Okay, I’ll admit it: I’m hooked on Downton Abbey.
Now that the wait is over and Season Two is finally here, I’m one excited gal. This show has everything I like in a costume drama. Â Gorgeous country estate? Â Check. Â Aristocratic English family with tangled love lives? Â Check. Â Beautiful dresses? Â Check. Â Maggie Smith? Check.
Even Scott, who normally goes all glassy-eyed any time I put on a series featuring women in corsets, is getting into it. Â For a guy whose tastes run more towards shows where madmen threaten to unleash computer viruses upon the world, this is no small thing. Â Â It is really fun to have a partner for my Sunday night viewing.
And I’ve realized something, too: there is a little part of me that wants to live in this show. Â I want to be Lady Grantham, or her daughters, and to have nothing more to do than swan around in lovely dresses and have people do my hair for me. Â I want to breakfast with a butler in the background and be able to go take long walks on green lawns with dogs at my heels. Â A life of leisure sounds pretty darn nice for a mom whose days are full of anything but.
I know, I know; it’s easy to romanticize the past. Â And when I really think about it, then no, I don’t want to switch places with Mary Crawley. Â I would not want to live in a world where women could not vote and could not inherit property and where one night in the company of the wrong man could ruin your life forever. That would stink. Â And I sure as heck wouldn’t want to be the scullery Â maid who labors below stairs nearly all day, like a mole, barely seeing the sunlight. Â I like how the show addresses all of these issues, pointing out the rigid constraints on women of the time.
But I still *do* love the thought of having people wait on me, which never happens in Â real life. Â And the idea of being able to sit at a vanity table and spend hours getting all dolled up sounds awfully good to a mom who never even has time to put on eye makeup before dashing out to work. Â Perhaps my reaction is a clue that I should find ways to pamper myself a little more in my real life. Â Maybe I need to bring a little bit of Downton’s grace and elegance to my own chaotic, messy existence.
Until I can figure out a way to do that, though, I’ll be living vicariously through the Granthams. Â Sunday night will find me with a mug of hot tea in hand, my husband beside me on the couch, and the household chaos a million miles away.