Writing this from London, I look around and reflect: In this land of the civilised and cultured, members of the royal family are referred to by mere first names by the public. Kate this, Kate that. William this, William that. I think her dress is terribly meh; how could he possibly consider polo matches the weekend his wife is supposed to give birth - these comments, made out in the open, could go on forever.
Royal families have always been objects of fascination for people from all over the world. Of course, it is partly because of the romanticised life of glitz and glam they may or may not lead, but surely it is also about how they inspire the people that they rule.
The royal family in Britain is so entrenched in everyday life and culture that a sizeable chunk of the British identity would be gone without these figures. The connection and presence they have in the lives of their subjects is fundamental to any successful reign and also extends to citizens of other nations, who are more than familiar with the happenings within the royal household.
As a child, I used to be fascinated by the souvenirs of the Queen that lined the shelves, just as any gift-hunting tourist would be. Today, I am bombarded by all that red, white and blue memorabilia every day as I walk down the streets of London decades later.
Although I am less amused by this commercial clutter today, I really have to admit that some objects are amazingly hilarious. Whether it is an "ice-queen scooper", solar model or tea bags that look like the queen is bathing in a teacup, it really is a riot and definitely gives you something to remember her by. The commodification of royalty in Britain not only creates an intimate sentiment with the people, it is also beneficial towards tourism. But other than picture-perfect portraits and postcards, the sometimes crude humour that is tolerated does say something about how people here don't feel that royalty are beyond the normal sphere of life.
Thailand has a special feeling towards our royalty, and yet we should be able to examine this feeling from different perspectives. After all, we deserve bragging rights for having the longest reigning monarch in the world. You would not be able to imagine my bubbling excitement when I saw a particular child's toy in a concept store today. It was a money-designing kit for children which consisted of paper and stamps of numbers, monetary symbols and figureheads so they could create their own banknote. There were only two figureheads, and the one that really jumped out at me was of a man with dark hair who wore glasses. My first reflex was: how cool it is that the King of Thailand is also on the commercial radar of the world. I was excited that the company that produced this kit took interest in my country's monarchy and chose to produce stamps of my King next to George Washington, rather than more globally iconic images such as QEII in her jewelled crown. I was even more psyched when I realised that the more ambitious kids playing with this will probably Google whose face it is they are stamping around - what an awesome way for more people to learn about Thailand.
That's not to say that we should start copying the Brits in how they treat their royalty or how they place them in their social context. It's hard to compare each nation, because cultural factors play such a large role. Respect has become a given and we are nowhere near the kind of irreverent humour practised by British cartoonists or comedians.
But, well, would it be possible that one day we'll be able to discuss the monarchy in public? We can do this in a civilised way, and then only the mindlessly foul-mouthed would have to worry about their arses waking up in jail. As Nietzsche once said: "I cannot believe in a God who wants to be praised all the time." Only when citizens need not fear will the monarch be truly one with and for the people.
Parisa Pichitmarn is a feature writer for the Life section.