Opinion
Catherine gets it – being honest doesn’t always feel terrific, but it gets the job done
Kate Halfpenny
Regular columnistStepping onto the Buckingham Palace balcony after Trooping the Colour, the Princess of Wales looked like she hadn’t missed a beat during her six months away from the public eye.
Colour-coded children under control, upcycled dress that wouldn’t upstage, smile matching that of her husband and the in-laws. Tick, tick, tick. Kate’s glossy My Fair Lady return was a masterclass in not just doing what you do best to keep the masses happy, but in controlling the narrative.
Catherine, Princess of Wales, made her first public appearance over the weekend.Credit: Getty Images
While all eyes were on the princess, somewhere in the private tangle of offices at Kensington Palace, her communications team must have been high-fiving like mad. Successfully producing a happy, healthy-looking princess is their best PR move since the global fiasco surrounding news of her shock cancer diagnosis.
Of course, having the mother-of-three back on the job briefly opened the gates for new conspiracy theories, ironically because she looked so awesome. Kate’s glossy hair, radiant skin, were proof that what she’s really been recovering from is a facelift, it was claimed.
Yeah, that would totally be the reason. Not that she’s had world’s best practice treatments and six months of country seclusion with no stylists, no shaking hands with strangers, no schedules, just private time to think about summer clothes for her kids and the rubbish new Bridgerton.
And she’s had the benefit of truth serum.
Of finding out the hard way that being upfront is the way to go. That saying it like it is and letting the cards fall really is easier than the alternative.
A quick caveat: when honesty involves parts which are called private for a reason, it doesn’t always feel terrific.
Not wanting randoms to rummage mentally in her gynaecological bits, Kate has never said which part of her abdomen is being treated. King Charles stopped short of identifying his own cancer zone, lest we automatically think of his penis when we see him.
GWS star Sam Taylor might have winced when his club baldly revealed his testicular rupture this week. Everyone else did, from imagining the ghastliness to wondering if it was too much information. But the club’s transparency was necessary, especially at a time when medical issues are a hot button topic for the AFL after the controversy over Christian Petracca’s internal injuries.
Anyone else remember when the Pakistan Cricket Board made the surprise move in 2009 of revealing on its website that fast bowler Shoaib Akhtar was out of the Twenty20 World Cup after being diagnosed with genital warts?
Until then, the PCB hadn’t necessarily been held up in world sport as a beacon of integrity, and suddenly, it was going there. Pretty extraordinary, when surely “skin condition” would have sufficed. Shoaib thought so too, saying later he could have sued. Too late. You can’t stuff that toothpaste back in the tube.
In the past, I’ve had a fluid relationship with the truth. It will be almost top of the list of things to unpack re: my psyche should I ever get around to therapy. For now, it’s enough to have cottoned on to the ease of honesty.
Truth is, I’m at an age and stage where I can’t be arsed with not being straight up any more. Being honest feels like a little pressie to myself. It’s the ultimate liberator not to have to keep track of which tale you told which person, to stop pretending mascots dressed as fruit aren’t creepy.
Using the golden weapon of honesty isn’t about being a goody-goody. More about saving time and energy rather than saving face. It’s like a trust fall without that awkward catching part. People are often taken by surprise, but respect it.
Start small. Tell your partner you ate the chocolate and don’t care and yeah, the shoes are new, and they weren’t on sale and aren’t they great?
It’s a skill that sharpens with practice and a fair old party trick because often people think you’re trying to be funny when you say, “I love paint-by-numbers and don’t know any Nick Cave songs.”
Anyway. Welcome back, Kate. Long may the openness reign.
Kate Halfpenny is the founder of Bad Mother Media.
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