Go on Carole, wear Primark!
How is it every time another young woman is about to get married to a Royal, commentators swoop on her nearest and dearest like vultures upon carrion - or Katie Price upon Peter Andre?
Lips smacking, claws extended, it's time to let rip into a previously unknown family who have had the temerity to produce a potential bride for the House of Windsor.
The Middletons, in particular, are seen as fair game because, horrors, back in the day they had working class ancestors. Men who went down mines and did an honest day's work. And there we were thinking, in the egalitarian 21st century, that all that Margo Ledbetter stuff was as out of favour as Fergie.
Carole Middleton (perhaps we should now call her Upperton?) comes in for particular censure.
Carole used to be air crew. And, while she may be a multi-millionaire, her fortune comes via an online party products business which does bunting and scratch cards so can't possibly be spoken of in the same breath as Duchy Original Oatcakes.
This week, she's being filleted by Royal watchers because apparently she's decided not to wear the designer outfit she'd originally ordered for the Big Day. She's stowing that one in back of the wardrobe and hoking around for something else.
In the circumstances (an audience in the billions) she could be forgiven a little indecisiveness when it comes to the mother-of-the-bride frock and fascinator.
Tellingly, the snipers aren't actually the Royals themselves. (William's marrying the girl, so no snobbery there.)
It's the commentocracy - mostly public school educated - who like to project themselves as right-on but really can't stand any whiff of working class roots.
It's never going to happen, I know - but, oh for Carole to rock up on the day in something by Primark ...