Jayne Dowle: Media frenzy over Kate’s bump raises echoes of Diana

You might argue that we all need a distraction from bad news, but do we really need this fatuous coverage devoted to the colours the Duchess of Cambridge is wearing and whether they have anything to do with the sex of her baby? Mind you, we should have seen it coming with the heated debate over heels in pregnancy, sparked by her catching her foot in a grate. And as for the lip-readers brought in to try to get to the bottom of what she really said when she accepted a teddy bear as a present – was it “daughter” or “dog”, the nation was divided, apparently – if aliens had been watching, they would have thought us a very strange race indeed.

By bringing the issue to your attention, I realise that I am contributing to the obsession. And of course, the blame is always laid at the door of the media, because it is we who track down those experts to advise on lip-reading, podiatry in pregnant ladies and what necklines best suit a blooming shape.

However, there is a serious point to raising it, because anyone who witnessed what happened to Princess Diana must be asking themselves; have no lessons been learned? It is the sense of a rollercoaster gathering speed which troubles me. All those photographs, all this obsession with the Duchess’s weight and expanding waistline and her charity work, it is as if suddenly, the checks and balances which have kept Royal coverage pretty proportionate since the death of her late mother-in-law have been lifted. You may blame the media for fuelling the fascination, but you cannot deny that there is something just a little bit odd about thrusting the mother of a future heir to the throne in the spotlight like this.

It is especially odd, because for at least a year after her marriage to Prince William, almost every story about the Duchess was concerned with how quiet her life on Anglesey was, her trips to the supermarket, her dogs and those evenings in with her husband watching DVDs. The concern then was that, as the newest member of the Royal Family, she had no discernible role. The consensus, I seem to remember, was that we should all leave her alone to get on with finding one and, when the time was right, she would emerge as her own person.

That time, bizarrely, seems to be her pregnancy. I am not saying that her charity work is not worthwhile, or that pregnant women, whatever their status, should not be seen outdoors. It is just that it all seems a little too try-hard to me, as if something is being desperately proved by the public appearances and the bending down to talk to small children. Those who advise the Duchess on her image would do well to remember that she is not a two-bit celebrity chasing headlines and exposure, she is the mother-to-be of a Royal baby. And they should also bear in mind that although there is still much public support for Kate and William, not everyone finds their lives absolutely riveting. It is probably fair to say that there is not a young couple in the land in such a lucky and privileged position as them.

When it received complaints for showing too many news bulletin updates on her severe early pregnancy sickness, the BBC defended its editorial policy by arguing that the birth of the Royal child will have constitutional significance, not only because he or she will become a king or queen, but because it will also result in a change to the law of succession.

There is a valid point to this argument, but not to the extent that this pregnancy should be turned into some kind of fertility fetish, especially when we consider the psychological stress that Royal motherhood placed the late Princess Diana under. Surely we have moved on from those days when that young woman posed in billowing maternity wear, proof before our eyes that the House of Windsor was guaranteed a future.

Or perhaps this is actually what all this is about, that we have learned lessons since the days of Diana, and what is happening with the mother of her first grandchild is confirmation that we have evolved.

No longer will we accept a 
Royal bride as a victim of circumstances beyond her control. What we want to see from a modern consort is a confident woman who can dress up, turn up, and carry out public engagements on her own from early in her marriage.

This is progress I guess, but does it really mean we have to turn the spotlight on full glare?