Just before Valentine’s Day, I tweeted that I had never seen Downton Abbey. To which some smart-alec I know tweeted this to about 200k followers:
As you can imagine, I heard from a “few” devotees who pretty much begged me to tune in for “at least the first season.”
So a few days later, with John by my side, we watched the first episode of the first season. Afterward, I tweeted, “t’was ok“.
My husband wanted to know why we didn’t look like these women while we watched it.
But now, four episodes in, I’m starting to get the hang of it. You just have to step into that time and embrace their world view to truly experience those “WHOA!” moments with more oomph. Then, scenes like the Dowager Countess of Grantham’s first experience with a swivel chair really is hilarious. And Lady Mary’s acceptance of a male suitor to her bedroom makes your palms sweat in fear for her honor.
And so, I was truly immersed in the spirit of the day when we watched Lady Sybil proudly marched into the room in her new outfit and face her family.
“PANTS!“, I stage-whispered to my husband in a mixture of shock and awe. And then giggled uncontrollably at how completely scandalous this had been to me.
Yes, Downton Abbey, you’ve got me hooked. I think my husband would still rather be watching The Walking Dead though.