If you missed the first episode of The Bachelor Canada, then you missed all the boob talk. Boobs, boobs, boobs, boobs, boobs. Why is it that some women are so fascinated with whether or not another woman's breasts are "real" or "fake"? Is a potato stuffed with cheese no longer a potato? I rest my case.
This family's privacy has survived a princely pater familias reputed to have enjoyed rather frequent romps with ladies who were neither his sovereign nor his wife and a promiscuous princess married to the heir to the throne among other things. After such a history, a little blurry bare breastedness, shot from a great distance, really shouldn't qualify to right-thinking people as either "grotesque" or "totally unjustifiable."