The following is a repost of the image that appeared on Periodically Anachronistic way back in the oughts, 2009 to be specific. I have no idea what Google is doing, but the first few works of satire still have their posts, but the pictures have disappeared from view. So we are reposting.
Though it had a limited audience, Empress Monthly was a favorite with its readers because it understood what they were up against.
One would think that its subscribers, who had all the comforts afforded royalty, would have a full dance card in life's little fete. Truth be told, aside from producing a male heir, the only other duties were dressing well, and appearing at the ribbon-cutting ceremonies whenever a new bakery or meat rendering company opened its doors. Wait, I take that back; as Empress, you changed your clothes a great deal - like six or seven times a day. And with all that dressing and undressing, there was no time left for being able to take a mad lark every now and then and go junking like the commoners do - but they, of course, called it "shopping."
For the readers of Empress, life was made up of little trade-offs; and there is that constant reminder that with power comes great responsibility. A palace here, a castle there, and all of those furs, the gold and ah yes, the jewels. But at what price? Well, you can't have everything in life; if one can not roll in the hay with the farmer's son because it would be slumming, then one must be content with starting a multi-national conflict over the batting of your eyes at some other Queen's prince royale or having the head of the Church of State drawn and quartered for disapproving of your extreme wealth, and good fortune, no?
Indeed, it is lonely at the top.
