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What if the prince charming was a Saudi?

This is the translation done by me of an article I initially wrote in French for a French audience. As I have realized that some Saudis were using Google translate to read it, I thought I should translate it at least in English.
The French version which you can find here, included a picture of Prince Badr.
Please don't judge me for this article's content, I am only trying to help :) 

It’s really too bad.
It’s really too bad that not one of my girlfriends digs the Saudi royal family. I dream of a glass of rosé and of this conversation, you know, this conversation typical of modern women, this conversation of women who dare.
If one of my friends knew the Saudi royal family as much as I know them, we could have this conversation, we could debate those crucial topics: which ones of the princes would we do, which one we would marry.
We would talk a little dirty because it’s more fun that way. Also because it’s our French way to hide our true feelings. Thank God, nobody would pay attention. We would just be girls talking about boys at the terrasse of a café, dreaming of a night or of a life with a tall dark stranger who happens to be a prince in his country. This would require a conversation, in case we got to meet them all at once, in case all of the sudden, we had all those options to chose from.
Yes, this truly would require a conversation. There are several good options, we would have to discuss, look at the ones, look at the others, determine who seems like the best potential in bed. Prince Badr, the minister of Culture, mm... smoking hot. But the Crown Prince, good lord, the Crown Prince...
Because we are good girls, we would give brownie points to the ones who didn’t make it to the top of the list. “Honestly, Abdulaziz bin Turki, not my style, but he looks really nice. - Really nice, what are you talking about ? He’s not just really nice, he’s hot. How tall do you think he stands? - As far as I am concerned, it’s Turki bin Mohamed. The eyes this man has... - I think Khaled bin Alwaleed is really the coolest. Did you see he’s wearing Converse shoes with his thawb? Who does that, it’s so cool. - And Abdulaziz bin Saud, he’s a naughty one. Just look at him, it’s obvious.”
This could go on for hours. We would consider them all. I’d get emotional when mentioning the grand-uncle, Saud bin Faisal. Sexiest man on earth, dead or alive. A look at the old pictures is enough to imagine how many hearts this man had racing... But one of my girlfriends, with a wink, would remind me that in certain circumstances, living ones are definitely a plus. This would go on for hours. We would giggle without a rest, it’d be fantastic.
Except unfortunately, none of my girlfriends knows the Saudi royal family as much as I do. None of my girlfriends knows prince Badr. None of my girlfriends has noticed what a mine of handsomeness the Saud family was. I could have this conversation with some people I am starting to be familiar with, experts, people who are buzzing around the Quai d’Orsay, but quite frankly, it would certainly be a lot less fun.
I dream of this conversation but instead, when I go home, when people understand that I am passionate about Saudi Arabia, they give me those appalled looks, they start using big words like human rights, they bring up Khashoggi, and Yemen. They’ll corner me with their half-baked truth, they’ll slip into outrage, they’ll say “this is shameful”. We French have this particular talent for outrage.
And then, in the end, when I’ll try to put the conversation back on track, when I’ll introduce a different point of view and facts unknown to them, they’ll call me brainwashed. Because, obviously, a French woman defending Saudi Arabia is necessarily a weak brainwashed mind, what else could she possibly be?
Last year, a lunch at a friend’s house turned into a drama. I saw this woman’s frustration, I felt there had been this moment when she had been tempted to slap me. Two years ago, someone I have known for 15 years accused me of being paid to be what they now call a “digital influencer”. “Just confess!” he told me. When I denied being paid, he got so frustrated he removed me from his Facebook friends. Three years ago, a friend bluntly told me that since I kept denying Saudis were the incarnation of evil, there was no point in remaining friends.
Some days, I wish Saudis would fix their reputation, let alone because of the unfortunate consequences this has on my own life.
God knows this is not me, but sometimes, at those diners, I am tempted to become sarcastic. “I am spending my life trying to understand contemporary Saudi Arabia, but you must be right, I must be wrong. Please go ahead and tell me what you read in that freebie newspaper, sure I’m interested. Or else, of course, please tell me about what Saudi Arabia did in the 80s. You don’t mind if I help myself another glass of wine while you’re talking?”
I could laugh about this, but I know this is no solution. I cannot believe how hard it is to get in touch with someone about this.
As a marketing and communication professional, if my opinion was of any interest to the Saudis, I would tell them that to change their image, they should look into this. The princes, the glamour.
I am not going to lie, there would be some work involved to turn them into icons. Make sure they are dressed perfectly, make sure they go on vacation where they need to go. Make sure they are seen, happy and relaxed. Make sure that on the Saudi side, this doesn’t create more problems than it solves, you want to avoid them being reproached to spend too much time abroad. Make sure that people understand that chatting up actresses at the Mostra in Venice, that’s actually part of the job (that said, I am quite sure it would help the kingdom’s business if one of the princes was fortunate enough to please, say, Jessica Chastain. God only knows what Grace Kelly has done for the image of Monaco.)
It might be only my opinion, but I’d say Saudi Arabia is sitting on a gold mine there. A mine of handsome, intelligent, smiling, polite thirty-somethings. Perfect son-in-law profiles. True gold. If my professional opinion was of any interest to the Saudis, I’d remin them that if you don’t like the conversation people have about you, change the conversation. If my professional opinion was of any interested to the Saudis, I’d tell them that we need to convince people to consider this simple proposition: maybe the prince charming is a Saudi. (And you know, if need be, really, err, whatever I can do to help :)
Make Saudi Arabia glamorous again.
But can you imagine me going to explain this to the Saudis? Can you imagine me explaining to those men what western women really talk about when they sit at the terrasse of a café, and why this should be important for them?...
It’s not always easy being a girl, you know... It’s probably not always easy being a Saudi prince either.

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