Princess Margaret's morning routine is something we should all try to emulate

You’ve probably got yourself a pretty steadfast morning routine - one for the week and one for the weekend, and it’s not one to differ unless there’s something particular on the go, which, let’s be honest, there isn’t. You may even enjoy this routine - if it ain’t broke, don’t go tinkering around with it in a vain attempt at repairing it, you busybody.

However - and I say this with absolute certainty - your morning tenue is nothing on Princess Margaret’s. Yes, the Queen’s legendary sister had an absolute bender of a morning observance - really cramming it all in, she was, lovely stuff.

According to Ma’am Darling by Craig Brown, it went, a little something, like this:

9am: Breakfast in bed, obviously - probably something ultra nice like lobster or summat - no Pop-Tarts for this countess. Then, she’d just lie there in bed for two hours, listening to the radio, reading the newspapers (which were then thrown onto the floor - yes) and chain-smoking blems like a right royal Pat Butcher

11am: Her maid runs a bath for her and she jumps in for an hour, because there’s nothing else to do and baths are wicked

Noon: She’d have her hair and make-up done, before whacking on a load of well-expensive clobber. “As one would imagine of a Princess, she never wore any of her clothes more than once without having them cleaned.” Haha, yeah same

12.30pm: A goddamn vodka, and there ain’t nowt you can do about it

1pm: A four course lunch with her mum, “served in an informal manner from silver dishes” (yes, very informal). Lunch included “fruit and half a dozen different varieties of native and Continental cheeses”, which - apart from the fruit, clearly - sounds like my kind of lunch. Oh yeah, and they’d both knock back half a bottle of wine, each. Even more my type of lunch

I mean, what a morning. I can only imagine what comes later on in the day - I might have to buy Ma’am Darling and find out, because I quite want to live this exact life from now one. She was having a great time - it really pains me to contrast it with my Saturday morning routine:

8am: Wake up, even though I went to bed at 6am and am, by law, allowed a lie-in. Stare at ceiling for an hour

9am: Finally go for the wee I’ve been holding in for an hour

9.05am: Get back into bed and put the telly on. Ignore television and ‘have a go on my laptop’ for a bit. Then watch a horror film

11am: Skip the shower, I don’t need to leave the flat until 11pm. Go downstairs. Stand in front of open fridge for a minute or so. Take out slice of cheese, pour Sriracha sauce onto it, fold it over and eat it. Close fridge door and leave kitchen. Do 180 degree turn at bottom of stairs and return to kitchen to repeat Sriracha-cheese ritual

11.10am: See flatmate in living room. Both say at the same time “You were fucked last night”. Open can of beer ‘as a joke’. Drink it. Suggest pub

11.30am: Shock early shower. Head to near establishment

Noon: Buy a Jagerbomb ‘as a joke’

1pm: Reflect on life choices ‘as a joke’

1.05pm: Die ‘as a joke’

(Image: Rex)