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  • Richard Hughes

Diana. 22 Years on.

Updated: Feb 1

The 31st of August, 1997. It was a sunny Sunday morning, glorious in fact, the summer not yet over. I had stumbled down to breakfast at my parents' where I had been spending the weekend and had just put the kettle on.

‘They’ve killed her,’ said my Mum.

What? What was she talking about? Images of Princess Diana on the old black and white TV we had in the kitchen. Reports of a car crash in Paris. Three dead; the paparazzi implicated. Like a pack of wolves now sheepish. No seat belts, no hope of surviving the crumpled wreckage of that one.

What followed, we are all familiar with: The funeral, the boys behind the cortege, the ocean of flowers at Kensington Palace. The outpouring of grief - but for who? Someone we only knew through newspapers and magazines? Or perhaps ourselves? Something changed that day. As a nation, we began to talk about our feelings

For many years after that fateful day, Diana's presence was everywhere; her image not far from front cover of the tabloids. I remember a friend saying that their 5-year-old daughter had been in tears because ‘the beautiful princess had just died’; she was talking about Diana who had been dead for more than a decade. And then she was gone, her playful smile replaced by endless Z-list celebrity social media updates; her legacy hazy, disputed and relegated to that of 'fashion icon'. I still find it fascinating that some young adults have no idea who Diana was - born after she died, she means nothing to them.

Diana was an archetypal character. From Greek myths to German fairytales, there has always been a young girl who beats the odds to become a princess. But as with all fairytales, the real story starts with happily ever after. Diana foresaw this when she was interviewed by Martin Bashir in 1995:

‘I think every strong woman in history has had to walk down a similar path, and I think it's that strength that causes the confusion and the fear. Why is she strong? Where does she get it from? Where is she taking it? Where is she going to use it?’


Diana had her detractors but I was never one of them. Who did she represent for me? The older sibling I never had perhaps? Growing up in the 70s things could be a bit grim to say the least. Power cuts, garbage piling up in the streets, dreary politicians - always outraged men - and the smell of Rothmans cigarettes, halitosis and Old Spice and then suddenly there was Diana, that blonde sweep of hair, the blue eye shadow which matched her engagement outfit. I was 10 years old. I was smitten! Of course, there was Farrah Fawcett and Agnetha from ABBA, but Diana was different, she seemed approachable and real. But perhaps most of all, she represented a part of me: the innocent child who sees everything from beneath the fringe - watching, learning, taking it all in - the outsider. On an unconscious level this spoke to me as a child. In Diana I saw a kindred spirit.

She was paradoxical: vulnerable and yet powerful. This was a woman who found her strength through her wounds. She held people dying of AIDS at a time when there was talk of putting gay men in isolation camps. She understood abandonment, loneliness and psychological exile. As she said:

“there's no better way to dismantle a personality than to isolate it.”

At her funeral, her brother Charles, in his eulogy, rebuked both the royal family and the press for their treatment of his sister:

'It is a point to remember that of all the ironies about Diana, perhaps the greatest was this – a girl given the name of the ancient goddess of hunting was, in the end, the most hunted person of the modern age.'

The Roman Goddess Diana was known as the virgin goddess of childbirth and women. Oak groves and deer were especially sacred to her. Princess Diana was buried on an island in the middle of an ornamental lake at her family home Althorp. A path with thirty-six oak trees, marking each year of her life lead to the island. Four black swans swim in the lake. Black swans symbolise an event that has come as a surprise, that has a major effect, and is often inappropriately rationalized after the fact with the benefit of hindsight.

Finally, I leave you with this quote from Diana back in 1993 - yes, 1993! - when she was campaigning for womens' mental health:

'Isn't it normal not to be able to cope all the time? Isn't it normal for women as well as men to feel frustrated with life? Isn't it normal to feel angry and want to change the situation that is hurting?'

Amen to that.