What is the point of a lady-in-waiting?
Imagine having a human Swiss Army knife whose job description includes everything from fluffing your ruffles to diplomatically side-eyeing your third cousin twice-removed. That’s a lady-in-waiting—a multitasking maestro who’d make even a modern-day personal assistant blush. Need someone to fetch your ceremonial muffin, whisper which duke smells like old cheese, or literally hold your crown while you nap? Congratulations, you’ve just unlocked the VIP package of medieval companionship.
Job Requirements: Must Enjoy Drama (But Not Cause It)
Beyond the glamour of palace life, a lady-in-waiting was part confidante, part crisis manager. Her résumé likely included:
- Professional Gossip Interpreter: “No, Your Majesty, Lord Fancyhat definitely meant your new tapestry looks ‘bold,’ not ‘hideous.’”
- Emergency Hairpin Supplier: Because royal updos wait for no one.
- Designated Scapegoat: “Who ate the last fig tart? Not the queen—blame her.”
This role was less about waiting and more about strategically avoiding chaos. Think of it as a mix of therapist, event planner, and keeper of secrets that could topple kingdoms. Plus, you got front-row seats to history—assuming you didn’t accidentally trip into a moat during a “leisurely” stroll.
Social Climbing, But Make It Regal
Let’s be real: being a lady-in-waiting was the 15th-century version of networking. Rub shoulders with royalty, secure a advantageous marriage, and maybe snag a castle upgrade—all while pretending you totally love organizing the queen’s 200th pair of gloves. It was less “waiting” and more “career optimization with extra curtsying.” And if you did mess up? Well, let’s just hope your monarch had a sense of humor (and a short memory).
Do ladies-in-waiting get paid?
The Royal “Paycheck”: More Prestige Than Pocket Change
If you’re imagining ladies-in-waiting clocking in with a timesheet and demanding overtime for extra curtsies, think again. Historically, these roles were less about salary negotiations and more about “payment” in titles, room upgrades (see: castle real estate), and the occasional exclusive access to royal gossip. Compensation? More like “congrats, you get to live near the moat!”
But Seriously, Did They Get Coin?
Technically, no—unless you count dowries, land grants, or surviving a monarch’s mood swings as currency. Ladies-in-waiting were often nobility themselves, so their “salary” was baked into their social status. Think of it as an unpaid internship with better outfits and a higher chance of being painted into a portrait. Perks included:
- Free housing (drafty chambers included)
- Front-row seats to palace drama
- Lifetime bragging rights (“I once fixed Queen Bess’s ruff!”)
Modern-Day Ladies-in-Waiting: Tea, Tiaras, and Zero Time Clocks
Today’s few remaining ladies-in-waiting (looking at you, British royals) are typically volunteers with a side hustle in aristocracy. They don’t earn a traditional wage, but they *do* gain prestige points, free tea, and the eternal satisfaction of knowing they’ll never have to explain “what they do for work” at parties. Payment? More like “we’ll name a corgi after you.”
So, are they paid? Not unless you count historical clout as legal tender. But hey, at least they didn’t have to worry about medieval HR audits or asking, “Does this chainmail come in my size?”
What is the difference between a handmaid and a lady-in-waiting?
Job Descriptions: Royal Court vs. Dystopian Side Hustle
Let’s break it down like you’re hiring for a ”Medieval LinkedIn” role. A lady-in-waiting is essentially the queen’s VIP hype-woman. Her resume includes:
- Skill: Fluffing gowns without getting strangled by taffeta.
- Experience: Nodding sympathetically while the monarch complains about “peasant problems.”
- Perk: Occasionally getting a castle with a view (of more castles).
A handmaid, on the other hand, sounds like someone who’d show up in a dystopian Yelp review. Duties involve:
- Skill: Surviving awkward tea parties where everyone’s name is “Ofglen.”
- Experience: Mastering the art of existing while being treated like a sentient Tupperware.
- Perk: …Actually, let’s not talk about the perks.
Fashion Choices: Frills vs. Forced Uniformity
The lady-in-waiting likely had a wardrobe rivaling a Renaissance Faire gift shop—think velvet, brocade, and hats that could house a family of owls. Her job was to look *expensive*, not “oppressed chic.” Meanwhile, the handmaid’s outfit is basically a ”modesty onesie” in dystopian red, designed by someone who thought creativity was a sin. One accessorized with jewels; the other with existential dread.
Promotion Opportunities: Spoiler Alert, Neither is Great
A lady-in-waiting could theoretically level up to “chief gossip coordinator” or marry a duke with questionable dental hygiene. Ambition! A handmaid’s career path? Let’s just say it’s less “climbing the ladder” and more “praying the ladder doesn’t collapse.” One dealt with courtly intrigue; the other with commanders who’d probably fail a basic empathy quiz. Choose your fighter—but maybe just choose *neither*.
How many ladies-in-waiting did Queen Elizabeth have?
Queen Elizabeth II’s entourage of ladies-in-waiting wasn’t quite a ”Spice Girls” lineup, but it was close. While the exact number fluctuated over her 70-year reign, she typically had around seven to eight at any given time. Think of them as a royal Swiss Army knife—part confidantes, part organizers, and 100% experts at knowing when to discreetly hand over a mint during a state banquet. They weren’t just “waiting,” mind you. They were multi-tasking monarch-enablers.
The Royal Roster: Not Your Average Squad Goals
Unlike your group chat’s brunch crew, these ladies had titles sharper than the Crown Jewels. Roles included:
- The Mistress of the Robes (fancy speak for “keeper of the tiaras”).
- Women of the Bedchamber (no, they didn’t fluff pillows—they handled correspondence and corgis).
- Extra Ladies of the Bedchamber (the “understudies” for when things got extra extra).
It’s like a medieval job fair met a Buckingham Palace HR manual.
Quality Over Quantity (But Also, Some Quantity)
While seven might sound like enough to start a small village choir, consider the job description: attending 30,000+ engagements, surviving hat-related emergencies, and diplomatically ignoring the fact that the Queen once accidentally left a crossword puzzle in a dignitary’s limo. These women weren’t just “in waiting”—they were in perpetual motion, armed with handbags and institutional knowledge of which diplomats shouldn’t be seated next to the shrimp cocktail.
Fun fact: The Queen’s longest-serving lady-in-waiting, Lady Susan Hussey, clocked in over six decades of service. That’s longer than most refrigerators last—and far more glamorous.
