Originally posted by Flosshilde
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Mary of Teck ...
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Originally posted by scottycelt View PostThe celebrated lady's name certainly lives on in parts of Scotland.
After midnight, outside superior hostelries on Edinburgh's Royal Mile, the following refrain is oft encountered ..
'O you'll teck the high road,
and I'll teck the low road .. '
I think ye might be on the wrong tak there, scotty.
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Richard Tarleton
Just remembered Muriel Spark's novel "Girls of Slender Means", set in postwar London. A group of girls live in the May of Teck club, and own one Balenciaga dress between them that they have to be thin enough to wear. It was televised in the mid '70s.
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amateur51
If cunning householders devised plans in advance of a Royal visit to limit the Royal nicking, would these plans be called Teck-tics?
Or even Teck-nick-alities?
And if HRH employed a large wagon in which to store her swag en route, would said wagon be a Pan-Teck-Nick-on?
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Richard Tarleton
All I can remember is that one of the girls was too fat to get into the dress - possibly the one played by Miriam Margolyes. I seem to remember they had to squeeze through a window to qualify.
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I was told that Queen Mary was quite fond of opera at Covent Garden but suffered from a weak bladder (probably exacerbated by the quantity of hock previously consumed). The Royal Box was set back in the auditorium to one side whilst the loos were some distance away towards the stage. Whenever QM attended screens were erected to make discreet her journey to and from the toilet. On these occasions the audience sitting opposite were entertained by the periodical sight of a bunch of feathers bobbing along above the screens.
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When we were children in the Fifties we would occasionally be taken to Dulwich Park, I think connected with a visit to the marvellous nearby Horniman's Museum. My mother, a resident of Sydenham, South London in the Thirties was fond of telling us that Queen Mary used to like being driven round the park to see the rhododendrons. Apart from having something to do with a very large boat, I was not sure who exactly she was.
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As the Isle of Wight antiques dealer kept recounting his snuff boxes, his assistant enquired why he was so suspicious of his last customer. That most grand, bejewelled lady who had seemed so interested in the stock, especially how she she had lovingly caressed the jade with her gloved hand.
'If she calls again mauling my jade, Maureen, never take your eyes off her. Yerrss, she's much too teck-tile for my liking!'
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