Forget the dress; what about those cars?

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My favorite aspect of the Royal Wedding: the 1969 Aston Martin DB6 Volante as getaway car.

I am not a gearhead. My husband calls me "the gearhead of the family," but every definition I have seen of that term includes "the ability to fix things mechanical," and right there, I fail the test.

I can change oil (although I don't), change sparkplugs, sparkplug wires, air filters and tires, but that's about it. I always wanted to take an automotive shop class, but I realized that life is too short for me to take classes in everything I am interested in.

Now, diagnosing noises, I'm pretty good at. I can identity loose valves, dry rocker arms, loose mufflers, aging fan belts, bad timing, and wheel bearings in need of repacking. That's more than most girls, but it won't get me far when I'm broken down on the side of the road.

My best friends in terms of auto repair are a wad of cash and AAA with unlimited towing. At least I have one of the two; I'll let you guess which.

A front view of the post-wedding trip around the Mall.

But the passion for cars and things mechanical part of the gearhead description fits me to a T. So I guess I'm a gearhead wannabe. I wish I knew how to fix cars, although I'm not very fond of getting dirty.

But you know you have gearhead tendencies when you don't get terribly excited about Prince William's wedding to Kate Middleton until you find out they drove away in a 1969 Aston Martin DB6 Volante.

Yep, that Aston Martin, one similar to James Bond's.

It belongs to the father of the groom (Prince Charles, in case you haven't been paying attention), and it has been reengineered to use bio-fuel made from waste from the English winemaking process. Didn't know England made wine? Join the club. I'll have to ask my future son-in-law the oenologist what he thinks of British wine.

Since he's heavily into French Bordeaux, I can only guess his answer. I am fond of British beer, that's all I care about.

My response to the Royal Wedding was like women who don't know a thing about football, but don't want to be left out of Super Bowl festivities, so they pick a team based on the team's colors, uniforms (or "outfits," depending on how really lame the woman is), or mascots.

The Royal Wedding was an English patriot's dream: English dress designers (Sarah Burton), composers (Sir Charles Hubert Parry), hymns ("Jerusalem," with lyrics by William Blake, among others) locations (Westminster Abbey), and of course cars.

What anti-Church-of-England poet Blake would have thought about his poem being turned into a patriotic hymn is anyone's guess.

Those who don't have gold horse-drawn carriages in their garage like QE II does, arrived in limos or Range Rovers.

Kate Middleton arrived at Westminster Abbey in the Queen's 1977 Rolls Royce Phantom VI, a Silver Jubilee gift from the British automobile industry. The claret and black colored vehicle has recently been restored after rioting students splashed paint on it while Prince Charles and that woman were inside.

Queen Elizabeth's Rolls Royce Phantom VI.

When the queen uses it, the Rolls Royce hood ornament is replaced by one depicting St. George, the patron saint of England, slaying the dragon. The Queen Mum had a hood ornament of Britannia holding a sceptre.

 I am thrilled that Kate's dress had long sleeves, and commentators were saying it was trend-setting. They made it sound like wedding dress designers were racing to their drawing boards to sketch fashionable dresses that older and more modest brides could love. If so, I can only say hallelujah, and it's about time.

Dowdy mothers and grandmothers of the
 bride. The photo doesn't do the Queen's
yellow dress justice.

Sadly, it comes too late for me. You can read all about my search for a non-sleelevess dress here. 
I'm engaged in the same fruitless search now for a dress with sleeves for my daughter's wedding. Do designers have any idea how many women should not be showing their arms in public? Under any circumstances?

I have a choice: I can wear a "mother-of-the-bride" suit in some disgusting pastel like the Queen (seriously, was that the brightest screaming yellow you've ever seen?), or I can frighten the congregation by displaying my ugly upper arms.

Looking for dresses with sleeves now is like looking for clogs and platforms in the 1980s. Don't think I didn't try; at 5'1," I don't want to wear ballerina flats. I feel like Linda Hunt in them.

So, I am looking forward to being able to buy a cocktail dress with sleeves. I'm not counting on it, but it would be a welcome change.

My husband was thrilled about the Aston Martin getaway, and it prompted him to write "All the best people leave their weddings in British sports cars" on Facebook, since we left our reception in my MG.

Of course my car is hundreds of thousands of pounds cheaper than Will and Kate's ride, but never mind. I just can't imagine how she got that humongous train jammed into that little car. There was no was I could get my dress into my MG, I left in jeans,