Poor old Kate. Doing her level best to be a good girl. A good woman. A good wife. A good mum to a future King. A good Royal. A good Queen-in-training. A good daughter-in-law to the Queen.
And if that wasn't all quite a checklist of perfection, she has to represent British fashion, British values, be totally and never-endingly appropriate. Do as she's told, observe protocol and say only the right things. Smile endlessly and be picture perfect. Always. Cast in stone.
Yes you all shout, but that's the job she applied for! She gets rewarded royally doesn't she. She got the Prince. The swag London palace and the marvellous pile in Norfolk. What's to complain about?? Well nothing she'd admit to publicly I'm sure.
But looking at the pictures coming back from the Royal tour in India, you'd be forgiven for thinking there's a glow that's missing. A sparkle she used to have.
The knives are certainly out from the fashion police both at home in the media, and in Mumbai (ridiculed by Shobhaa Rajadhyaksha - a fabulous 68 year old ex. Model and fashionista critic) who are totally slating her style choices and lack of well, sexiness. She looks mumsy, self-conscious, frowsy, frumpy, uncomfortable, skinny, boring... All those adjectives have been used I'm afraid.
"Thank god she wasn't advised to wear a Sari" Rajadhyaksha spat. No waist... a figure perfect for a crinoline in Gone With The Wind. A Sari needs curves. Ouch.
And what do we see! No Pedicure!! OMG. How ghastly! And the pap-photographs to prove it. Un-painted toenails curled apologetically in nude tights (god, don't you hate those on a hot day?).
So what happened to you, our truly beautiful Kate? Exactly where did you lose your sensuality on this road to controlled perfection?
Is what we see, instead of your previously youthful and glossy glamour, someone doing as you're told and not owning your sexual image, style and identity?
Forget the conservative designer labels and the rigidly observed cultural politeness stitched into every re-worked seam of each Packham and Temperley dress. Ignore your stylist (she's doing a poor job lately). Ignore eternal correctness.
Kate, I implore you, get sexy.
Think about it. Those Bollywood actors and dancers shaking their stuff at the stuffed Royal couple. Abundant and joyful flesh and curves jiggling and moving with expressive and sensual freedom. Bollywood is ALL about sex!
It must have been excruciating to be this trussed up Kate. Up to the chin and with sleeves down to her wrists like some kind of Victorian Jayne Eyre parody. It was a truly mis-judged assessment of what would be stylishly appropriate for the Royal Indian visit.
Haven't Kate or her advisors read about the contemporary rise of Indian style and beauty - the luscious likes of Madhuri Dixit, Shilpa Sheti, Kareena Kapoor?
But with her natural gifts of beauteous raw minerals and the luck that Kate has been dished in life so far, how and more importantly why is she getting it so wrong?
I have a theory. It's just a small one, but in drawing and sketching so many women - of all kinds of beauty and sexiness (or not so much), I've learned that there is just one thing that makes a woman feel and exude gorgeousness. And that's what she feels about herself. Self love.
And not the kind that is manufactured, projected, stuffed into designer frocks or photo-shopped in a selfie. It is the real deal.
It's the feeling you get when you get your clothes off and court your inner Diva and just love what you feel and see. The irresistible seductress who seduces herself. Who dares to be a vixen. To wear the playful and racy lingerie for date nights, even when you're exhausted by your children and you don't actually fancy your husband and find your life unutterably tedious(we've all been there!).
So my guess is that when Kate is quietly being a perfect yummy mum tucked away in Norfolk, she's happiest in jeans and Uggs, an H&M floral summer dress and crocs on a chilly beach with bucket and spade and a Frisbee and some comfy M&S underwear. She can't really give a toss about Jenny Packham or Temperley dresses. They've just been the safe go-to in a fashion-police minefield.
Get to love your inner diva again Kate! We will just love you with bright painted toenails, bare legs, a too-short dress, a bit of décolletage and something totally inappropriately sexy to show yourself off in to the Indian Prime Minister (Lord, he'll love you!). The odd faux-pas but so what! You're young, alive and beautiful, we understand!
When you get back, tuck the babies in with a story and go strut your stuff down the stone halls of your Norfolk mansion in some Jimmy Choos and a rude Myla ensemble. Do a sexy dance in front of the mirror. Be badly behaved. Be wanton. Be luscious. Laugh out loud at your audaciousness and an extra glass of Rioja. Reclaim your Royal Sexiness.
You don't have to let anyone know how bad you've been. But we'll know, we'll see it, you'll exude. Ditch the stylist. Discover your own sexy self love, style and then own it. And William will definitely love it as well!