Is there any pageant of state more chock-a-block with symbolism than a royal coronation? Almost every detail, from the crown itself to the “bracelets of sincerity and wisdom” presented to the new monarch, is replete with meaning.
So it really shouldn’t be a surprise that, at Westminster Abbey on Saturday, for the crownings of Charles and Camilla, the clothes of the ceremony’s stars, as well as many of the guests, were equally considered, down to the tiniest detail. Indeed, a scan through the looks was, on one level, like a superfancy fashion Easter egg hunt.
It started with the coronation gown worn by Queen Camilla: a white silk dress by Bruce Oldfield, a British designer who has been a favourite dressmaker not only of the new queen but also of the late Princess Diana (he made her silver-lamé dress for the 1985 premiere of the James Bond film A View to a Kill), making him a sort of diplomatic family bridge.
Camilla’s coronation look was embroidered in silver and gold wildflowers – daisy chains, forget-me-nots and scarlet pimpernels – in reference to the affinity for the British countryside that she and Charles share. The dress also had roses, thistles, daffodils and shamrocks – meant to represent the four parts of the United Kingdom – on the cuffs of each sleeve.
As it happens, those flowers were likewise embroidered on the white crepe Alexander McQueen gown worn by Catherine, the new princess of Wales, and now the queen-in-waiting. Kate also wore McQueen, which is designed by Sarah Burton, the rare woman at the head of a fashion house, for her wedding in 2011, and has worn the designer’s work to many major public occasions since. Along with the dress (worn under her royal robes), she chose to wear not a fancy tiara but a crystal-and-silver floral headpiece, and earrings that had belonged to Princess Diana.
Before Saturday’s actual coronation, it was rumoured that Kate would break with tradition and wear a “floral crown”, in a nod to the king’s wish for a more modern, less ostentatious coronation. She did, although her version, by Jess Collett x Alexander McQueen, was probably not the Glastonbury Festival-like floral crown that most had imagined.
In any case, it matched the crystal-and-silver headband worn by Kate’s daughter, Princess Charlotte. Also matching: Princess Charlotte’s white McQueen cape and dress and its silver trim. Kate has long adopted a strategy of colour-co-ordinating her family’s outfits for their public appearances, in part to telegraph an implicit suggestion of unity in a clan that could use some of that messaging. (It also looks good, and she is a master of visual communication.) Think of it as Pantone politics.
And so it went.
Jill Biden, the US first lady, arrived in a sky-blue suit with matching gloves and a bow in her hair (a sort of notional hat), all by Ralph Lauren, a designer who has built his own empire on Americana as well as a fantasy of olde England, and thus a choice that seemed particularly apropos. (President Joe Biden also wore a Ralph Lauren suit to his swearing-in.) Even more pointedly, Jill Biden arrived with her granddaughter, Finnegan, who was wearing a daffodil-yellow caped Markarian dress, so that when the two women walked in together they looked like the Ukrainian flag.
That’s an impressively tactical approach to first – and social-media – impressions.
It also made sense, as the Bidens were seated next to the Ukrainian first lady, Olena Zelenska, who was wearing a simple light-blue dress and coat. In any case, Finnegan was not the only guest in yellow: Queen Rania of Jordan was also in the hue, wearing a look from the British designer Tamara Ralph, as was Kate’s sister, Pippa Middleton.
Still, they were relatively subtle in their semiology, unlike Katy Perry, who was attending because she would be performing at the coronation concert on Sunday night. For her part, Perry chose to wear a lilac Vivienne Westwood skirt suit, matching elbow-length gloves, and a large lilac hat/flying saucer sprouting a “merry widow” veil – plus a three-strand pearl choker with a Westwood logo crown at its centre.
Westwood, of course, had a somewhat cheeky relationship with the monarchy (remember the notorious no-knickers twirl she did after receiving her OBE?), although by the time she died, in December, she had become her own sort of British treasure. In choosing to honour her memory and wear her brand, Perry was supporting the local fashion industry and the complicated national relationship with the royal family that King Charles has inherited. Hats off to that one. – This article originally appeared in The New York Times.
