Even now, months after the event, it's difficult for us to accept the fact that Rachel Zane finally married her Prince Charming. For real, too, and not that pasty boy wonder, Mike Ross.
For reasons that escape anyone, in the little flat I share with Saffy and Amanda, none of us has been able to separate fiction from reality. To us, Meghan Markle, the new Duchess of Sussex and Countess of Dumbarton, will forever and ever be the gorgeous, loyal and feisty paralegal Rachel Zane.
For the longest time, amongst TV junkies, ‘Suits’ was one of those secret society handshakes. You either watched the show religiously, or you had never heard of it. We’d been fans from the beginning, though for different reasons.
I love it for Louis Litt, that foul mouthed, twitching, shouting, hurt, open wound of a man who can make me laugh just by raising his eyebrows while he soaked in his mud bath. I also love it for Harvey Specter, a handsome, smooth-talking, charming, smart and ever well-dressed man who never seems to do any work except walk in and out of offices threatening people. When I die, I want to come back as that dude.
The girls, meanwhile, literally moan every time one of the main women characters come on screen.
“Seriously,” Amanda said once. “I work in a law firm and I have never met a secretary who looks and dresses like Donna. I mean, look at her outfits! And don’t get me started on Jessica! I bet she doesn’t eat a thing. Nobody who eats can have a body like that.”
Next to her, Saffy sighed. “I love the way they walk. They just stride with such confidence and purpose, even if they’re only going to the photocopying room. I want to walk like that. When I walk, I look like I just did a number two in my underwear and I’m trying not to let anything fall out of my undies!”
Amanda pulled a face. “Seriously?”
Saffy shrugged.
So, when news broke that Rachel was marrying Prince Harry, there was a collective sigh. “Another random stranger marrying a prince!” Amanda said. “It’s just so unfair!”
“Ay, what you expect?” Sharyn demanded. “You tink you can meet han-sum single royal prince when you always have lunch at Maxwell Food Court, issit?”
“Or work in the HR department of a crappy law firm,” Saffy added.
Sharyn nodded, her glasses almost slipping off her shiny flat nose. “Hannor!”
The day of the wedding, the girls threw a Royal Wedding party at home. Amanda catered scones and pressed sandwiches, while Saffy put up Rule Britannia banners all over our living room. One of their girlfriends, Maxine, somehow managed to rustle up life-sized cut-up dolls of the bride and groom for the occasion.
“That George Clooney is aging like really expensive fine wine!” observed Saffy as she stuffed an entire scone into her mouth.
“Since when did Harvey Specter wear glasses?” Amanda asked.
“Wait, that’s Harvey? Why’s he so thin?” Saffy said, concern etched in every syllable.
When Rachel finally emerged onto the steps of the church, there was a collective moan.
“Oh my God, that dress!” Saffy sighed. “It’s gorgeous!”
“It’s a Givenchy,” Amanda reported flipping through her Instagram account.
“Wah, so nice, hor?” Sharyn said. “Ay, I wonder how much this wedding cost, ah?”
“Forty-three million,” said Amanda, royal accountant.
A shocked silence descended on the room.
“Rupiah?” Sharyn finally squeaked.
Amanda barked out a laugh. “You-ess dollars!”
“Wah lau, eh!”
Apparently, Sharyn went home and told her husband it was an absolute scandal how these ‘xiao ang mohs’ had no ‘cow sense’ when it comes to budgeting for a wedding. “Wah, you give me forty tree million, I trow a wedding for the whole of Singapore, ah, and still got extra to send them on honeymoon! And fly Satay Class, some more!” she added indignantly.
“Yah, but, dey must also pay for security, right?” her husband Leong said.
Sharyn waved her hands. “Aiyah, you tink Victoria Beckham and Oh-plah don’t have their own security, meh? Dey so rich, confirm got own security, one! What for must pay extra?”
Meanwhile, back in our flat, as we were clearing and cleaning up, Saffy announced that she was officially obsessed with Rachel’s wedding dress. “So chic!”
Amanda who was still flipping through her social media feed whilst picking up cups, paused and looked up. “That dress cost $268,000! You-ess,” she added, just in case it wasn’t already clear.
For days, it’s been all Saffy can talk about. “$268,000!” she told the tea-lady at her office. “Can you imagine?”
“Ay, xiao mei!” Auntie sighed, “I’m very busy, hor! I still go another floor to serve. You want coffee, or not?”
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