's back by her tight-laced corset.

As many times as I've watched women getting strapped into those things in costume epics, I don't think I've ever seen the pinched flesh. Says worlds, I'd say, about what both the star and the duchess were willing to put up with

The A.V. Club:

To some extent, The Duchess recalls Sofia Coppola's Marie Antoinette, in that it's about bed-hopping and courtly ritual during a time of revolution. Dibb isn't interested in delivering an audience-unfriendly art film, though. His Duchess is thoroughly populist and middlebrow, full of all the high wigs, thick powder, perfect diction, and straightforward dialogue that define bodice-ripping prestige pictures about silently suffering souls. Knightley's brand of muted iconoclasm has always been well-suited to just these kind of coach-and-corset movies, and as a result, the story of her character's fall from idealism to practicality becomes fairly moving. Dibb and company make too much of the parallels between Georgiana's story and that of her most famous descendent, Lady Diana Spencer, but at the same time, the "ironies of fame" material works well—not because of its specific application to the aristocracy, but for how it relates to the commoners. Lots of people dream of better lives for themselves and the citizens of the world. And lots of people stop short when they realize they need to stay home and tuck their kids into bed, so the next generation can have their own unfulfilled dreams someday.

Entertainment Weekly:

But with Knightley in the title role, something interesting happens:
 The star's sporty, modern-girl
 attitude, her Vogue-worthy eyebrows, 
and her athletic build (no matter how impressively those long limbs are encased in complicated gowns of satin and silk) lend an attitude of now-ness to a production that wants to be part historical biopic, part 
 tabloid-relevant. (Director Saul Dibb has a background in documentaries.)

Knightley, now 23, is not a very deep interpreter of her roles (whether in Atonement or the Pirates of the 
 Caribbean trilogy), nor is she as hip as Kirsten Dunst and the rest of the in crowd who cavorted in Sofia Coppola's 
fashion-forward Marie Antoinette with downtown élan. But that hardly matters in The Duchess.

New York:

Every turn is telegraphed, but Fiennes’s duke is a fascinating stiff—uneasy with his privilege but ruthless in using it. Not only is Knightley most excellent, her starved-supermodel look adds an affecting subtext: that the economic impact of male disapproval still inhibits women’s freedom.

Variety:

How Georgiana exploited both her celebrity and her instinctive empathy with commoners to drum up electoral support for her close associate, Lord Charles Fox (an underused Simon McBurney), is dealt with only superficially. Though equally apolitical, Sofia Coppola's "Marie Antoinette" displayed more insight into its subject (an acquaintance of Georgiana's, and arguably the less interesting figure) than "The Duchess" manages with its more straightforward reading of history.

While Knightley ably embodies Georgiana's easy wit, occasional naivete and ahead-of-her-time common sense, her performance is somewhat diminished by its familiarity and the film's reductive view of its protag. And as lovely as the actress is, all that finery can have a smothering effect; she looked more radiant amid the sweat and squalor of Joe Wright's "Pride & Prejudice."

The Hollywood Reporter:

The melodrama is a bit bloodless, though, figuratively and literally. This is a not-uninteresting chapter during an exciting time in British and European politics — neither the American nor French revolutions get mentioned — but writers Dibbs, Jeffrey Hatcher and Anders Thomas Jensen find no way to connect us with these distant personages. Probably the most surprising thing to a modern audience is how aristocrats engage in the most intimate and embarrassing conduct in full view of servants who are treated as little more than furniture.

'The Duchess' opens today in limited release.

[December 22, Buenos Aires, Argentina. Image via Bauer-Griffin.]

• American Idol finalist and sex-tape star Jessica Sierra, whom you may have last seen smoking naked in a bathtub, is pregnant. The father is a "rapper." Sierra remains in a Florida jail, though she is now in the infirmary on a "pregnancy diet." [TMZ]
  
• Hey, have you heard the rumor that the father of Jamie Lynn's baby is rapper and fellow Nickelodeon star Lil' Romeo? Yeah, we hadn't either, until now. But here it is! So... yeah. [The.Life Files]
  
• Meanwhile Casey Aldridge, the reported babydaddy, has been avoiding the spotlight and gone into hiding. "He doesn't want to say the wrong thing to the media," a pastor in his hometown said. "At the right time he will speak." Casey was class president and campus favorite at his high school and the principle says "He was just a super dude." Well okay then. [USA Today]
  
• Also, Casey is 18, not 19, so no statutory rape. Apparently. [CelebTV.com]

• And Casey wants to marry JLS, says the same pastor. (Though in OK! mag, JLS said she had no plans to get married.) [NY Post]
• Nickelodeon, the network on which JLS is a star, is considering airing a special about sex and love. Uh, how about condoms? [CNN]
• And, not that anyone asked, but Facts Of Life star Lisa Welchel has applauded JLS for keeping the baby. "I'm so proud of her for stepping up and being courageous and taking responsibility for her choices," she says. [ABC News]
• Britney Spears bought her sister a tank top bedazzled with the phrase "Hot Mama 2 B." Sigh. [MSNBC]
• Heather Mills' lawyers may sue her for £2 million in unpaid fees, ugh. [Telegraph]
• Sting and wife Trudie Styler have pictures of half-nekked ladies in their bedroom! Oh, they're Helmut Newton prints. Classy! [Daily Mail]
• Is there trouble in paradise for Kelly Ripa and hubby Mark Consuelos? Sources say she's pissed that he had "goo goo eyes" for co-star Nadine Velazquez on the set of his cable movie Husband For Hire. [MSNBC]
• Pam Anderson and Rick Salomon may have fought because she was a "cozying up" to illusionist Criss Angel while Rick was at a poker tournament. A friend says, "Their relationship is so volatile [that] I'm sure this won't be the last time she files [for divorce] but nothing happened with her and Criss; they were just hanging out." [Page Six]
• Gwyneth Paltrow's 3-year-old daughter Apple Martin walked into a store in the West Village and started "speaking a mile a minute and telling the clerk that her dad was taking her to see the new Alvin And The Chipmunks," says a source. Dad Chris Martin was a few seconds behind her and ushered her out. [Page Six]
• Once, Moby was in Kiev and it was so hot that he called the front desk and asked for a fan; the concierge replied that he was sorry but there were no women in the lobby. Badumbum. [Page Six]
• The Spice Girls' Sunday show was less than full and some ticket agencies were selling seats at slashed prices. Is the girl powah gone? [Page Six]
• Stephen Colbert and Jon Stewart are heading back to work: Their shows will both resume production January 7, without the writing staffs. Should be interesting! [E!]
• The L.A. County Sheriff's department has investigated whether Mel Gibson and Paris Hilton received preferential treatment after their arrests. The verdict? Yes. Obvs. [ET]
• Leonardo DiCaprio says he got beat up by drug dealers when he was growing up. Yikes. [Mirror]
• Eva Mendes on learning that Jamie Lynn Spears is pregnant: "It's an epidemic, I hope I don't catch it!" [The Sun]
• Vanessa Redgrave is helping two suspected Al -Qaida operatives: She paid half of their bail and says, "Guantanamo Bay is a concentration camp. It is a disgrace that these men have been kept there all these years." Their lawyers argue that there is "not a shred of evidence" against them. [Telegraph]
• Camilla, the Duchess of Cornwall, wanted to boycott the Royal Family's Christmas celebrations because she is not being shown enough respect. She believes junior royals and members of the Queen's household look down on her. Eh, they probably do. [Daily Express]
• A toy and flower shop owner prayed for a miracle to save his struggling business and poof! Brad and Angelina showed up. Christmas miracle! [TMZ]

[London, December 13. Image via Bauer-Griffin.]

• Actor Djimon Hounsou is the new face of Calvin Klein underwear for men and took "months" at the gym to prepare for his photo shoot. One of the flagship billboards is being erected around the corner from our apartment. [Fans self]. [WWD, sub req'd]
  
• Gisele Bundchen is in talks with Bono to star in U2's next music video, which is almost as admirable as being in talks with Bono to personally eradicate poverty. [Vogue UK]
  
• Yves Saint Laurent was released from the hospital with a mild case of hypochondria. [Vogue UK]
  
• Abercrombie & Fitch is expanding its European presence with the opening of stores in Denmark and Sweden. We assume they'll have better luck with the class-action, race-discrimination suits in Scandinavia. [WSJ, sub req'd]

• Fucking tsunamis! If it weren't for them and, uh, terrorism, people would actually want to buy new clothes for Christmas. Or something. [WWD, sub req'd]
• Quote of the day: "The problem is that today, everyone wants to be a handbag designer and wants to touch some kind of reptile." Spoken by one bitter Carlos Falchi, accessories designer we've never heard of, on being cornered out of his market by snake-loving girls with whom we are not friends. [WWD, sub req'd]
• The family Beckham isn't the only thing coming to America from across the Atlantic. Today we learn we are getting a visit from D&G jewels. Which may be only nominally classier. [WWD, sub req'd]
• More news from abroad: France's First Lady Cecilia Sarkozy is apparently a quick study. After causing a national outrage for wearing Prada to her husband's inauguration (An Italian designer! On a French woman! Mon dieu!!) Mercifully, she stuck with Dior for official Bastille Day festivities. [WWD, 3rd item]
• Louis Vuitton is commissioning an art exhibit for its Champs-Elysees flagship store titled "Moscopolis," featuring 11 Russian artists who are creating pieces to invoke Moscow. Memo to Japanese tourists: Book your flight today! [WWD, final item]
• No more fur for Guess! We care because we totally shop there. [WWD, sub req'd]
• The ballet-memorial for Gianni Versace commenced last night with Donatella Versace saying that she coud not "think of a better way to mark this anniversary." Except for maybe sixty lines of coke and six hours at the tanning booth. That would probably be better. [Vogue UK]
• In designing jewelry for the royals, one day you may be in, and the next day you may be out. Auf weidersehen, Garrard. Queen Elizabeth will no longer be needing your services. [Portfolio]