Clik here to view.

Thirty years ago I wore a Don't Do It Di badge to an anti-royal-wedding bop and found my own prince
So, Camden council in north London is not allowing republicans to have their own street parties. What a lost opportunity. My mind goes back to 29 July 1981. I am watching the royal wedding of Charles and Diana with my friend Pam. We wanted to watch as a sort of ironic laugh at ourselves for caring about Di's dress, aware that we were feeling slightly hypocritical as two feminists with a guilty secret.
Di looked so young and virginal and Charles so wooden and awkward. As for The Kiss – so sexless and clinical! The hype around the wedding was massive, with paparazzi ruthlessly following the naive Diana in her see-through skirt. Articles focused on the fact that she was a virgin – with the unwritten message that this was appropriate for the future queen of England. The fact that her husband-to-be had been quite a lad and was considerably older was never questioned. Not much changed since King Henry, then? It was hard to be seriously militant about it, as it seemed such an archaic event, albeit one we are brought up to believe in – young girl meets prince, and happy ever after.
Street parties were being organised, but most of my circle agreed that the amount of money, energy and airtime being devoted to this event was absurd. Surely, we said, we don't need a royal wedding to give us a sense of community? If anything it was divisive, as those who criticised it were painted as "anti-British" traitors.
To counter my sense of disquiet about having watched the damn thing I decided to restore the equilibrium – that evening I headed off to an anti-royal-wedding "bop" (how outdated that sounds now) at the local poly's students' union bar. What fun we had, with our "Don't Do It Di" badges on! We were celebrating with like-minded people who felt the royal family was ridiculous and out of date and rather funny. We were making a stand, but enjoying ourselves too. We did genuinely believe that the young Diana needed some protection from the royals and the church (some prescience there, perhaps?). As feminists, some of us wanted to undermine the virgin-to-the-slaughter dynamic. But we had music, dancing and drinking; we had lots of fun.
My life was to change for ever that night. My friend Sam had been playing tennis with his schooldays chum Tom (when the wedding was on, so it was easy to get a court), and with nothing better to do than protest about the wedding Tom came along too. We talked and danced all night and when we left we arranged to meet again. I said to my friends on the way home: "I'm in love!"
We have been with each other ever since! Yes, on 29 July this year we will have been together for 30 years. We have lasted longer than Chas and Di – in fact, something very good and long-lasting has come out of what turned out to be a rather sad story.
So who needs an occasion to mark the royal wedding now? Certainly some work colleagues will be watching it with hankies and flags. They'll have mugs with the engagement photo on. Good luck to them. I do not agree with any of it, but everyone's entitled to their opinion. Which is why us republicans have to be allowed to have our own party too – there are a lot more of us than the media would have people believe.
Kate and Wills seem much more normal and equal as a couple, and I would attend an anti-celebration simply to mark my dislike of inherited power and wealth. But mainly I just hope that somewhere in this country on 29 April two normal and unassuming people will meet and that it will be the start of something new and exciting for them. Let's come out on to the streets, using the royal wedding as an occasion to protest or to celebrate. And on 29 July, Tom and I will be celebrating something real and solid. Up yours, Camden!