Christmas is not the time for understated chic, so I’m all-in for sequins, glitter, velvet and heels
There is a scene early on in Spencer, Pablo Larraín’s cinematic fable starring Kristen Stewart as the unhappy princess trapped inside a chilly Christmas castle, in which Diana’s wardrobe for the festivities is wheeled on a rack to her suite. There are gowns for dinners, suits for lunches, a hat for church, tweed for outdoors. Sally Hawkins, playing Diana’s dresser, groans and puffs under the weight as if she is dragging a grand piano.
We mere civilians don’t tend to sit by the tree in Chanel skirt suits. We do not risk a diplomatic incident by being insufficiently groomed. (“But madam … your hair isn’t set”, Diana is admonished.) But that doesn’t mean there are no rules. For most of us the rules of Christmas dressing come in the form of tradition or ritual. Or they are phrased in terms of manners, perhaps, or couched in the language of getting into the spirit. If everyone around your table is expected to put the idiotic paper hat that falls out of their cracker on their head – even if its completely the wrong colour for their outfit – that’s a rule, every bit as much as wearing the correct tiara.
This year, I am all-in for festive fashion. For any outdoor urban seasonal activity – gift shopping at a Christmas market, frankly even just a take-out hot chocolate in a red cup – you will find me channelling a strong Pushkin vibe in plush white knitwear and tight-laced boots. No matter that I’m in London not St Petersburg, nor that I haven’t set foot on an ice rink since the 20th century. If there’s anything remotely Christmassy at the cinema, you can find me queueing for popcorn in black velvet and my best Wolford tights, dressed as if for a box at the ballet.
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