The Regal Rules for Girls (16 page)
Seaside Chic
In her earlier, more casual days, Kate sported a look known as “Fulham-by-the-Sea”—meaning this is what girls who live in SW6 would wear if they were spending the afternoon enjoying a brisk walk along the Devon coast. This look is still widely popular (you guessed it) in Fulham and by the sea—both of which are worth a visit. It consists of:
designer jeans (Trilogy employs a fantastic “jean genie,” which means you don’t have to try on more than three pairs.
www.trilogystores.co.uk
)
a “puffa” (a down vest)
a pashmina (The test of a genuine wool pashmina is to thread it through a wedding ring; if it doesn’t slide through easily, it’s too thick, and therefore of lesser quality.)
Nightclub Chic
If you want to get through the doors of London’s elite clubs (and even better, catch the eye of one of London’s elite bachelors), the royal aim here is youthful, understated elegance,
not
girls gone wild. Remember: nothing too trendy and nothing too trashy. Essential nightclub staples include:
a shift or wrap dress
two-and-a-half-inch patent or suede heels in nude or black
a small clutch
simple, statement jewelry
For months the sky has been a depthless gray. Sometimes it rains but mostly it is just dull. It’s like living inside a Tupperware.
—B
ILL
B
RYSON
I’ve never been the type of person to be affected by the weather. As long as I am warm enough, cool enough, or have an umbrella to protect my hair—the daily forecast has no bearing on my mood. I grew up in Colorado and I went to college in upstate New York—I’ve seen my fair share of blizzards and secretly enjoy them. (I never understood my college roommate who used a special UV sunlamp to stop her from plunging into depression.) So when it came to London weather, I was hardly daunted—I mean really,
how extreme could it
be?
Well, that’s just it. It’s not extreme at all. In fact, it’s extremely tedious in its
lack
of extremes. Bright gray. Bright gray. Bright gray. Light rain. Bright gray. Bright gray. Bright gray. Light rain. Repeat ad nauseam. (In fact, I’ve never understood why the British are so obsessed with talking about the weather, because the weather changes so very little!)
For the first ten years, I was absolutely fine—
I was
in London!
Who cares what color the sky is? But, like Chinese water torture, slowly but surely it starts to wear on you, and slowly but surely it starts to drive you quietly insane.
You don’t realize how
amazing
blue skies are until you are permanently deprived of them (but on the plus side, no sunshine means no sun damage, which means you’ll have great skin when you get older). On the rare occasion that the sun
does
come out, the Brits go
bonkers
: The parks are full of pale, pasty people in shorts and bikinis—all crazed with fear that if they don’t sunbathe
immediately
, they may never feel the sun’s warmth on their skin ever again (even if it’s barely sixty degrees outside).
Which brings me to the small matter of it being approximately fifty-two to sixty-two degrees outside every single day—too cold for a sundress, too warm for chunky knits—forcing you to live in a constant state of lukewarm layers. Frustrating, but it can be done.
Always carry an umbrella. Always.
Always carry sunglasses. It may be gray, but it can still be bright.
Neutral T-shirts and tank tops will become your layering staples (white, black, navy, and beige).
Always have a coordinated second layer (cardigan, blazer, pashmina, or light raincoat).
Learn to embrace knee-high boots and opaque tights (so you can still wear skirts when it’s chilly).
Waterproof all your shoes (especially the suede).
Take vitamin D supplements.
Wear blush so you don’t look like a ghost (but not so much that you look like a clown).
