Queen is a sight to see 'dressed up' (From Bradford Telegraph and Argus)

Queen is a sight to see 'dressed up'

9:02am Tuesday 7th February 2012 in Emma Clayton By Emma Clayton

The first time I saw the Queen it was a bit of a let-down.

It must have been her visit to Bradford in 1974, when she opened the West Yorkshire Police headquarters. I was holding my mum’s hand as we waited with flag-waving crowds for what seemed like an eternity.

It didn’t matter that it was raining, and I needed the toilet. My mum told me this was a special occasion and, having never seen a real-life queen before, I was excited.

My idea of kings and queens came from story books. They lived in castles in magic forests and wore crowns, jewels and robes – all the time.

So imagine my disappointment when the Queen finally came into view. Firstly, she was in a car, not the golden carriage I’d seen on telly. Secondly, she wasn’t even wearing a crown.

From the brief glimpse I got of her, as the car swept by in the rain, she looked like my gran. I felt cheated.

Two decades later, I was herded into a press enclosure, covering a royal visit. The Queen was just a few feet away and, for a split second, she made eye contact with me. She still looked like my gran.

In a way, that’s part of her charm. In her powder blue twin-sets and matching handbags, she looks like a sweet old lady dressed up for church. It’s only when you see her in full Royal regalia, looking like a queen from my childhood story books, that you feel the ancient pull of our monarchy.

I have no time for the hangers-on of the extended Royal family – the Duke of Whatsit and the Countess of Such-and-Such – but I admire the Queen. In an increasingly mad world, she seems like a sensible soul.

And in a succession of mostly weak, self-indulgent kings ruling us over the centuries, the two Elizabeths are the best monarchs we’ve had.

Previous royal jubilees passed me by. My main recollection of the Queen’s Silver Jubilee is visiting my brother in hospital, where the nurses covered his bed in red, white and blue bunting, and during the Golden Jubilee celebrations, when Brian May was playing God Save The Queen on top of Buckingham Palace, I was in New York, having my purse stolen.

“Why aren’t you at home with your Queen?” the NYPD cop asked me when I reported the theft. I shrugged, fearing I was about to be extradited and beheaded.

Yesterday was 60 years since the Queen’s accession to the throne, and this time around I feel more patriotic. Hopefully I’ll get to see her crown this year.