An open letter to… Carole Middleton

Don't put your daughter in the palace, Mrs Middleton

Kate Middleton's mother, Carole, has said she is concerned Prince William, who has had a six-year relationship with Kate, might never propose to her daughter

Dear Carole Middleton,

I suspect that someone's got a severe case of the Mrs Bennets. However, I'm sorry to inform you that it isn't actually the case that a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife. Sure, I know that you'll be keen to see your eldest daughter married off to an eligible bachelor. But there's eligible and then there's the future King. How about setting your sights a little lower?

We hear this week that you're concerned that your daughter, the fragrant Kate Middleton, may never receive the coveted royal proposal and thus you won't be able to buy yourself a stonking mother of the bride ensemble to wow them all at Westminster Abbey. Life's tough, I know, but I wonder if, assuming your suspicions are true, your daughter's dodged a particularly lethal royal bullet?

Yes, I know that marriage to Wills has been your plan all along. Ever since it became clear that your daughter had the perfect flippy princess hair, you've set your sights on the future King, encouraged her to apply for St Andrews University and probably forced her in to that see-through dress. However, consider what royal nuptials could really mean for your daughter.

Do you really want your firstborn to have to spend her days practising restrained waving, coy glances and faux-interested nodding when confronted with yet another tribal dance? There will be no more floral-print TopShop dresses, no more roller discos and definitely no more treasure-chest cocktails for the lovely, lovely Kate. Instead, she can look forward to a lifetime of protocol spent by the side of a man who, with each passing day, looks more and more like his father.

I know that she has a particular knack for accessorising, so much so that she spent some time working as an accessories buyer for high-street fashion chain Jigsaw. Do you really want to see her throw away a stellar career in bead-buying in favour of becoming a piece of royal arm candy? She seems to have spent most of her six-year relationship with Wills waiting for him to pop the question (hence the nickname "Waity Katie") and I really think that she's too much of a catch to spend the rest of her years indulging the whims of this middle-of-the-road ex-hearthrob.

How about telling your daughter that there is a line of dashing suitors who'd happily shove a ring on her finger at the first opportunity were she a free agent? That a gal of her calibre should be getting the pedestal treatment rather than hanging around waiting for her long-term boyfriend to emerge from an undefined period of bachelorhood.

And we don't want to mention the D-word, but come on. Marrying Prince Charles wasn't the wisest decision Lady Diana Spencer ever made. Throw into the mix that your daughter might one day be Queen and that makes for a heck of a lot of duty/unwanted publicity/rinse and sets. And "Queen Kate" just doesn't have the right ring to it.

Sure, Kate looks great in tweed, has a perfect set of large white teeth and manages to strike a balance between looking too brash and too frumpy (otherwise known as the Fergie/Princess Anne scale) remarkably well. And yes, those three simple qualities a princess doth make – however, do you really want a life of paparazzi scrums and long lenses for your darling daughter?

And what about you? Just think, you'll never be able to say the word "toilet" again. Or chew gum. You'll have to endure a lifetime of "doors to manual" jokes, and you just know that your "hoorays" will never be quite horsey enough. Then just imagine the family gatherings. No getting a bit tiddly on the sherry at Christmas, no impromptu karaoke, and definitely no drunken bottom-pinching.

Since being married to the balding second-in-line to the throne sounds about as much fun as a round of charades with Charles and Camilla, I must question your motives. Are you perhaps after a bumper order of party paraphernalia for the wedding from your mail-order company Party Pieces? If so, don't hold your breath. I doubt they'll be decking out Westminster Abbey in balloons and bunting any time soon.

Yours, Alice Wyllie