Now while I wish them all the best, my overriding thought was "Goodness me, you'd not have to have a superstitious bone in your body to put that Rock on your finger". Maybe it was because Kate also choose to wear blue, that I had an instant flashback to Charles and Diana's engagement press call.
And sadly we all know how that story ended.
I'm not suggesting for one moment that William and Kate's relationship will travel the same path; they have been together a long time and seem happy, relaxed and, I hope, 'in love'. Whatever that means.......
However it hasn't stopped Elizabeth Emanuel being like a rat up a royal wedding drain; this is the 'sketch wot she drew' as a suggestion for Kate's dress:
I've got visions of her sat at home in her footless tights and Antenna hair extensions staring at a wall covered in pictures of Kate Middleton and silk tulle; part 'Dexter' part 'Whatever Happened to Baby Jane'. Scary!
Lizzie I'm just jesting; one of the first fashion reference books I bought was 'Style For All Seasons', I still own it and I still use it. Please don't make a voodoo doll of me and stick pins in it!
Which leads me rather neatly to Diana's wedding dress. It is inevitable that whatever Kate wears on her Wedding Day there will be comparisons to Diana's dress and lots of archive footage accompanied by talking heads where the phrases 'big', 'poofy', 'Fairy Tale' will be used with gay abandon and one or more jokers who will say 'Ohh, wasn't it creased'.
Yes, enormous Silk Taffeta Gown, small horse drawn carriage, these things happen and let's face it, with hindsight it wasn't the biggest problem of the day.
Princess Diana was, in many ways, The Last Fairy Tale Princess. A demure, beautiful, innocent girl who seemingly was swept of her feet by a handsome prince, just like in our bedtime stories. She wore pretty dresses and sparkling jewels and danced at the White House with John Travolta, (because unfortunately her Prince had two left feet, but we let that one slide) but then she got very sad and the truth came out and I think we were all just a little heartbroken.
First there was the Andrew Morton Book (which, at the time, my Mother considered an act of treason), followed by the divorce and then her untimely death. Only this time there wasn't a poisoned apple and a glass coffin and a Prince's kiss, just a rather ill-advised shrine in Harrods.
What I find fascinating about Diana's wedding dress (and I have found myself getting strangely obsessed in the past couple of years) is that every time I've seen it, it has had a different tale to tell.
The first time I saw it (in the flesh, so to speak) was fairly soon after the wedding. At the time there was a sort of travelling royal wedding show that went around the country so that the Hoi Polloi could have a look at the frock and the shoes and slices of wedding cake and the huge array of toasters that the royal couple had been bought as wedding gifts; that sort of thing.
So there it was in a glass case all shiny and new, symbolising Pomp and Circumstance and Royal matrimonial bliss. Ahhh, we all went, wouldn't be lovely to marry a prince.
The next time I saw it was about 10 years later (around the time that Andrew Morton's book was published), when it was part of the Royal Dress Collection at Kensington Palace. Still in it's glass case, but looking as if it had aged 100 years; like a media savvy Miss Havisham.
And the last time I saw it was at Althorp, in August of this year, where it just looked (for so many reasons) utterly tragic: