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They’re changing guard at Buckingham Palace -
Christopher Robin went down with Alice.
Alice is marrying one of the guard.
“A soldier’s life is terrible hard,”
Says Alice.
From “Buckingham Palace,” A.A. Milne
70 glorious years! And it makes you want to party like an under-seven. The joy and whimsy of the Jubilee festivities have captured the childlike imagination of all ages. My three-and-a-half-year-old’s enthusiasm has been infectious. I have caught myself humming along to the quintains of the above A.A. Milne poem, arranging red and white garden peonies in a blue earthenware jug. It’s a clever poem, and a far grander cry from 100 Acre Wood, where we usually find Mr. Robin. It depicts Alice and Christopher’s trip to see the changing of the guard, which is where I took my son last Sunday (something which we had done before, but not with the 200 silk flags majestically lining the Mall, nor in glorious sunshine). The Jubilee spirit has even become an effective parenting tool: “Left, right, left, right, at ease!” Mimicking the guards helps happily maneuver the daily dawdles before our drill: tea, bath, and bed.
Granted, the pomp and circumstance is not for everyone. (My socialist mother, who until now had never placed me as a “biscuit-tin royalist,” as she put it, did provide some excellent points of how potentially the money could have been better spent.) But watching it through the eyes of my child, I see how the pageantry has a place in our home and the national consciousness. My son called it “the Queen’s birthday party” and his excitement mounted with the inescapable crowns, corgis and colorful chaos that has descended on the capitol. Living next to a royal barracks, the sound (and smell) of some of the guards prepping for yesterday’s Trooping the Colour added to the neighborhood excitement in the past weeks. And with impeccable timing, HRH’s fete has coincided with the schoolchildren’s half-term holiday, on top of the Bank Holiday in her honor. So, we have stopped by London Zoo for the “Zoobilee,” and discovered that Her Majesty had opened the Lion enclosure in 1976, and had returned 40 years later—déjà zoo!—to welcome the Asiatic Land of the Lions space, which has been pivotal in the breeding of that endangered species, with less than 500 in the wild. On the ground level, my son and I also unintentionally stumbled upon the unveiling of the “Bugingham Palace” in Berkeley Square. After the ribbon was cut, we felt thus inspired, and made our own “bug hotel,” which is more boutique, actually maybe more YMCA, and now nestled underneath our blackberry bush. Other charming events about town have included a bunting workshop, at the nostalgic yet modern children’s shop Caramel in Notting Hill (and held simultaneously in their Shibuya, Tokyo store), using their archive fabric and Liberty tana lawn offcuts. Founder Eva Karayiannis has also launched a British Collection, crafted with small scale suppliers to create cozy Aran knits, kilts, Gansey sweaters and duffel coats, made to pass down to other children and generations.
The highlight for my son though, undoubtedly, has been the nursery school street party, where they had all sweetly been invited by HRH Queen Elizabeth II “herself” on one condition: Her “subjects” created their own crowns to wear. Giddily, school uniforms were cast out; party and play clothes encouraged. Long tables were laid, and the mismatched tabletop a refreshing reprieve from stuffy tabletop trends of late. Of course, there was also a nursery menu to delight; fruity scones, lemon syllabub, strawberries, cucumber finger sandwiches. And a hail of scones! “Badger Class” didn’t want the revels to end, so we all continued the party at the local play park, their crumpled Union Jacks proudly crowning sandcastles, until the exhausted Badgers returned to their sets for nap.
As the street parties continue from village greens to city centers, I notice one of my favorite interior stores Summerhill Bishop have launched spriggy floral paper tablecloths and napkins. Carefully composed to look and feel like their Italian linen cloths, they can be joined together for larger tables, or cutdown for smaller. Genius, for jubilee and summer entertaining.
Word is HRH is pacing herself, but it’s worth remembering the Queen was a very young monarch, and as she celebrates with her grandchildren and great grandchildren (shoutout to Prince Louis covering his ears—the public loves an errant child balcony moment!), she too will be enjoying the playful element of the celebrations. “She became Queen at the age of 25, and is still Queen 70 years later. I think people across the country recognize it as a unique moment in history,” says Sir Nicholas Coleridge, chair of the V&A Museum and mastermind of Sunday’s celebratory pageant. “The key thing about the Platinum Jubilee is that there has never been one before and unlikely ever to be another. The Queen is the longest serving monarch in the whole of British history, from William the Conqueror onwards.”
The childlike element is palpable; tea towels designed by children are on display in St. Paul’s Cathedral where today’s service took place. Earlier this week, I investigated the glorious Jubilee windows across London for Vogue online, a standout being rug-maker Luke Irwin’s collage of his 70 favorite cultural characters from the 70 year reign. It tellingly included an adorable roll call of Paddington Bear; Danger Mouse (James Bond junior in the eyes of British children), Roald Dahl’s BFG, Mr. Ben, Zebedee of The Magic Roundabout and the cast of Rainbow (a classic television program that ran from 1972 to 1992). Outside of London, in coastal Hastings, from a former fishermen’s hut that overlooks the English Channel (and was once immortalized by Beatrix Potter), RCA-trained illustrator Claire Fletcher has created some of the most endearing Jubilee memorabilia—rosettes, pocket mirrors and a picnic print to charm all ages, and available online from Made in Hastings, the store she created with four other local creatives.
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I have always been proud to be a bird of Britain—my career highlights have included interviewing two of the ultimate “BOBs,” Dame Joan Collins and Kate Moss—and the Jubilee also gave me the subliminal push to purchase the Stefan Cooke Union Jack jumper I have coveted since it hit the runway last fall. Yes, British menswear is on high, with S.S. Daley scooping the LVMH prize yesterday, and Craig Green and Grace Wales Bonner being included in the Queen’s Birthday Platinum Jubilee Honours list. It’s a great Brit fashion moment. A few people have commended my “novelty jumper,” as if the Jubilee was sparking a holiday jumper frenzy, but for me it resonated with a deeper nostalgic moment (and I know that it’s a cult piece that I will enjoy for years to come). Long before my Vogue days and nights, and long before my student days at Central Saint Martins, overseen by another brilliant “BOB,” Professor Louise Wilson OBE, I remember sitting in my teen bedroom on the Welsh borders, listening to Blur vs. Oasis, pouring over ID, The Face, Sleazenation, and dreaming of fashion with a capital F and moving to London. It was Kate Moss opening London Fashion Week in a Clements Ribeiro cashmere Union Jack sweater, pencil skirt and Manolo Mary-Janes (worn on the runway by her mate Naomi, who will join Kate on the ’90s float at Sunday’s parade). Patsy Kensit beguilingly sprawled with Liam Gallagher on the cover of Vanity Fair. And of course, the exciting labels of that moment that flew the flag literally: Fake London, Russell Sage, and of course, the great Lee McQueen.
Oh dear, I have digressed from childhood nostalgia to teen dreams. But the poem that I started with actually concludes with Christopher Robin’s nanny, Alice, bringing the youth back to reality with a firm “time for tea.” Sunday night, post-parade and the night before school, we’ll be back to the everyday routine but warm with the memories of the long weekend. It’s been a proud paean to the land, people, and frankly, fun. The children and young-at-heart have been seen and heard.