Arje56utdrhtatler uk august 2015 by bastrericksa

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Tel. 020 7998 6286 louisvuitton.com

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Tel. 020 7998 6286 louisvuitton.com

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www.chanel.com

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CHANEL WorldMags.net

www.chanel.com

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CHANEL

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CAFÉ SOCIETY COLLECTION RING IN WHITE GOLD, ONYX AND DIAMONDS

26 OLD BOND STREET - LONDON W1 SELFRIDGES WONDER ROOM - LONDON W1

HARRODS FINE JEWELLERY & WATCH ROOM - LONDON SW1

FOR ALL ENQUIRIES PLEASE TELEPHONE 020 7499 0005

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Tel. 020 7172 0172

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SECRET GARDEN IV - VERSAILLES THE FILM ON DIOR.COM

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New as a classicism with a modern edge. Normal as the norm of a faultless aesthetic code. New Normal as the quest for a timeless wardrobe.

ARMANI.COM/ATRIBUTE

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E s t a b l i s h e d 1 70 9 Vo l . 3 1 0 N o . 8 t a t l e r. c o m

PAG E

HUGO’S THERE: ‘THE GUINNESS W H O G O T AWAY ’

A L M A M AT T E R S : ‘ C R A Z Y, S E X Y, CO O L’

CONTENTS ‘STIFFY, MEET STINKER’

‘IT’S AN ADDICTION...’

GROTTO FABULOUS!

SOME LIKE IT HOT

PHOTOGRAPHS: CHRIS BUCK, MARC HOM

ONLINE SECURITY: THE RULES

HERE’S LOOKING AT

– take care, y’all. By Annabel Rivkin and Luciana Bellini

FEATURES

70 THE YOUNG

80 THEY WANT

HEIRS’ CLUB One day, all this will be yours... gulp. Here’s how to make it work. By Matthew Bell

74 CR AZY, SEXY, COOL Thrills, frills, Cara and Karl: Alma Jodorowsky’s wonder world. By Luciana Bellini CONTINUED on page 29

40 DON’T YOU WISH

YOUR LOOT The storage secrets of the super-rich. By David Jenkins

YOU’D WORN THAT Stripes-on-stripes shocker

84 THE GUINNESS

Electric red and pinky rings

WHO GOT AWAY Artist/screenwriter/wit: Hugo Guinness is good for you. By Heather Hodson

42–44 TREND ALERTS 46 WHY BE DULL? Choo-choo-choose me! The bag that thinks it’s a train

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COVER: ALMA JODOROWSKY P H OTO G R A P H E D BY M A R C H O M S T Y L E D BY D E E P K A I L E Y Alma Jodorowsky wears organza dress, £29,775; organza bolero, £8,370; white-gold, diamond and onyx earrings, POA, all by Chanel. For stockists, see Address Book. Hair by Eamonn Hughes at Premier Hair and Make-up, using Kérastase: Matérialiste and Elixir Ultime Oil. Make-up by Zoe Taylor at Jed Root, using Lancôme Make-up and Skincare: Sourcils Gel in 05, Ombre Hypnôse Stylo, Shine Lover in 354, Advanced Génifique, Blush Subtil 030. Nails by Michelle Class at Jed Root, using Lancôme Vernis in Love in 010

TAT L E R AU G U S T 2015

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SAVE

TH E D ATE

E s t a b l i s h e d 1 70 9 Vo l . 3 1 0 N o . 8 t a t l e r. c o m

SILK & WOOL COAT, £3,030, BY MIU MIU. CRYSTAL EARRINGS, £507, BY AZZARO. FAUX-NAPPA BROGUES, £595, BY STELLA MCCARTNEY. WOOL SOCKS, £16, BY FALKE. PHOTOGRAPHS: MUIR VIDLER, WILL SANDERS, MARCUS DAWES

Find th

94 LOVING SUMMER

65 ART FOR SALE

Seaside super-chic. By Deep Kailey

A monkey, the moon and (pyro)mania. By Josh Spero

TATLER ABOUT TOWN

51 THE ACTOR

RESTAUR ANTS The Ivy’s all over Chelsea. By Jeremy Wayne

Seriouser and seriouser: Sir Ben Kingsley. By Sophia Money-Coutts

67 GADGETS

52 FLYING WITH THE ART JET-SET Putting the va-va-voom into vernissage. By Josh Spero

68 NOTES TO SELF; &

60 THE SLOANE

HOME

MALE’S SECRET WEAPON In praise of velvet blazers. By Annabel Rivkin

62 WITH FRIENDS

LIKE THESE... How to behave if your mates are minted. By Mary Killen

e ans wers abou to all t priv your more ques inform ate educa tions tion. F ation or a nd to TATLE b ook, g R.CO M/SC o to HOOL SLIVE

94 PAG E

Teeny-weeny widgets. By Emma Freud

THE GAMES MISTRESS Double your fun, say Sophia Money-Coutts and Ailsa Miller; and Emma Kennedy lives it luge

CHANNELLING KING CANUTE: ‘ LO V I N G S U M M E R’

111 JOY RIDE Scotland the rave: stately cool at Cambo. By Matthew Bell

BE AUTY 122 MY CLOSE-UP

64 BOOKS

Tallulah Harlech’s sexy-time Sundays. By Katie Thomas

Summertime and the reading is easy. By Sebastian Shakespeare

124 BEAUTY FLASH Beachy-keen goodies

70 PAG E

LETTING THEIR HEIR DOWN: YO U N G S U C C E S S O R S

ON TATLER.COM X Glorious Goodwood: what to wear, where to stand and what to say! Don’t go racing off without our insiders’ guide. X What’s your Sloane nickname? It might come in handy when you want an upgrade. Head to Tatler.com to find out yours.

in tweed: we bring you some of the best tweed outfits in the history of Bystander. Ever.

TRAVEL 127 PARTY PAR ADISE Montenegro a go-go. By Matthew Bell

134 WHERE TO GO Beach v mountain

EVERYTHING ELSE 135 ADDRESS BOOK 137 BYSTANDER

X Toffs

WA N T U S ? N E E D U S ? S u b s c r i b e t o Ta t l e r a n d w e ’ l l g i v e y o u a p r e s e n t – t u r n t o p a g e 1 2 3WorldMags.net

Back Page WHAT’S IT LIKE TO BE... ...Lottie, Brian Sewell’s whippet/Staffie cross? By Matthew Bell TAT L E R AU G U S T 2015

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PA S D E D E U X B O O D L E S I N C O L L A B O R AT I O N W I T H A N D I N S P I R E D B Y T H E R OYA L B A L L E T B O O D L E S . C O M / PA S D E D E U X

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LUCIANA BELLINI Tatler’s assistant editor meets this month’s covergirl, Alma Jodorowsky (page 74)

What’s your worst habit? Behaving like an only child.

What’s the best chat-up line you’ve ever heard? ‘How much does a polar bear weigh? Enough to break the ice.’

Which super-power would you most like to have? To be able to digest gluten.

What never fails to make you laugh? ‘The Fat Jewish’ on Instagram.

CONTRIBUTORS W h a t ’s o n t h e i r m i n d s t h i s m o n t h ?

MARCUS FIELD

HEATHER HODSON

Marcus visits the UK’s smartest grottoes (page 104)

Heather meets mischievous maverick Hugo Guinness (page 84)

What’s your worst habit?

Ordering another drink when everyone else is ready to go home.

What’s the best chat-up line you’ve ever heard? ‘Hey,

Jammie Dodgers.

What’s the phrase or word you overuse the most? ‘I can’t decide.’ What would be your deathrow meal? Vietnamese spicy

I lost my phone number – can I have yours?’

salad with crispy tofu.

Bionic hearing. ]

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Which super-power would you most like to have?

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B O O D L E S . C O M /A S H O K A

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76/78 High Street, Royal Tunbridge Wells, Kent TN1 1YB Tel. 01892 534018 | Fax. 01892 510536 Email. info@gcollinsandsons.com | www.gcollinsandsons.com

‘When two halves meet’ Designed by Josh Collins

MUIR VIDLER Muir photographs Britain’s young successors (page 70)

What’s your favourite joke? How many photographers does it take to change a light bulb? Just one more. What’s your signature dance move? The Earthwalk (like the Moonwalk but not as good). What’s your worst habit? Eating too many sausages and then moaning about feeling ill.

If you could get away with one crime, what would it be? Joyriding.

CONTRIBUTORS W h a t ’s o n t h e i r m i n d s t h i s m o n t h ?

NICKY EATON Condé Nast’s director of communications keeps us all on-message

What’s your favourite joke?

The ‘Zoë’ ring

How do you kill a circus troupe? Go straight for the juggler.

What’s the best chat-up line you’ve ever heard? ‘Do you believe in love at first sight or shall I walk by again?’

What’s your go-to fancy-dress costume? Anything with roller skates.

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CHRISTOFFER RUDQUIST Christoffer photographs the world’s swankiest warehouse, Le Freeport (page 80)

What’s your signature dance move? Swedish folk dancing. What would be your death-row meal? Anything prepared by my wife.

What’s the phrase or word you overuse the most? ‘Awesome!’ (

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EDITOR KATE REARDON Acting editor GAVANNDRA HODGE Editor’s assistant and events manager LARA MONRO

Managing editor BEATRIZ CHOI Acting deputy editor EMILIE M CMEEKAN Associate editor GERRI GALLAGHER Editor-at-large ANNABEL RIVKIN Senior editor DAVID JENKINS

ART Art director JESSICA ROSE Deputy art director LEE PEARS Picture editor HANNAH BRENCHLEY Acting picture editor EVE JONES Acting deputy picture editor HARRIET WHITING Designer CAROLYN JONES

FEATURES Features editor SOPHIA MONEYCOUTTS Travel editor FRANCISCA KELLETT Commissioning editor MATTHEW BELL Assistant editor LUCIANA BELLINI Restaurant critic JEREMY WAYNE Books critic SEBASTIAN SHAKESPEARE Art critic JOSH SPERO Gadgets critic EMMA FREUD Fun editor EMMA KENNEDY

COPY Copy chief IAN RAMSEY Deputy copy chief JOHN HANEY Sub-editor KATHARINA HAHN

FASHION Fashion director DEEP KAILEY Style editor SOPHIE GOODWIN Watches and jewellery editor ALICE EDWARDS Executive fashion and retail editor MARIELLA TANDY Bookings editor ELLE KORHALILLER Fashion associate AILSA MILLER Fashion assistants XUXA MILROSE, JESSICA RADCLIFFEBROWN

BEAUTY Health and beauty editor FRANCESCA WHITE Beauty assistant KATIE THOMAS

BYSTANDER Social editor TIBBS JENKINS Photographer HUGO BURNAND

TATLER.COM Senior editor LISA WILLIAMS Acting senior editor ANNABELLE SPRANKLEN Picture editor MICHAEL GRAY Acting online editorial assistant EMMA BEAUMONT

SUPPLEMENTS Art director TARDEO AJODHA Assistant editor, supplements CELIA THURSFIELD Editorial co-ordinator, supplements TEDDY WOLSTENHOLME

CONTRIBUTING EDITORS Chief contributing editors ANNA SCOTT CARTER, NICOLA FORMBY Explorer CIARA PARKES

RUVEN AFANADOR, CLARE BENNETT, DEBONNAIRE VON BISMARCK, MARK BOLLAND, ANNA BROMILOW, ALICE COCKERELL, CRESSIDA CONNOLLY, GILES COREN, FRAN CUTLER, KEITH DOVKANTS, CHARLOTTE EDWARDES, BEN ELLIOT, DEBORAH FELDMAN, ASTRID HARBORD, NICKY HASLAM, DAFYDD JONES, MARY KILLEN, PHILIP TREACY, CLAUDIA WINKLEMAN, TOM WOLFE, TOBY YOUNG Editorial business manager CAMILLA FITZPATRICK Syndication enquiries syndication@condenast.co.uk Director of editorial administration and rights HARRIET WILSON International permissions manager ELEANOR SHARMAN PUBLISHING DIRECTOR PATRICIA STEVENSON Assistant to publishing director OLIVIA BENNETT

Associate publisher CLARE SCHIFANO Projects director EMMA SAMUEL Account director EMMA HEUSER Fashion account director ISOBEL M c MAHON Advertising manager KATHERINE PITCHER Sales executive VICTORIA BARLEY Sales assistant NATASHA CALLIN Promotions manager SOPHIE FAIRCLOUGH Promotions executive SOPHIE WILSON Creative director, promotions GAVIN SHAW Art director, promotions SAMANTHA BROWNSTEIN Copywriter, promotions ANNA TIMONEY Regional sales director KAREN ALLGOOD Regional account director HEATHER MITCHELL Senior sales executive KRYSTINA GARNETT New York SHANNON TOLAR TCHKOTOUA (tel: 001 212 630 4913) US account manager KERYN HOWARTH Milan VALENTINA DONINI (tel: 00 39 02 805 1422) Paris HELENA KAWALEC (tel: 00 33 1 44 11 78 83) Hong Kong MATTHEW FARRAR (tel: 00 852 2581 2991)

CLASSIFIED Classified director SHELAGH CROFTS Classified sales manager VANESSA MULLINDER Classified senior sales executive OLIVIA INGLEBY Classified sales executive JESSICA DYMOND

PROPERTY Group property director FIONA FORSYTH

RESEARCH Marketing director JEAN FAULKNER Deputy marketing and research director GARY READ Associate director, digital marketing SUSIE BROWN Media research manager ELIZABETH LAMB Marketing executive KATIE BOWDEN Senior data manager TIM WESTCOTT

CIRCULATION Circulation director RICHARD KINGERLEE Newstrade circulation manager ELLIOTT SPAULDING Newstrade promotions manager ANNA PETTINGER Subscriptions director PATRICK FOILLERET Subscriptions marketing and promotions manager CLAUDIA LONG Acting subscriptions marketing and promotions manager MICHELLE VELAN Creative design manager ANTHEA DENNING

PRODUCTION Production director SARAH JENSON Production manager JOANNE PACKHAM Commercial production manager XENIA ANTONI Production controller ALICE AHLBERG Production coordinator SAPPHO BARKLA Commercial senior production controller LOUISE LAWSON Acting commercial senior production controller STUART WHITE Commercial junior production coordinator JESSICA BEEBY Commercial and paper production controller MARTIN MACMILLAN Finance director PAM RAYNOR Financial control director PENNY SCOTTBAYFIELD HR director HAZEL M C INTYRE Head of digital WIL HARRIS Condé Nast International director of communications NICKY EATON Senior publicity manager HARRIET ROBERTSON DIRECTORS Jonathan Newhouse, Nicholas Coleridge, Stephen Quinn, Annie Holcroft, Pam Raynor, Jamie Bill, Jean Faulkner, Shelagh Crofts, Albert Read, Patricia Stevenson

Deputy managing director ALBERT READ MANAGING DIRECTOR

NICHOLAS COLERIDGE JONATHAN NEWHOUSE

CHAIRMAN, CONDÉ NAST INTERNATIONAL

Published by Tatler Publishing Company Ltd (a subsidiary of the Condé Nast Publications Ltd) TATLER and BYSTANDER and the Georgian figure with spyglass are registered trademarks belonging to Tatler Publishing Company Limited, Vogue House, Hanover Square, London W1S 1JU. Tel: 020 7499 9080; fax: 020 7493 1962. Printed in the UK

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Fa sh ion

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PHOTOGRAPHS: GETTY IMAGES, REX FEATURES

LEIGH LEZARK IN CHLOE

CAROLINE SIEBER IN CHANEL

ANA GIRARDOT IN CHANEL

DON’T YOU WISH YOU’D WORN THAT?

STRIPES ON STRIPES

The brave thing about this is not so much ‘stripes on stripes’ – although that, in itself, is a statement. Rather, it is the implicit admission that one is wearing ‘an outfit’. There’s no shame in an outfit, but there’s no pretending that it’s artless elegance either. The thing about outfits is, they are easier than freestyle. They’re flat-pack fashion: once you know that your stripes go with your other stripes, then the look and the accompanying impact assemble themselves. No one’s going to notice your bag or your shoes, really; they’ll be too blinded by stripes. Just don’t do anything ‘look at me – all edgy’, like ankle socks with pumps. Or a hat. De trop. And the stripes of which we speak can be vert, hoz or diag. They can be monochrome or colour-filled. Shiny or matte. Flippy or slick. Just remember that it’s stripes squared – two pieces, not just a frock – and you’ll have earned your fashion... sorry. Bye. AR

40 T A T L E R A U G U S T 2 0 1 5

SIENNA MILLER IN ALTUZARRA

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CAMILLA BELLE IN TORY BURCH

LILY ALDRIDGE IN THAKOON

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WorldMags.net COTTON DRESS, POA, BY BOSS WOOL JUMPER, £580, BY SALVATORE FERRAGAMO

PIN-UP

WOOL SKIRT £695, BY ROLAND MOURET

Get your cape, you’ve pulled

MERINO-WOOL & CASHMERE TURTLENECK, £509, BY EMILIA WICKSTEAD

SUEDE &

COTTON DRESS, £480, BY CARVEN

Electric red

It wasn’t the lady in blue. It wasn’t the lady in yellow. It wasn’t the lady in green. It wasn’t the lady in pink. It wasn’t the lady in orange. It wasn’t the lady in turquoise. It wasn’t the lady in grey. It wasn’t the lady in purple. It wasn’t the lady in white (well, it might have been. But not for the purposes of this little riff. So can you please keep shtum on this?). It wasn’t the lady in silver. It wasn’t the lady in black. It wasn’t the lady in brown. It was the lady in red. Red. And there’s a reason for that. AR

42 T A T L E R A U G U S T 2 0 1 5

DRESS, £500; SILK TOP, £325; BROOCHES, £225 EACH, ALL BY EMPORIO ARMANI

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PHOTOGRAPHS: CHRIS CRAYMER/TRUNK ARCHIVE. STILL-LIFES: PSC

SALVATORE FERRAGAMO A/W 15/16

ER HEELS Y PRADA

TE A D E TH E V SA

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SCHOOLS GUIDE 2ND OCTOBER 2015

速

LIVE!

Are you considering private education for your child?

PHOTOGRAPH: GETTY IMAGES

FOR MORE N ATIO INFORM TO AND ISIT BOOK, V OM .C TATLER OLS /SCHO LIVE WorldMags.net

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WorldMags.net ROSE-GOLD & DIAMOND RING, £8,400, BY BOODLES

GOLD RING, £645, BY GUCCI

ROSE-GOLD & DIAMOND RING, £1,175 BY TIFFANY

PINK-GOLD & DIAMOND RING, £7,700, BY DE BEERS

PIN-UP

‘Now, where did I leave my husband?

GOLD, WHITE-GOLD & DIAMOND RING, £4,500, BY INESIENE

GOLD & DIAMOND RING, £5,200, BY LYNN BAN

PINK-GOLD & DIAMOND RING, £8,160, BY REPOSSI, AT DOVER STREET MARKET GOLD & CUBIC-ZIRCONIA RINGS, £275 EACH, BY PANDORA

GOLD & DIAMOND RING, £4,050, BY SUSAN FOSTER, AT MATCHES FASHION.COM ROSE-GOLD & DIAMOND RING, £1,950, BY NOOR FARES

Pinky rings

GOLD & DIAMOND RING, £3,225, BY DINA KAMAL, AT DOVER STREET MARKET

Question: How do we feel about pinky rings? Answer: We are currently gripped. They suit our flighty state of mind. Not too much commitment in a cheeky ‘ole pinky ring is there? Just playful. Giving the paw that patrician air latterly lent by a signet ring but less... off-putting. Yes. But pinky need not mean dinky. They can be bloody great boulders or swirling, architectural whirls or witty little constellations but, whatever their DNA, they bestow an atmosphere of storyteller upon the wearer. A very slightly spivvy confidence. Heaven. AR

44 T A T L E R A U G U S T 2 0 1 5

GOLD, DIAMOND, PINK-TOPAZ & MOONSTONE RING, £2,490, BY SABINE G, AT MATCHES FASHION.COM

GOLD & DIAMOND RING, £2,500, BY SYBARITE

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WHITE-GOLD & DIAMOND RING, £3,995, BY CATHERINE PREVOST

PHOTOGRAPH: HORST P HORST/CONDE NAST ARCHIVE. STILL-LIFES: PSC

GOLD, WHITE-GOLD & DIAMOND RING, £10,000, BY JESSICA MCCORMACK

WorldMags.net If you donâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t know her favourite colour, let her have them all.

London, 43â&#x20AC;&#x201C;44 New Bond Street, T. 020.7493 2299 At the best Addresses in Germany and in London, Paris, Madrid, Vienna, New York and beijing. www.wempe.com Sky blue topaz? Smokey quartz? Purple amethyst? If you have to guess her wish, do so with passion: WorldMags.net the coloured gemstone necklace set in 18 ct rose gold from Wempe.

THE BAG THAT THINKS IT’S A TR AIN

RESIN LOCOMOTIVE BAG; RESIN WAGON BAG, £8,600 EACH, BOTH BY MOYNAT. JERSEY JACKET, £1,270; JERSEY SKIRT, £480, BOTH BY PRADA. EMBOSSED LEATHER SHOES, £425, BY JIMMY CHOO

Photographed by WILL SANDERS

46 T A T L E R A U G U S T 2 0 1 5

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FOR STOCKISTS, SEE ADDRESS BOOK. HAIR & MAKE-UP BY HILA KARMAND, USING BUMBLE AND BUMBLE & STILA. MODEL, TESSA WESTERHOF AT WILHELMINA MODELS. PROPS AND LOCATION BY THEME TRADERS (THEMETRADERS.COM; ENQUIRIES@THEMETRADERS.COM). STYLED BY AILSA MILLER

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I LD

NW EL CO M

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MAD H AT T E R ’ S AFTERNOON T E A PA R T Y THE M O N TA G U

E AT M E , D R I N K M E

T H E M A G I C O F H AT S

CURIOUSER?

TO BOOK Tickets are £38 for adults and £19 for children. ‘Drink Me’ cocktail will cost an additional £7. Tickets are limited, non-refundable and issued on a first-come, first-served basis. Simply call 020 7299 2037 or email montagu.hrlondon@hyatt.com and quote ‘Tatler Mad Hatter’ to reserve your place For more information on this and other events at Hyatt Regency London – The Churchill, please call them directly or visit london.churchill.hyatt.com

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WorldMags.net PINK LADY

TOUT SWEET First you think you love the Savoy. And then it opens Melba, a gourmet-takeaway counter, which sells everything from coffee to sandwiches, but Savoy style. All this before we tell you that its speciality is eclairs. In different colours and different flavours, from £4. Literally, food utopia. fairmount.com/savoy-london

LIGHT FANTASTIC Ageing is a frightful bore – unless you are a cunning creature who owns one of these Tria age-defying lasers, £450. Spend just two minutes every evening zapping away your fine lines and wrinkles, and in six weeks’ time you’ll see results. triabeauty.co.uk

Let’s not beat about the bush here. Diamond necklaces are evidence of a civilised society. But a William & Son diamond necklace that’s ALSO littered with pink sapphires, POA, is enough to turn a sane girl into a savage until it is in her possession. williamandson.com ®

Find the answers to all your private-education questions at our Schools Guide Live! event, featuring top education specialists. Tickets, £225 or £400 for two. tatler.com/schoolslive

BLACK BEAUTY

SICILY SEASON Clutch at your heart. For this Sicily leather clutch from Dolce & Gabbana, POA, is riddled with handy compartments for your cards and make-up. Prepare to fall quite profoundly in love with it. harrods.com

TRIO GRANDE Three is the magic number. Particularly if the three in question represents three rows of three different types of diamond, as in these Maya earrings by Messika, POA. messika.com

This Aromachologie black soap by L’Occitane, £16, is made of olive oil and is as marvellous at cleaning your skin as it is at leaving it super-soft. The Mediterraneans have been using black soap since forever. Take note. uk.loccitane.com

BEACH BELLE Life is better in a kaftan. It means you are somewhere warm, probably by the sea, definitely with a huge drink in your hand. This cotton Le Saint Géran kaftan from One&Only, £122, is an absolute winner. Your holiday starts right here. oneandonlyresorts.com

48 T A T L E R A U G U S T 2 0 1 5

Summery and delicious, Chanel Chance Eau Vive, £79 for 100ml, is obviously more heavenly than heaven, with a hint of grapefruit added for celestial freshness. harrods.com

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WorldMags.net SIP OF SUMMER

Everyone knows that summer is only an existential proposition until you have a glass of Pimm’s. And then the sun roars out from behind the clouds, flowers burst into life and everyone books a holiday. So as you’re soaking up the rays, relish this particular Pimm’s, £15, which has had strawberry and mint added to the ingredients. Deliciousness in the extreme. waitrose.com

PERFECT SERVE Anyone for tennis? As in diamond tennis? As in a Boodles tennis bracelet, POA, with a tennis ball hanging from it? As in a tennis ball that’s made of diamonds (this is Tatler – surely you saw that one coming?). boodles.com

VOLLEY GIRL Ralph Lauren has been Wimbledon’s outfitter for 10 glorious years and that deserves to be celebrated. Preferably with this navy-blue knit, £160. The clothing version of Centre Court tickets. ralphlauren.co.uk

CHARM OFFENSIVE Fendi will be bringing Rome to Harrods with a little pop-up shop from 5 August to help you kit yourself out with all its wonderful creations. Make sure you don’t leave without one of these special-edition Furrods bag charms, £600. Perfectly adorable. harrods.com

Five days of racing, AKA five days of sensational fun: from the Sussex Stakes to Ladies’ Day, the Qatar Goodwood Festival, part of the QIPCO British Champions Series, 28 July–1 August, is not to be missed. goodwood.com

INTO THE WILD It’s time to get lost in the Wilderness again. As in the Wilderness Festival, 6–9 August, obvs, where you can check out Champagne Laurent-Perrier’s amazing Twenties-themed Orangery. Cancel everything to be there. wildernessfestival.com

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LIGHTEN UP This is clever. Insert a candle shot by Jo Loves in a fragrance of your choice into a candle base in another scent, £75, and YAY – you have designed your own scented candle. joloves.com

TAT L ER AU G U ST 2015

WorldMags.net AWARDS

Promoting and inspiring the appreciation and enjoyment of fragrance.

Fragrance Foundation Award Winners 2015 ARMANI CODE ICE - GIORGIO ARMANI

GREEN TOMATO LEAF SCENTED CANDLE JO MALONE LONDON

L'HOMME IDÉAL - GUERLAIN

BLACK OPIUM - Y VES SAINT LAURENT

ROBERTET - LIGHT MY FIRE - KILLIAN HARRODS

DAISY DREAM - MARC JACOBS

SPLENDID WOOD - Y VES SAINT LAURENT JACK - JACK PERFUME

DIOR HOMME EAU FOR MEN PARFUMS CHRISTIAN DIOR

STORMFLOWER - CHERYL JIMMY CHOO MAN - JIMMY CHOO WOOD SAGE & SEA SALT - JO MALONE LONDON

DIOR ROSE ELIXIR PRÉCIEUX PARFUMS CHRISTIAN DIOR

KNOT - BOTTEGA VENETA YOU & I - ONE DIRECTION

WWW.FRAGRANCEFOUNDATION.ORG.UK FragranceFoundationUK

@FragranceFDN_UK

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fragrancefoundation

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A bou t Tow n Photographed by JAY BROOKS

SIR BEN KINGSLEY WEARS WOOL BLAZER, £615, BY PAUL SMITH. SILK & COTTON TROUSERS (PART OF SUIT), £1,295, BY BURBERRY PRORSUM. SHIRT & SHOES, SIR BEN’S OWN. GROOMING BY NICKY TAVILLA AT TERRI MANDUCA, USING NARS. FOR STOCKISTS, SEE ADDRESS BOOK. STYLED BY AILSA MILLER

THE ACTOR Sir Ben Kingsley, one of Britain’s greatest actors, is a two-teabag man. But this is the only triviality he lets slip during our interview. Otherwise, he’s deadly serious, talking about his career in long sentences with theatrical pauses so pronounced that his tea must be cold at the end of them. ‘I’m part of a tribe of storytellers and they’re terribly important to the evolution of us as a species,’ he says. The tribe he was actually born into comes from Salford, where he was raised, the son of a doctor and a former model. He realised that he wanted to ‘entertain’ aged ‘four or five’. He was taken on by the RSC at 23, and it was his Oscar-winning performance as Gandhi in 1982 that really launched his career. Roles as psychopaths, terrorists and Fagin followed. He’s 71 now and pushing on with multiple projects, including one film in which he stars as a Sikh taxi driver with marriage troubles, and another as the voice of Bagheera in Disney’s remake of The Jungle Book. ‘I still think of myself as an apprentice,’ he says in whispery tones. Happily, no one else does. In 2002, he was knighted, although ever since he’s been goaded by mischievous reports that he insists on everyone he meets using his proper title. ‘That was started by a non-English paper and that’s all I can say about that,’ he says. ‘It was a gross distortion.’ So what does Sir Ben do when he’s not learning lines or performing? ‘It’s textures, colours, smells!’ he declares. Which means quietly gardening at home in Chipping Norton or cooking for his ‘darling’ fourth wife, a Brazilian actress called Daniela, 40, to whom he’s been married for eight years. ‘Because I broadcast myself so much as a performer, it’s important for me to get back to the private me,’ he says. So you won’t find him tweeting or Instagramming pictures of his gladioli or fish suppers. ‘I am seen by a lot of people and that’s my contribution. I don’t think my contribution is what I had for breakfast.’ The Walk is released on 2 October. Sophia Money-Coutts

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TAT L E R AU G U S T 2015

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FLYING WITH THE ART JET-SET It’s a non-stop global party whirlwind, populated by a charismatic gang of heirs and aesthetes, punctuated by occasional moments marvelling at masterpieces. Welcome to the art-fair carousel, says Josh Spero

hirty years ago, artists were living in hovels in Shoreditch, where the only people who appreciated their work were the rats and Charles Saatchi. Today, art is the new black. And so social and prestigious is the art world that it’s become a magnet for the young, rich and well-connected as they try to become the next Jay Jopling or Peggy Guggenheim; moneymakers and tastemakers in equal measure. They may not all succeed, but they’re having a hell of a time trying. The art-world calendar has never been more packed with fairs, auctions, biennales and exhibitions – and the parties that go with them are integral (or at least inescapable). As art fairs have grown, so have art parties, and sometimes it’s hard to tell which causes which. It’s chicken and egg – if the egg is one of Jeff Koons’s. With all this comes the cool crowd, attracted to a milieu that combines aesthetics, intellect and extreme socialising as fashion never quite could. (Extreme socialising? Try Art Basel Miami Beach for four delirious days of hedonistic hoopla. And multi-millionpound price tags.) All of this means that the au courant can replace the biannual four-city Fashion Week tour with the art-fair crawl. For the marquee fairs (the Art Basels and Friezes), you’d be in Hong Kong in March; New York in May; Basel itself in June; London in October; and Miami in December, plus São Paulo in April for SP-Arte; Istanbul for Contemporary Istanbul in November; and maybe, if you’ve got the éclat, Art Dubai in March. The major contemporary art auctions at Christie’s, Sotheby’s and Phillips in London are in February, June and October respectively. And every two years the Venice Biennale comes round (it’s on at the moment), having inspired others from Berlin to Gwangju and Sydney. If your diary stretches super-far into the future, you can even plan for the 100-daylong Documenta exhibition that takes place in Germany every five years; the next one’s in 2017.

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Next-gens and spouses of the rich are scaling the painted citadel of art with gusto, good genes and fistfuls of cash. Dasha Zhukova, Roman Abramovich’s partner, is reopening her Garage Museum of Contemporary Art in Moscow in a streamlined space by starchitect Rem Koolhaas, aiming at the sort of patronage heiress Peggy Guggenheim or collector Isabella Stewart Gardner STELLA MCCARTNEY, wielded. Zhukova has already shown NATALIA VODIANOVA & DASHA ZHUKOVA James Brett’s Museum of Everything AT THE WORLD’S at the old Garage and will now be FIRST FABULOUS FUND FAIR, 2015. displaying a whole range of artists, BELOW, SIMON DE from oh-so-dotty elder stateswoman PURY DJS AT THE TATE, 2011 Yayoi Kusama to Rirkrit Tiravanija, who recently caused a sensation at the Venice Biennale by selling bricks at £7 a pop to support Chinese workers’ rights. Lanky Vladimir Restoin Roitfeld, son of former French Vogue editor Carine, has a private dealership and pops up with shows around the world, his shirt often open several enjoyable inches lower than is decent; his artists include the likes of re-emergent street artist Richard Hambleton and Nicolas Pol. And there are more heirs than you can count: Roitfeld’s pal Andy Valmorbida is from an AustralianItalian food-distribution family and as keen on a pop-up exhibition as Vlad himself; the gallerist Alex Dellal’s grandfather was a property magnate; Jamie Wood, owner of Scream Gallery in Fitzrovia, has a Rolling Stone for a pa and a penchant for Dennis Hopper; and exhibitionthrower (‘curator’ seems too straitlaced a word for a man who goes out with Heidi Klum) Vito Schnabel is the son of painter Julian. Schnabel works with impossibly cool figures, including the musician Laurie Anderson and the cult sexual anthropologist Terence Koh. Dellal, meanwhile, has long been known for his nose for the new. There are heiresses too: India Rose James, granddaughter of the late

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DOUGLAS BOOTH & INDIA ROSE JAMES AT SOHO REVUE, 2015

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ABOVE, ALEXANDER GILKES & PRINCESS EUGENIE AT THE NEW YORK ACADEMY OF ART TRIBECA BALL, 2015. LEFT, CARINE ROITFELD WITH HER SON VLADIMIR RESTOIN ROITFELD AT A NICOLAS POL EXHIBITION IN NEW YORK, 2011

PHOTOGRAPHS: WIRE IMAGES, GETTY IMAGES, REX FEATURES, EROTEME

LADY GAGA PERFORMING ON A DAMIEN HIRST PIANO AT THE MUSEUM OF CONTEMPORARY ART GALA, LOS ANGELES, 2009

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porn baron and Soho landlord Paul Raymond, has set up the Soho Revue art gallery with William Pelham, the son of the Earl of Yarborough, for what The Times described as ‘young artists working across media such as film and fashion’. But this life can be exhausting, says art consultant Paola Weiss – a word repeated, wearily, by her business partner Raphaëlle Bischoff. When I first met them, it was on our flight back from Art HK; they were about to head home, repair their chic selves, then catch a flight to Venice for the Biennale and one straight afterwards to Art Basel. ‘Sometimes you spend almost a whole month away from London,’ says Raphaëlle. Eugenio Re Rebaudengo, the keen, gentle founder of online art-sales site Artuner and son of prolific collector Patrizia Sandretto, uses his time away from his Turin base to visit artists’ studios, a good habit that feeds back into those who feature on Artuner. Yana Peel, the tall, commanding figure behind the global art-philanthropy organisation Outset Contemporary Art Fund, calls it the ‘Caravanserai’, this group of art-world nomads who roll from one continent to the next. She should know: with her private-equity-pioneer husband Stephen, she throws an annual party for the nomads during Art Basel Hong Kong. Last year it was in a Hong Kong parking lot, with a performance piece for 1,000 people by hot young artist Ryan McNamara, not to mention the usual DJs, drink and frenzied dancing. Raphaëlle takes another tack: ‘I like to compare it to a play where we just have the same production in different cities.’ Or as Neil Wenman, director of art gallery Hauser & Wirth, cheerily puts it: ‘It’s a bit like going to a wedding where you see all your old friends from school.’ It’s true: if you rock up in Rio or Riyadh for an art event, you can be fairly certain that fellow gallerists, advisers, collectors and assorted hangers-on will be there too, every year. As will Roitfeld, or Andy Valmorbida, or his brother PC, who’s part-owner of LA’s Prism Gallery. Though Riyadh might be a shade decorous for them. The toll these fairs take is punishing, and I have sat next to exhausted young gallerists at art-fair lunches who looked like they wanted nothing more than to string themselves up from one of Fred Sandback’s elastic-cord works. Alexander Gilkes, co-founder of online auction site Paddle8, says he travels 20 days a month (the Paddle8 party in Venice this year aimed to provide a brief restful interlude by being on a boat). Gilkes, open and two steps ahead, is among the art world’s best-connected, most glamorous young figures: an Old Etonian who was one of the youngest executives in LVMH’s history, he gets profiled in ] TAT L E R AU G U S T 2015

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ALEX DELLAL AT AN EXHIBITION IN MONACO, 2010

[The New York Times and currently employs Princess Eugenie. See what I mean about heirs? (And brothers: his younger brother, Charlie, is the man behind Bunga Bunga, Maggie’s, Mr Fogg’s and other regally approved hangouts.) The auction houses are almost embodiments of the hyper-speedy art world: they put a sale up for a fortnight, if that, and in one evening it’s all gone; indeed, a lot can be hammered out in a minute. (The Picasso sold this May for £114m took 11 minutes to go, but Les Femmes d’Alger (Version O) is a big deal indeed.) Katharine Arnold, head of evening auction for the post-war and contemporary department at Christie’s, says this transience is what makes their sales special: ‘[They] will never really be repeated again, and it’s the fact that for those two weeks you can be part of that, bringing together a Kippenberger with a de Staël, and a Warhol with a Rothko.’ It’s both exhilarating and exhausting, she says. You might pity the collectors rushing around the fairs, these Supermarket Sweeps of the art world, on five continents, trying to snap up works before their friends do. Or you might not, since art fairs have developed luxurious VIP programmes with brunches at private collections, a special lounge in the marquee and talks from the hot curator du jour. This is not simply for the collectors’ intellectual edification: they bring their wallets with them. Alongside the parties that art fairs and biennales put on, local collectors like to have people over to gaze at their latest acquisitions. No one, for instance, wants to miss François Pinault’s dinner at the Venice Biennale. Pinault is an example of another truth: the fashion industry has seen how art has been usurping its status as arbiter of what’s cool and

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has sought to buy in. Its major figures are already serious and prolific collectors, but now they’re creating their own museums to show off their treasures and bask in the cachet that goes with it – they’re the Fricks and Mellons of today. Name a fashion label and it’s bound to have an artistic enterprise: the Fondazione Prada, another Koolhaas design, opened in Milan in May; in Paris, the new Fondation Louis Vuitton is housed in a Frank Gehry building; and Venice has not one but two galleries with art owned by Pinault (who owns Gucci et al). Approaches to the bucketful of invitations vary. In London, a collector tends to pick one dinner (hosted by a gallery or a luxury brand piggybacking onto a gallery) and stick with it. In Hong Kong, as Wenman says, they go for champagne at one, a starter at another, a main course at a third... ‘They try to get to five dinners in an evening. To me that’s more of an endurance test.’ (Bet Andy Valmorbida wouldn’t say that.) The quality of dinner can certainly vary, from 24 people in the basement

Art Basel Miami is four days of extreme socialising and hedonistic hoopla of Bocca di Lupo in Soho eating panettone stuffed with ice cream, as Sprüth Magers once laid on, to 300 people sitting stiffly over rubber chicken, as happens all too often these days. Certainly, old hands talk about how these dinners are getting worse: larger, straighter and more commercial – investment vehicles stripped of spontaneity. Fifteen years ago, an art-world habitué says, Simon de Pury would DJ (before everyone expected him to DJ) and 10 years ago, Alex Dellal would open up his house on Hoxton Square. (At one of his openings, I don’t remember the artist but I do remember the absinthe.) Then there are the one-offs. Yana Peel seems to have seen the world in the cause of art: Cuba with the Zabludowiczes, the FinnishBritish couple who are celebrating the 20th anniversary of their collection; North Korea with filmmaker Nick Bonner; and she held

a dinner to launch Outset and raise money for Tate at Lord Foster’s home, where she sat private-equity baron Sir Ronald Cohen next to Grayson Perry dressed as Claire. Next is Iran. Some galas come round every year. The Whitechapel Gallery has moved from the grungy glamour of its Art Plus parties to more sedate dinners honouring icons like Sir Howard Hodgkin and Richard Long. Alexander Gilkes plumps for the celebrity-stuffed celebrations of the Los Angeles County Museum of Art and of the Museum of Contemporary Art, Los Angeles (MOCA) – in 2009, Lady Gaga played a Damien Hirst-designed grand piano at the MOCA 30th-anniversary gala while Bolshoi Ballet dancers revolved around her. But man cannot live on canapés alone, and if this round-the-world haze of fairs and parties seems exhausting and ultimately unfulfilling... well, it can be, even for the Schnabels and Jamie Woods of this world. Collectors burn out, artists rise and fall before their paint has dried. Those in the art world – like civilians outside it – are looking for something permanent, something that can offer aesthetic, emotional, intellectual or financial satisfaction. And they have a variety of ways of doing it. Some say it is their long-term work with artists and collectors that gives them a centre, the excitement of finding a young artist and nurturing his or her career. Others talk of giving their time, money and expertise to charities. Wenman sits on the board of the David Roberts Art Foundation, is on the development committee for the ICA and the South London Gallery, and is a Tate patron, advising it on buying work from Asia with commercial savvy. Yana Peel still supports Outset, which has bought over a hundred works for Tate, and she co-created a design fund for the V&A. For Gilkes, it is the charity auctions he regularly takes with suave aplomb that give him uplift. For Roitfeld and Valmorbida, it was giving two Richard Hambletons worth £610,000 to the amfAR annual Cinema Against AIDS Gala at Cannes. And of course, there is that often overlooked but still joy-making part of the art world: the art. ‘The art itself is the respite,’ says Katharine Arnold, who got to sit alone with Francis Bacon’s triptych of Lucian Freud, which sold for £90m in 2013. Eugenio Re Rebaudengo calls his family’s collection ‘a forever project’ for the enjoyment and edification of both his family and the public, while Yana Peel, who says she has ‘a crush on talent’, looks to art for ‘the questions it raises and the answers it provides that outlive us all’. True as this is, I’m not sure art will ever be able to answer the most profound art-world question of all: when will the waiter be around with the next glass of champagne? (

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PHOTOGRAPHS: GETTY IMAGES, RETNA

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‘Too much for Sunday lunch?’

PHOTOGRAPH: REX FEATURES

I’M AFRAID SO, DEAR

TATLER’S GUIDE TO THE NEW FASHION RULES

ONLY IN THE SEPTEMBER ISSUE – ON SALE 31 JULY WorldMags.net

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WorldMags.net ‘STIFFY, MEET STINKER’

‘O

h, hello there, Spunky.’ Do not be alarmed, dear reader – we are not suggesting you have had an unfortunate incident, or are in fact an exceptionally plucky person. We are merely trying to illustrate the confusion that might be felt on witnessing certain Sloane interactions on the King’s Road. Because ‘Spunky’ – like ‘Dingo’, ‘Fastly’, ‘Minnow’ and ‘Piggers’ – is an acceptable, nay common, nickname. Most Sloanes have nicknames. There’s ‘Bunter’ Somerset and his sister ‘Monster’; there’s ‘Flea’ St George (née Brudenell-Bruce), and ‘Flops’ Cameron; there’s ‘Nick Nock’ Palmer (as he even called himself on his own wedding RSVP card) and – really requiring a sense of humour – ‘Loony’ Cayzer. So you see, PG Wodehouse (himself nicknamed ‘Plum’) was not overegging the pudding with his characters’ names. ‘Stinker’, ‘Oofy’, ‘Pongo’, ‘Little Bingo’, ‘Stiffy’, ‘Catsmeat’, ‘Kipper’ and ‘Tuppy’ – these are entry-level stuff. And school, especially boarding school, is often the source of such names. They can be descriptive: ‘Copperknob’ (Winston Churchill, FYI, at Harrow, as a result of his red hair); or ‘Knobbles’ (as Christine Dickinson is known due to her knees); or based on character traits – one OE, for example, is still affectionately known to his chums, a decade after leaving school, as ‘The Bum’, due to his laziness. All of this is partly to compensate for the lack of individuality in an environment where people are only called by their surnames. Boredom and silliness and long nights in dormitories are also factors. And, if we are going to get sociological about it, there is also the influence of a gang mentality. Nicknames are rife in other male-dominated peer groups, such as the Mafia and, um, Jackass. Nicknames suggest acceptance into the gang – be known as ‘Joey Bananas’ and you’re a made man. And what’s the ultimate gang to be in? Family, of course. So, if a ‘Binky’ wasn’t picked up at school, you can be certain it was grown and watered in family soil. Take Diana Mitford. No one in her family ever bothered to call her Diana – her mother Sydney called her ‘Dana’; her father David referred to her as ‘Dina’;

and... as for her sisters? Nancy preferred to use ‘Bodley’, Pam and Unity coined the name ‘Nardy’, and the youngest, Deborah, the late Dowager Duchess of Devonshire, called her ‘Honks’. Deborah herself was, of course, known as ‘Debo’ to the world in general, but her sisters’ letters to her at Chatsworth were addressed to ‘Nine’, due to her apparent ‘mental age’. And the Mitfords aren’t the only family keen on nicknames. You need only look to Charlie Mortimer’s bestseller Dear Lupin to discover that his sister is known as ‘Lumpy’ (occasionally ‘Plumpling’, sometimes the ‘Lump with the Hump’), whilst his mother was called ‘Nidnod’ (due to her fondness for a tipple). And then there’s the three Hohler sisters: ‘Felix’, ‘Tibs’ and ‘Minka’ (though in reality they’re Ophelia, Emily and Isobel). If you want to get even more

confused about Cressida Bonas’s extended family, you could refer to her half-siblings Jacobi Anstruther-Gough-Calthorpe and Isabella Branson as ‘Cozy’ and ‘Bellie’, while her half-sister Gabriella Wilde is known as ‘Bumpy’ (via her starter nickname, ‘Bumble Bee’). Flea B-B’s name comes from her family too – it was initially ‘Flee Fly Flo Flum’ – though being the youngest of her clan of four, she says, she suffered a whole lot of rather less kind nicknames: ‘ Runt’, ‘Grunter’ and – ‘the worst’ – ‘Bogey’. As for ‘Wiz’ Bowlby... well, her nickname came about because, as her sister Molly explains, she ‘used to wiz around a lot’. But why do nicknames happen and why do they persist? Perhaps it is down to a lack of emotional interaction – a tradition passed on by many a nanny-reared generation. Or perhaps it’s even more obvious than that. There’s no greater social crime than not to be amusing. So the bestowing of nicknames is meant to be funny, even when they are cruel. And the wackier the nickname, the more it shows good, old-fashioned Sloane eccentricity. And so Flea and Wiz are known as Flea and Wiz not just by their families, but by their whole ‘extended family’– the ever-growing gang picked up over gap years, during days as a student up in Edinburgh or on one of many countryhouse weekends. Because nicknames last all your life (longer than reputations and many marriages) and, as in the case of huntress ‘Migs’ (Margaret) Greenall, can even end up as the name on top of your obituary, as hers was in The Telegraph. But although nicknames are never totally shaken, they can become elaborated over time – as ‘Wiz’, ‘Wiz Bang’ and ‘Wizzle Kicks’ points out. There is one exception, though, Wiz declares – the office, where they refer to her by her Christian name: Olivia. So is that where nicknames have the ripcord pulled on them? Work? Well, as one OE (and CEO) points out, ‘You can’t go round calling yourself “Mash” in meetings.’ And you suspect that ‘The Bum’ won’t choose to introduce himself to any future fathers-in-law as that. But, if he’s lucky, his future mother-in-law might give him a new nickname: ‘The Botty’, perhaps. It’ll be her way of saying ‘Welcome to the gang.’ (

ANSWERS: 1D GABRIELLA WILDE = BUMPY 2F MARQUESS OF WORCESTER = BUNTER 3E DIANA MITFORD = TOO MANY NICKNAMES 4C NICHOLAS PALMER = NICK NOCK 5B FLORENCE ST GEORGE = FLEA 6A THE DOWAGER DUCHESS OF DEVONSHIRE = NINE

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PHOTOGRAPHS: ALEX WILSON, REX FEATURES, GREY HUTTON, ALAN DAVIDSON, GETTY IMAGES

The real reason why Sloanes have nicknames. By Amelia ‘Tibbs’ Jenkins

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WHERE’S THE LEAK?

ONLINE SECURITY:

THE RULES

f there’s one thing we could rarely be accused of, here at Tatler Towers, it’s scaremongering. Not quite our style. In fact, we take a dim view of panicking and generally thrashing about. Our readers tend to be gung-ho types: leaping (or at least betting) on highly strung thoroughbreds, tackling even the most unnerving canapés and generally demonstrating their backbone in myriad, colourful ways. But without wishing to be vibe-killers, we have a situation. A security situation. A cyber-security situation. It’s time to stop playing Freda and wrapping ourselves in loo roll and giving each other wedgies just for a minute. Because the simple tips and tricks you will read about over these two pages could very genuinely protect you and your family from all sorts of ugly risks to person and property. Absolutely use Instagram. But not in such a way that it risks a kidnapping. Fiddle around on Facebook. But not in such a way that it risks your family trust’s bank accounts being drained of all funds. Yes, you could have the name of your Latin teacher as your password or you could find a way to properly encrypt your information. Otherwise, it’s a bit like installing the most state-of-the-art burglar alarm in your house and then leaving the front door open. The thing is, you’re being watched, certainly. Monitored, probably. Targeted, possibly. So why be a sitting duck? We all know that they get shot at by unsporting characters. So, on your behalf, we’ve spoken to some of the world’s most experienced and well-respected security experts. And we hereby present you with the absolute be tually. Annabel Rivkin

Most cyber-security breaches come via: • A N E M P LOY E E – unwittingly or deliberately. So, yes, that’s your nanny, your PA or member of staff. • YO U R T E E N AG E R S , with no security measures on their social-media accounts and tweeting from the Cross Keys. Top risk consultancies like Salamanca (see below left) are now running training courses specifically for children – so they don’t get snatched on the way home from the pub. • YO U R S P O U S E Even the former head of MI6, Sir John Sawers, has suffered such a lapse. His wife had snaps of him in Speedos on her public Facebook page, which ‘every journalist found when his job was announced. Not brilliant for your first day as the head of Britain’s most secretive organisation,’ says Salamanca’s Bond Gunning. Lesson? Never post private pictures anywhere.

PHONE TRUTHS

THE NEXT BIG THING

EXTORTION: A

HACKERS ARE DEVELOPING INCREASINGLY

OK, so you’ve installed protection measures on all your big targets. You’re safe, right? WRONG. Hackers are more likely to target outposts of your business, knowing they’ll be more vulnerable. Heyrick Bond Gunning, director of Salamanca Risk Management in Mayfair, recalls a recent case involving a very rich European family. One of its members had a small business based in London, which the hackers targeted, correctly assuming they had no controls in place. They sent a phishing email to an employee, who clicked on it and entered some details, letting the hackers onto their system. They then spent the next two months researching everything that went on in the business, waiting for the perfect time to strike. Through this one localised hack, they were able to access the family’s bank-account details, information about the family trusts and sensitive information they were sharing with their lawyers. They waited until the Easter holidays, when they knew everyone would be away, and then swooped in to wipe out their bank accounts – the family lost almost everything, only realising what had happened in time to freeze a little of their money as it was on its way out. That’s the SIXTH case of this kind Bond Gunning has seen this year. No wonder cyber security is now, globally, a £22bn industry.

SOPHISTICATED

application that • Always use an st . Two of the be ion at encr ypts infor m . ck Lo d mini are Cr yptocat an

WAYS TO

ATTACK YOUR

COMPUTER, FREEZE

YOUR HARD DRIVE AND DEMAND

THOUSANDS OF

POUNDS

TO UNLOCK IT.

Compiled by LUCIANA BELLINI Illustrated by ROSE WorldMags.net BLAKE

. lly vice professiona • Have your de (or e ad gr up u en yo disposed of wh tic). at e th in x bo keep it in a shoe xt oever has it ne If you don’t, wh al on rs pe e to all th will have access e. vic de old data still on your

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WorldMags.net LO C AT I O N , LO C AT I O N • Turn off the location services on your phone, or every photo you take will have your GPS coordinates. If you’re just sharing one photo, fine; however, if you upload several photos from the same day, the coordinates for each photo will effectively map your EXACT locations over that day. Like in Homeland. • So, tempting as it is, never post a photo of where you are at the moment. If you have to post a picture of you sunning yourself in the Bahamas, #blessed, post it the next day, or whenever you have left that location.

A LWAYS …

PA S S WO R D CO N F I D E N T I A L

• Read the terms and conditions when you download a new app – many of them will include things about accessing your contacts, or being able to track you geographically. • Avoid accessing sensitive data via public wi-fi. • Be more vigilant during Christmas, Easter and summer holidays – these are prime times for hackers to strike. • Be careful when downloading smaller, independent apps. They can actually be more dangerous than bigger ones like Facebook and Twitter, because sites like Facebook have started offering rewards to people who identify possible hacking routes. If someone reports a breaching issue to Zuckerberg and co, they can earn up to £13,000.

• It’s very easy for a hacker to find your email address by looking at your Facebook or Twitter account, and if you use the same email for multiple services then it becomes incredibly easy for them to break into those accounts. Take the iCloud naked-picture hack that affected the likes of Jennifer Lawrence and Jessica Brown Findlay. Apple doesn’t limit the number of times you can try an incorrect password, so once the hackers have your email address they can try as many as they like. And while that may seem like it would take a lot of work, it’s actually worryingly easy – statistics show that 85–90 per cent of all passwords fall into the most popular 10,000. That means in most cases a hacker would only need to try these 10,000 (and there are programs to help them do this) in conjunction with your email address and bingo – they’re in. • You shouldn’t even know your own passwords. There are services that will generate super-complicated passwords for you and input them into your accounts. Two of the best are LastPass and 1Password.

TAT L E R R E A D E R S ’ O N L I N E H A B I T S* *

54%

SECURITY TIPS FROM HACKING EXPERT FRANS ROSEN, FOUNDER OF DETECTIFY. **BASED ON A TOTALLY SCIENTIFIC SAMPLE

of TRs use Facebook as their main social-media tool.

THEY HAVE THE STRONGEST PRIVACY SETTINGS ON THEIR FACEBOOK ACCOUNTS, AND THE WEAKEST ON TWITTER.

56%

check their social-media accounts at least twice a day.

18% 62%

say pictures they have uploaded of themselves with celebrities have been their most popular posts.

post something online at least twice a week.

86%

mostly post pictures of people, whether that’s of their children or friends at a party.

sleep with their phone by their bed.

46%

W H AT D O TAT L E R R E A D E R S M O S T CO M M O N LY U S E A S T H E I R PA S S W O R D? Child’s name

Randomly selected

First password they were given at school

Name of country pile

Other Date of birth Boy/girlfriend’s name

Beloved pet’s name

B E S T F O R A L L- R O U N D PROTECTION SALAMANCA RISK M A N AG E M E N T

BEST FOR HASSLE-FREE WEB-SURFING P R I VAC Y B A D G E R

50% 86% never turn their phone off.

33%

have the same password for all their accounts.

have used social media to find out more information about someone they fancy.

BEST FOR D I G I TA L D I S G U I S E S WISEKEY

BEST FOR SMALL BUSINESSES D E T EC T I F Y

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* P h i s h i n g : A t t e m p t i n g t o o b t a i n s e n s i t i ve i n f o r m a t i o n , s u c h a s u s e r n a m e s , p a s s wo r d s o r c r e d i t- c a r d d e t a i l s , by p o s i n g a s a t r u s t e d o n l i n e p r e s e n c e ( l i ke Tw i t t e r, G o o g l e o r yo u r b a n k ) i n e m a i l s . A t a r g e t e d ve r s i o n o f t h i s , d i r e c t e d a t a n i n d i v i d u a l , i s c a l l e d ‘ s p e a r p h i s h i n g ’.

B E S T F O R O N -T H E - G O F -S EC U R E F R E E D O M E

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WorldMags.net THE SLOANE MALE’S SECRET WEAPON Suave, strokeable, subtly stylish. No, we are not talking about Otis Ferry, we are talking about his velvet jacket. By Annabel Rivkin

o. You’re at 5 Hertford Street. Or maybe West Thirty Six. Perhaps it’s a Friday-night dress-down dinner at some stately, or even a kitchen supper in deepest Fulham. Maybe you’re at a party where the dress code is terrifyingly ‘smart casual’. Or it could be that you’re on a date – at the Oak in Notting Hill, for example. Or La Famiglia. Any of the above and, as sure as death and taxes, you will be swimming in a sea of velvet blazers. For a new Sloane uniform has burrowed and firmly embedded itself into the wardrobe of a certain kind of man. Who would be utterly lost without it. The velvet blazer has replaced the actual blazer – now a bit golf club – as the ‘what to wear when you need to look like you’ve made an effort but not too much of an effort’. The Sloane man and boy has suddenly realised that wearing a fleece or a Barbour is going to leave the sort of girls they really want to rub up against cold. Freezing, actually. Sorry. And smoking jackets – although we LOVE them on our fathers – have gone rather oligarch. A sharp navy suit with an open-necked shirt is a bit hedgefunder. So what’s a Sloane to do but look around and work out what makes him feel safe? Because when it comes to clothes, Sloanes need to feel safe. They collectively broke out once and look what happened... the red trouser. Oh, and those heinous dress shirts with bunnies fucking on the back. No one is pretending that velvet is new. It has been around for thousands of years and has always rather fancied itself as the fabric of nobility, a signpost of wealth and power. It landed in England in time to act as a vehicle for medieval pomp and spectacle. Just to get technical for a minute: velvet was ideal for heraldry and showing off because it took and held dye so richly. Still does. It was ideal for shouting about one’s status. Still is. In the Sixties, it got groovy. Keith Richards wore a velvet blazer to one of his trials. One poshly patrician grandfather remembers with bleary-eyed fondness a bottle-green velvet

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jacket with red velvet lapels that he wore during his glory days. At least he thinks he did. But this was pre-rehab. The Seventies saw velvet go spivvy. The rich property developers were getting in on the smoking-jacket scene and spending big at Annabel’s. During the Eighties, women went long on velvet, wearing bloody great frocks with bloody great jewels, and in the Nineties, Tom Ford refined it into slick trousersuits for prowling females. It was at some point during the Noughties that the velvet blazer began to pepper the Sloane universe. It takes a generation for these uniforms to wriggle firmly into the public subconscious and settle there. Here’s what a velvet blazer is not. It’s not a smoking jacket. It does not have a shawl collar. It features no satin, grosgrain or silk. There is no piping. It is almost never worn with a tie, let alone a bow tie. It is never worn with a polo neck unless one wants to look like an off-duty surgeon. If it is paired with a shiny, pointy leather brogue, then we are in flashy

BLAZER GLORY: JACKET REQUIREMENTS Not made in Savile Row – needs to be extra tough Beware bow ties

Pass on the polo neck

Converse says ‘Coke Dad’

No silk, grosgrain or satin Colour me navy or burgundy

art-dealer and Euro territory. If it is worn with brown suede loafers, we are definitely in Sloaneville land. Converse says ‘Coke Dad’, while a Chelsea boot is getting kind of arty. It has crossed over from ironic to mainstream. It truly runs the gamut from edgy to thumping. It is likely to be navy. Nice, safe, un-vulgar navy – ‘no one’s looking at you, dear’ navy. It may also be burgundy. It is rarely green (except in the case of INSEAD student Will Wells, who prides himself on the unusual foresty hue of his) or black. It is also rarely Savile Row. I mean, these boys get through their blazers. They wear them long and hard. They spill drinks on them. They rag in them. They need to be economically replaceable for the self-respectingly frugal Sloane. George Frost (Sir David and Lady Carina’s son, who created Duppy Share rum) got his at Suit Style. Core Collective founder Jason de Savary’s came from Aquascutum. He says it was a present from a girlfriend. Other likely lads tell us that theirs are variously M&S, Paul Smith and ‘second-hand’. They are Sloane men, so they quite rightly don’t say ‘vintage’. The Ferry brothers, Eddie Redmayne and the Duke of Cambridge all possess this incredibly useful item of clothing. Ex-Army officer types who are terrified of being disrespectful and getting it wrong are realising that a velvet blazer means getting it right. It’s an easy way to be at ease that isn’t a damn fleece. And the mothers of style-conscious 16-year-old public-school boys are being asked for a ‘going-out jacket’ for parties. Men think that velvet blazers make them strokeable. And they are right. Plus there is something about the hint of muscle below the soft-y velvet that is... not nothing. And so we say a warm welcome to the velvet blazer. Welcome to the Sloane Fashion Hall of Fame, such as it is. Long may you stick around. One last thing. Listen carefully because this is the law: velvet blazers are never, but never, to be worn with a red trouser. This is not up for discussion. (

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PHOTOGRAPHS: REX FEATURES, GETTY IMAGES, EXPOSURE. STILL-LIFES: JODY TODD

CLOCKWISE FROM TOP LEFT, TARA FERRY; MICK JAGGER & KEITH RICHARDS; THE DUKE OF CAMBRIDGE; OTIS FERRY & EDIE CAMPBELL; EDDIE REDMAYNE

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With friends like these... They are rich, you are poor – but you still want to play together. Mary Killen lays down some rules of engagement

here has been, in recent years, an interesting acceleration of financial inequality. Many of us now have super-rich friends, while we ourselves are, by comparison, super-poor. Fortunately, our rich friends still want us in their homes – we are, after all, civilised beings – and we all still want to play the same games even if we can’t all afford the same toys. They might even want to give us treats and rests, and let us share their sporting estates, private islands, tennis courts, beaches, rivers and boats. But inequality breeds anxiety. We worry that our super-rich friends think they are being sponged off. We worry that we should be helping more with the cooking and the washing up, to be more visibly grateful for sitting

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down three times a day at glittering tables. Meanwhile, they want us to sleep the profound sleep of the satiated in cool linen feather beds. They want to see our ghostly pallor replaced by a healthy café au lait. And, crucially, they actually need us, because their fellow OnePercenters usually can’t spare the time to make up the numbers in house parties. Not only are the other One-Percenters booked up

two years in advance, they also need to exercise presenteeism in their own portfolio of homes around the globe, many of which would otherwise go unvisited. And so there are rules. Rules for us and for them, to keep these special relationships, well, special. Considerate OPs smooth the path for indigent friends. At a week-long 21st-birthday celebration in Goa last year, guests

Don’t

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were delighted to find how affordable the beds, breakfasts and dinners in the three-star hotels were – once they entered their ‘password code’. It made the airfare almost an investment; the hosts, meanwhile, were quietly subsidising the costs. Considerate OPs send cars to the airport for you, sparing you substantial transfer costs. They don’t often pay the airfares, but they thoughtfully give you good advance notice so you can buy tickets cheaply. (Warning: never lobby for a lift in the private jet – the reason the rich have their own planes is primarily for the luxury of not having to wait for flakeheads who have forgotten their passports or are cutting it fine getting to the airport.) Considerate OPs give precise instructions regarding the minimum tip you should leave. They know that coyness over this issue can lead to overtipping. Meanwhile, the experienced ‘have-not’ guest has learned which token gestures of contribution not to make. Never offer to pay for ‘one lunch out’ for the entire house party. What if your OP host suggests the Gstaad Palace? Or worse, you don’t even run it by them, you ask for the bill, you pay – even though you will have to take out a new mortgage – and then your host doesn’t even notice. Beware this gesture. Very often the host’s butler has rung ahead and given credit-card details to the restaurant, so no bill would have been presented in the first place. But how much sponging can we do without completely humiliating ourselves? Frankly, quite a lot, as long as we pay for our own airfares, tips and a wellchosen present. We need not pay for lunch for 20 in the Gstaad Palace, but we can go to the supermarket on cook’s day off, prepare lunch and serve it. We can offer to hire a car at the airport so we can help with ferrying the house party around. But the main way you can make the relationship more equal is by being a good guest. You can start by saying ‘yes, please’ or ‘no, thank you’ quickly. The host ultimately

PHOTOGRAPHS: GETTY IMAGES, SHUTTERSTOCK

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doesn’t mind that much if you can come or not – but do not keep him or her waiting for a decision for more than a week so they can invite someone else who will blend comfortably into their human house-party cocktail. Don’t be boring about your travel-arrangement problems. Your host doesn’t want to know. When you are told which airport to arrive at and at what time, do it. And don’t fail to let your host know if you have decided to hire a car (which can make you feel less imprisoned there) instead of using the thoughtful limo they have sent for you, because little things like limos coming back empty can be really annoying. Ask what clothing will be necessary or appropriate. If it’s black tie or smoking jackets, or shooting kit you haven’t got, go to Oxfam or borrow it. You can’t refuse to take part in after-dinner games, or visits to gothic cathedrals because you don’t like the gothic style. You can’t go to bed early – don’t worry, you’ll have plenty of time for an afternoon nap to ready you to stay up till 3am, dancing to the band your host has hired. And you will have to find the local bigwig neighbours interesting, whether they are or not. The key thing is to go with the flow. When asked, ‘Did you sleep well?’, always say ‘Yes, brilliantly,’ even if sharing with your husband is not something you are used to. Approach the housekeeper privately to enquire if you could have a second pillow or even an overflow ‘snoring room’. On no account go into a long story about how you woke up at 3am and then at 5am. You must provide the wind that fills the sails of a ship called fun. You must help your host to make the other guests happier – with whatever it takes. But you must not suck up. The OPs haven’t got there by being stupid, and they appreciate plain speaking, offset by genuine appreciation. Finally, only go if you actually like your host in the first place. Remember: by luxuriating in the largesse they have bestowed upon you, you will give them something money can’t buy – happiness. (

K E L LY T O L H U R S T

WorldMags.net Illustrated by GERALD SCARFE

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Books

Supermodels, secrets and spooks: scorching summer reads from Sebastian Shakespeare

& Schuster, £12.99) An engaging book on sports that have fallen out of favour owing to cruelty, danger and ridiculousness (boxing on horseback, anyone?). Drawing on sources from Suetonius to Shakespeare, the author captures humanity’s resourcefulness and infinite capacity for frivolous fun. Did you know that London theatre owes its origins to animalbaiting pits? It brings a whole new meaning to that Winter’s Tale stage direction, ‘Exit, pursued by a bear.’

THE WHITE UMBRELLA BY BRIAN SEWELL (Quartet, £9.99)*

Britain’s most acerbic art critic shows his softer side with a heartwarming story. Our hero, ‘a wiry little man of 50’, rescues a wounded donkey in Peshawar, names her Pavlova and decides to bring her home overland to Wimbledon, taking only a small bag and a white umbrella with him. The enchanting tale of their road trip together from Pakistan through Persia and Europe will delight adults and children alike. A DIFFERENT KIND OF WEATHER BY WILLIAM WALDEGRAVE

(Constable, £20) William Waldegrave THE PARROTS BY ALEXANDRA SHULMAN (Fig Tree, £14.99) At

first glance, the Tennison family – calligrapher Katherine, gallery owner Rick and their student son Josh – lead a perfect metropolitan life. But their domestic harmony is disrupted when they are asked to keep an eye on Matteo and Antonella, the unsettlingly glamorous offspring of an Italian fashion dynasty. Matteo proves dangerously alluring to Katherine, while her wayward husband gets his own comeuppance. There are Russians too... A sparkling tale of seduction and suspense.

told his headmaster that he beat the pupils too much and Thatcher that she must quit. Tough stuff from the former Conservative minister for whose policies ‘wet, wet, wet’ was an apt description. As a young Etonian, Waldegrave wanted to be foreign secretary before becoming prime minister and, in retirement, to produce

a definitive translation of Thucydides. He’s provost of Eton now, and this is a wistful evocation of an era when the established classes were born to rule. So where exactly was it that David Cameron went to school? SOMETHING TO HIDE BY DEBORAH MOGGACH (Chatto,

£12.99) Deborah Moggach’s latest

novel is about marital betrayal after a certain age. Sixtysomething Petra falls in love with Jeremy, an old chum visiting from abroad who just happens to be her best friend’s husband. Petra then finds herself relocated to West Africa, where Bev, the friend she’s betrayed, lives with Jeremy. A poignant story of the secrets and deceptions that lie at the heart of every relationship. SHOES FOR ANTHONY BY EMMA KENNEDY (Ebury, £12.99) An

impoverished Welsh mining village gets turned upside down when the Americans arrive to

MODEL WOMAN: EILEEN FORD BY ROBERT LACEY (HarperCollins,

THE STREET OF WONDERFUL POSSIBILITIES BY DEVON COX

(Frances Lincoln, £25) A beautifully illustrated cultural biography of Chelsea’s Tite Street, a fin-de-siècle bohemian enclave and home to Wilde, Sargent and Whistler. For Wilde it was full of ‘wonderful possibilities’, while for Whistler it was ‘the birthplace of art’. But the glamour masked a darker side: Whistler went bankrupt, Wilde went to prison and the composer Peter Warlock was gassed to death. SHAME BY MELANIE FINN

(Weidenfeld & Nicolson, £14.99)

A thought-provoking novel about a diplomat’s wife whose life falls apart dramatically. Abandoned by her spouse, she is involved in a fatal car crash and departs for Africa to navigate a new landscape, both physical and mental. Deftly set in a world of mercenaries, philanthropists and witch doctors in polyester suits, the book asks how one atones for atrocity. THE DAY BEFORE THE FIRE BY MIRANDA FRANCE (Chatto, £12.99)

£20) This is the mouvementé story

of the extraordinary woman who created the 20th century’s most successful modelling agency. Brusque and demanding, Ford had a sharp tongue but an even sharper eye for talent: she helped invent the ‘supermodel’, nurturing the abilities of Lauren Hutton, Christie Brinkley, Jerry Hall, Kim Basinger and Naomi Campbell. This is at once a fascinating biography and a cultural history of the era when fashion and beauty became really big business.

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prepare for the invasion of France and a German plane crashes on a nearby mountainside. Kennedy’s first adult novel, this bittersweet tale is told by 11-year-old Anthony, whose only footwear is some oversized Wellington boots. This is a humorous and touching portrayal of wartime Britain.

When a conflagration devastates Turney House, London’s finest stately home, Lady Alexandra Marchant demands that everything be restored exactly as it was ‘the day before the fire’. But is it possible to resurrect the past? The story focuses on Ros Freeman, who is called in to help. She discovers a ghost in Turney’s Rose Room, and when she meets Alexandra’s brother Sebastian, whose skin wears ‘an expensive glow’, more sparks fly. (

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STILL-LIFE: JODY TODD. *MEET BRIAN SEWELL’S WHIPPET/STAFFIE CROSS, LOTTIE, ON THE BACK PAGE

FOX TOSSING, OCTOPUS WRESTLING AND OTHER FORGOTTEN SPORTS BY EDWARD BROOKE-HITCHING (Simon

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Art for sale

Multicoloured moonscapes, a fruit-fixated simian and lightly torched cardboard... By Josh Spero PI N K S I D E O F T H E M OO N (£2,250) FRIGORIS (2012) BY WE COLONISED THE MOON WHY BUY Maps are the way we explore the world – or, at least, learn

‘UNTITLED FIRE PAINTING’ © YVES KLEIN/DACS LONDON – ADAGP PARIS, 2015. PHOTOGRAPHS: COURTESY OF BERTONI GALLERY, RAFAEL VALLS

how to get from Vogue House to Claridge’s. The two artists behind We Colonised the Moon, though, are more interested in Ordnance Survey guides to the stars. They’ve made colourful maps of two lunar landmarks – the Sea of Cold, left, and the Sea of Tranquillity – as an exercise in futility: no one has been there for 43 years. And they point out how limited the human mind is, calling these vast waterless basins ‘seas’.The moon is far stranger than Earth, so maybe our maps of it should be too. WHEN Until 1 August. WHERE Breese Little, 30b Great Sutton Street, EC1 (breeselittle.com).

MONKEY BUSINESS

SO OT Y SW E E P

(approx. £40,000)

(approx. £3.5m)

A MONKEY EATING A MELON AND OTHER FRUIT, WITH A PARROT, A PARAKEET, A GOLDEN ORIOLE AND OTHER BIRDS AMONG CLASSICAL RUINS (C. 1700) BY JACOB BOGDANI WHY BUY Cats and dogs may

UNTITLED FIRE PAINTING (F5) (C. 1961) BY YVES KLEIN WHY BUY Why is it that, when

an artist sets fire to something, it sells for £3.5m, but when I do it it’s arson? This injustice aside, Klein – famous for that electric blue he painted whole canvases with – is here experimenting with a most unusual artistic material: the flame. By holding it close (but not up-in-a-blaze close) to cardboard, he has produced these calm sooty patterns out of something dangerous and uncontrollable. He seems to be saying that humans can master what they fear and even turn what tends to destroy into something that creates. Either that or he’s managed to make pyromania an art form. WHEN Until 31 July. WHERE Skarstedt, 23 Old Bond Street, W1 (skarstedt.com).

have taken over the net – oh, look, a Westie wearing a hat! <like> <share> <have a small cry at the futility of life> – but we can’t pretend that humans going weak over furry creatures is new. For centuries, old masters painted exotic animals and vegetables. By including these flora and fauna, artists weren’t just being cutesy but demonstrating how mankind has brought nature under its control. The Disney-like wonder may be too much for some, but I think it’s a meme just waiting to happen. WHEN During London Art Week (3–10 July). WHERE Rafael Valls, 11 Duke Street, SW1 (rafaelvalls.co.uk).

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Restaurants

Way to grow! The Ivy’s now got Chelsea covered too, says Jeremy Wayne FRANCO’S

SIDE ORDERS FRANCO’S 61 Jermyn Street, SW1 (020 7499 2211)

THE BARFLY The Natural Philosopher

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With its soft lighting, beautiful mirrors and David Hicks wallpaper so zingy you want to tear it off the walls and take it home in strips, the new-look Franco’s manages to be laidback and glamorous at the same time. They do linguine with crab and wonderful lamb cutlets, and the Italian wines are legion. The smiling staff can’t do enough for you.

L O C A N DA L O C AT E L L I 8 Seymour Street, W1 (020 7935 9088) Following a fire that closed the restaurant for four months, a £1m refit has replicated the original David Collins interior, leaving the place looking reassuringly familiar. The food is as delicious as ever – gnocchi, tortellini in brodo and rabbit with polenta being hard to improve upon – and it’s still wall-towall celebs seven days a week.

LONZO 5 Helmsley Place, E8 (020 3021 0746) This brand-new London Fields bakery, deli and wine shop from the people behind Lardo is worth making the big trek for. Come for wonderful homemade salumi, fried Roman artichokes, rotisserie lemon chicken and incredibly cheap (and mostly cheerful) Italian wine. Everything you see can be eaten in or taken out. PHOTOGRAPH: SHUTTERSTOCK

Brudnizki has thrown everything he’s got at this stablished almost 100 years ago, the Ivy place – you can just imagine the brainstorming has always been luvvie central – the sessions: ‘Mustard-coloured deep-buttoned works canteen for the likes of Laurence chesterfields?’ ‘Yes!’ ‘Botanical prints on the walls?’ Olivier, Bill Nighy and Carey Mulligan. ‘For sure – this is Chelsea, after all!’ ‘Leaded lights It’s also where yours truly (although not remotely just like at the original Ivy?’ ‘Bring ’em on!’ luvvie) met his wife-to-be, and if our twin boys Three large and sumptuous dining rooms, each had turned out to be girls, we would have called plusher than the previous one, lead towards the them Ivy and Caprice. Clearly they have a lot to be thankful for. garden and orangery at the rear. On a moonlit But I digress. The Ivy is spreading. summer evening, the garden is heady Last year saw the launch of the Ivy with the scent of roses and the HOW MUCH Market Grill – still under the radar splash of the fountains is a perfect but frankly the nicest place to eat on backdrop to the popping of corks. the Covent Garden Piazza. And now Cocktails from the bar, which takes WHAT TO EAT the Ivy Chelsea Garden, opened this up almost an entire wall as you walk year on the site of the defunct Henry through the restaurant, reference J Bean’s on the King’s Road, is going the locale; a Sixties Swingers WHAT TO DRINK full throttle, its gorgeous garden the Sanctum fruit punch with Rémy icing on the cake. Martin is my particular poison. More like a resort than a Olives the size of rugby balls and restaurant, it’s part Club ambrosial truffled arancini pave the way for the please-all menu – Med (democratic, standout dishes include yellowfin-tuna carpaccio, that is, with walk-ins seared scallops with fennel, seafood spaghetti encouraged), part and a fishcake with perfect hollandaise. As for the Aman (not a lot of crowd, the chaps all look like Eddie Redmayne, fake Vuitton), with all the sunny enthusiasm with drainpipes so tight you wonder it doesn’t stop and wholesomeness their blood flow, and every single female is blonde. of a Disney theme A veritable Garden of Earthly Delights, in Chelsea. At 197 King’s Road, SW3 (020 3301 0300). park. Designer Martin

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Gadgets

With the single exception of my stomach, objects are getting smaller. This is my homage to the evershrinking world of technology. Enjoy them before you need glasses just to see them. By Emma Freud LITTLE WONDERS

Tiny car

TINY CAR

The single greatest car ever made. First manufactured in the Sixties on the Isle of Man, it was designed to seat one adult carrying a briefcase. Only 50 were made before the company was dissolved, but let us all praise the Lord – or, more specifically, Dragons’ Den – because the world’s tiniest car is back in the game: 54 inches long (roughly the same height as a seven-year-old child), 41 inches wide (roughly the same width as my hips) and weighing nine-stonetwo (ahem). Each one is made to order; if traffic is bad, they fit on the pavement; it does 15 miles per battery charge and has a top speed of 28 mph. BOOM. Or maybe more appropriately... boom. From £12,999 at peelengineering.com

TINY WALKIE-TALKIES

Tiny walkie-talkies

Me: ‘Come in, bedroom 4, come in, what is that noise? Roger.’ Spike: ‘Roger.’ Me: ‘Nooooo, we’ve discussed this. You don’t say “Roger” on its own – you say “Roger” at the end of the thing you’ve said. Roger.’ Spike: ‘No, I mean that noise is Roger. Roger.’ Me: ‘Oh, what is Roger doing?’ Spike: ‘He has wee’d on my teeny tiny walkie-talkie and I had to tick him off.’ Me: ‘You can’t tick off a guinea pig.’ Spike: ‘Oh. Sorry, Roger. Roger.’ Am hoping they are wee-resistant. Range is easily top floor to basement. Also has a Morse-code function for those children who wear three-piece suits and monocles. £10.15 for set of two at amazon.co.uk

WORLD’S TINIEST HELICOPTER Tiny helicopter

Tiny ring/toolkit

Tiny projector

It had to happen. In fact, the only mystery is why it has taken so long. The teeny one-person helicopter IS HERE. Well, it’s in Japan, but it is on its way to us, admittedly rather slowly. It can fly at 55mph and do an hour on a tank of petrol, which should get you from your home to the office and back no problem. It’s so light you don’t need a pilot’s licence to fly it, but if you weigh more than 14 stone you are too heavy for it and will have to go on the bus instead. And now for the technical part: the Gen H-4 is powered by four tiny 10-horsepower engines, meaning it has the collective might of 40 flying horses. Unicorns, if you will. This is a 40-unicorn machine. Don’t be confused... I also literally have absolutely no idea what I’m talking about. More info at gen-corp.jp

TINY RING/TOOLKIT

Firstly, it’s a nice chunky ring to attract the gentlemen callers. Secondly, it has a bottle opener in it for kicking the lid off the Coronas that you and Channing Tatum are enjoying while kayaking down a white-water river at sunset after he tapped you on the shoulder and asked about your interesting ring. Thirdly, there’s a serrated blade to cut the fishing wire you need to catch a fresh mackerel for your sexily impromptu alfresco riverside dinner. Fourthly, there is a super-sharp blade for cutting out the potentially lethal bullet fired by a mystery sniper into Channing Tatum’s bicep (did I mention he is President of America at this time?) without leaving a noticeable scar. Fifthly, there is a minisaw for threatening Kevin Spacey, who fired the deadly bullet from behind a tree because President Channing refused to pass Kevin’s corrupt Insider Dealings Bill in Congress. Sixthly, check out the tiny comb for smoothing down your fringe ready for the moment when Channing wakes from his post-shoot-out coma and sees you, his saviour, standing at his hospital bed, flanked by Matt Damon and Ryan Gosling, currently the President’s security officers, who are in awe of you for the deft bullet surgery and unexpected arrest at sawpoint of Kevin Spacey. An entire action movie in a single item of jewellery. Bargain. £250 at boonerings.com

TINY PROJECTOR

This brilliant titchy gadget began as a Kickstarter campaign and is now taking over America – TBH, I made that up, but it might be and it’s so fabulous that it should be. This is how it works: log on to the Getprojecteo website, click through to your Instagram account, choose your favourite nine photos of boyfriend, child, guinea pig or lunch, click go, let them take £23 off your credit card and a week later you will get a projector the size of a matchbox in the post. It has a tiny viewfinderstyle wheel – like the ones for Disney pictures, or photos of tourism hotspots in Bruges – and projects your photos onto a (small) wall in full, glorious retro colours. Fun tip: photograph words and use the projector to propose to or ditch someone. Might be the most useful present ever. £23 at getprojecteo.com

There is a super-sharp blade for cutting out the potentially lethal bullet fired by a mystery sniper into Channing Tatum’s bicep WorldMags.net

N E X T M O N T H GA D G E T S F O R PE O PL E YO U DI S L I K E

T h i s i s m e o n Tw i t t e r – @ e m m a f r e u d

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Notes to self

our 90-year-old grandmother called it Pelmanism. Others know it as Concentration, Memory or Pairs. Whatever. It’s the card game that you played with your bickering siblings for most of the summer holidays – a deck of cards laid out on the carpet, face down, with everyone taking it in turns to flip two over and find a pair – while the rain hammered outside. But why play it with a boring-snoring deck of cards when you could use a hand-designed set by British artist Mel Elliott? Instead of trumps and hearts – yawnsville – there are pretty pairs of Cara Delevingne, David Bowie and colourful Reebok high-tops to discover. Along with retro record players and Polaroid cameras. JOY. You’ll still want to kill all your siblings, though. Sorry. We merely offer fun diversions on this page of Tatler. Not miracles.

SEEING DOUBLE CARD GAME, £14.50, AT PEDLARS.CO.UK

PHOTOGRAPHS: REX FEATURES, JODY TODD

It’s all downhill from here... By Emma Kennedy

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L IA T EC R SP EPO R

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THE YOUNG HEIRS’ CLUB

Are you going to inherit a castle? Are you plagued by nightmares about sagging roofs and empty tearooms? Worry no more! The solutions to all your problems can be found at an unexpectedly wild conference for Europe’s foremost heirs and heiresses. Matthew Bell joins the party Photographed by MUIR VIDLER

t’s a terrifying scenario. You think you’ve got your life in order, then... Bam! You inherit a stately. Your days of frolicking are over. You have roofs to fix and baths to heat. What are you supposed to do with all those rooms? And, crucially, how are you going to make it pay? Because, contrary to what some assume, being lord of the manor isn’t all footmen and fancy-dress parties. It’s a lot of hard work, worrying about damp and drains, and finding increasingly innovative ways to support the estate. Henry Lytton Cobbold, master of Knebworth House, ruefully told Tatler last year that over £5m had been spent on a vast restoration plan in his time – ‘simply designed to keep the house from falling down’ – but another £3.6m was needed. ‘The only way to solve the situation is to find a golden egg!’ ]

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L IA T EC OR P S EP R

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[There was a time when houses came with plenty of land, which to pay death duties. It was bought by the Country Houses Association, generated money to pay for the upkeep. But farming is not nearly which ran it as a retirement home for members of the gentility before as lucrative as it once was, unless you’re doing it on a really big scale. James got his hands on it. ‘My family home is very lucky to have James as Look no further than the toils of Lord Cardigan and his estate. its owner,’ says Cartwright-Hignett. ‘No country house could hope for When times were tough in previous generations, someone sold off a better custodian.’ the majority of the prime Wiltshire land (nearly 44,500 acres of it) ‘It’s the location that makes it work,’ Perkins tells a packed room and kept the house, which is the worst thing you can do. Land will during a session titled: ‘Making It Pay: Diversification for the “Modern” always make money, whereas a big leaky Grade I? Not so much. Country House’. ‘We’re only an hour from London or Birmingham, Cue acrimony, a major falling out with his heir and minutes from the M40. So it’s really and trustees, and the eventual sale, last year, easy to get here, but we’re in the middle of STATELY STATISTICS* the countryside. It wouldn’t work as a party of Tottenham House, which had been in the venue if we were in North Wales or hours family for 200 years. from anywhere, and that’s something to But panic not. Help is at hand. In the shape bear in mind if you’re thinking of doing of the Young Successors or, to give them their anything similar.’ precise name, the Next Generation Group of It’s for inspiration like this that people have the Historic Houses Association. The Next travelled hundreds of miles. This is a EuropeGen meet up once a year to attend seminars wide organisation with some 1,500 members, and lectures and to help each other by sharing some of whom have come this weekend from their experiences of dedicating their lives to Belgium, Switzerland, France, Italy and keeping vast mountains of rubble standing. Norway. They have paid £200 per head for Take Viscount Raynham, chairman of the outings to local country houses on Friday, UK HHA Next Generation committee. He lectures and seminars – followed by a black-tie was only 32 when his grandfather, the 7th ball – on Saturday, plus further outings on Marquess of Townshend, died in 2010 and Sunday. Last year’s event – the first ever – was effectively put him in charge of the 4,000-acre in Lisbon, and next year they’re off to Paris. estate, bypassing his father. He had to buy out They are a Euro crowd, ranging in age from the rest of his family to secure ownership of the late 20s to early 50s: the tweed is smart and estate. ‘That was very painful,’ he says. ‘But we got there.’ He granted his father, the 8th shiny, the gilets are black and puffy. Many of marquess, a 10-year lease to live in the house. them have never met before, but they all have ‘He’s moved in, he’s got 10 years to live there, one thing in common: back home, there’s a if he wants to, and on the 10th anniversary, monster eating up their income, and they that’s it.’ It may sound brutal, but running want to know what to do about it. a large estate is a business, not a hobby. The Like the Frenchwoman who can’t help current arrangement, whereby Lord Raynham interjecting during Perkins’s talk about the owns the estate but his father lives there, will importance of location. ‘But my chateau is six hours from Paris!’ she wails. ‘What am save the family millions in inheritance tax. ‘It I supposed to do? I can’t move it!’ Indeed took a long time to negotiate,’ says Raynham, not. But nobody here is pretending that who is also head of agricultural investment being a successor is easy. for Knight Frank. ‘Having your father as a Earlier that day, Clarissa Vallat, an expert leaseholder isn’t always straightforward.’ a adviser on tax and heritage from Sotheby’s, had This year’s gathering of young heirs and stressed the importance of families discussing heiresses took place over a weekend in March succession as early as possible. ‘Talk about it. at Aynhoe Park, the Oxfordshire home of Be brave,’ she counselled. ‘The alternative can music producer James Perkins, 46. Perkins is be so much worse. Nobody wants a dispute. not a young successor, in that he didn’t end up at Aynhoe through inheritance. He made a Nobody wants it all to go on lawyers’ fees.’ fortune from organising raves and has actually Cue laughter as she gave the floor to Patricia chosen to live in his Grade I-listed 17thSykes, a partner at the ancient family law firm Hunters, which has acted for some of century manor, which he bought in 2004. Britain’s grandest families. She recalled the And, importantly for this crowd, he knows how days before the automatic tax exemption of to make a stately work. He has spent thousands spouses, when a woman who loved her turning Aynhoe into a party venue, which he rents out for up to £30,000 per weekend. There’s a disco-ready orangery, husband and her home could lose both in close succession. She advised those with an estate to choose carefully which child to leave it to. ‘It’s a games room and bar, not to mention a basement nightclub for the after-afterparty. He also likes taxidermy: every room is perked up with a not necessarily the eldest,’ she warned. ‘Identify who loves the asset most.’ She told how one client had offered his estates in the North-East and stuffed polar bear or giraffe. Sussex to his 17-year-old son, but the son wasn’t interested and turned In a curious twist, Aynhoe is actually the family seat of the weekend’s organiser, William Cartwright-Hignett, 32. It was his ancestor, John them down. Later in life, the son regretted his decision. The moral of Cartwright, who bought the estate in the early 17th century, and built the story was to keep conversations about inheritance open, as a teenager the house in 1615. Cartwright-Hignett’s grandfather and uncle were may feel differently when he grows up. ‘My response is, always, for God’s killed in a car crash, and in 1959 the family was forced to sell the house sake, talk to each other.’

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* Figures courtesy of the Historic Houses Association

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Another tip she offered was to involve your heir in running the estate sooner rather than later. She told the story of the client who was loved by his estate workers, but whose son had never been involved. The day after his funeral, they turned their backs on the son, leaving him in an impossible situation. One estate held up as a model of success is Goodwood in West Sussex, where tradition dictates that the next generation takes over when the son reaches 40. This is what happened with the current Earl of March and Kinrara, who was able to enjoy a relatively carefree youth before settling down to business. It also allows his father, the Duke of Richmond, to continue living at Goodwood but to enjoy old age without having to worry about it. Perhaps the best point Sykes made was that making a fortune should not be a one-off occasion. ‘Preferably, the next generation should go out and make a lot of money,’ she said. ‘That’s what someone did a long time before you. It didn’t all just come from nowhere. Every generation needs a fresh injection of money, otherwise you end up with an estate that has been nibbled away at.’ James Hervey-Bathurst, vice-president of the European Historic Houses Association, agrees. ‘You have to have a job,’ he says. ‘Even the richest dukes have to make their estates work.’ His own home, Eastnor Castle in Herefordshire, is a model of the diversified estate. Among the many

business ventures based in the park is a Land Rover off-road testing facility, and the house has been used as the set of several films. His top tip is that gardens make for better tourist traps than houses. ‘Gardens are now big attractions,’ he said. ‘They change every season, so you get repeat returns. Whereas a house, after you’ve seen it once, you don’t go back.’ It’s a good point. But the most popular take-home message is this: that young successors can make a real and valuable contribution. ‘We should be recognised for the jobs we create and for the taxes and VAT we pay,’ says Hervey-Bathurst. There are rounds of applause and head-nodding at this, and a sense that it’s all worth it to keep the leaky roof over your head. They are fighters, not quitters, these people – a tiny and privileged elite determined to keep their palaces in order. And once the hard work of note-taking and listening is over, it is time to do what Aynhoe Park is built for – party. There is dancing and drinking and just a little bit of snogging. The next day it’s off to Oxford, to nurse hangovers with a tour of the Ashmolean Museum, and then home, back to the statelies of Europe. Personally, I’m already sleeping a lot sounder, safe in the knowledge that if anyone tries to dump a castle on me, I know who to call. (

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CR AZY, SEXY, COOL Alma Jodorowsky on playing fire hockey with Cara Delevingne and being discovered by Karl Lagerfeld. By Luciana Bellini

lma Jodorowsky is very good at a lot of things – acting, singing, being hot and French – but fire hockey is not one of them. The 23-year-old found that out the hard way on the set of the highly anticipated film Kids in Love. Her castmates Cara Delevingne and Gala Gordon are old pros at the game, but Alma wasn’t a natural. ‘I was SO bad at it!’ she says. ‘When we were filmed playing it, I was supposed to score a goal, but I just couldn’t. In the end we had to fake it.’ Luckily, her lack of skill with flaming balls hasn’t held her back. She plays the female lead in the film alongside Bafta-winning actor Will Poulter; it’s a coming-of-age love story and Alma’s character is ‘the free spirit of the group – a very artistic, bohemian girl’. Apart from Alma, the young cast were all friends before filming started. ‘I was the Alma with her only foreigner and everyone else knew each boyfriend Ulysse other, but they were so, so nice. There was Leverve, 2015... a really great energy in the group.’ And since it wrapped, she’s been back to party with Gala Gordon and Skins actor Sebastian de Souza. ‘I love coming to London to meet up with them – we’ve had some great nights at the Groucho.’ Alma lives in Paris, in the 10th arrondissement; she says she can’t imagine being based anywhere else. ‘I’m always discovering new places, even though I grew up there. I like it because the architecture is quite twisted.’ She always wanted to be an actress – her father is the actor Brontis

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Jodorowsky, son of the surrealist filmmaker Alejandro Jodorowsky. Alma spent most of her childhood backstage at the theatre: ‘I don’t remember ever wanting to do anything else.’ She trained at two different acting schools in Paris and has been performing professionally since her teens, but her first really big break came in the French film Blue Is the Warmest Colour, which won the Palme d’Or at the Cannes Film Festival in 2013. In it, Alma played a cool, Gauloises-smoking schoolgirl who gives one of the protagonists their first girl-on-girl kiss. ‘It was very special shooting that – the whole film was improvised, so there were no scripts. We had a feeling that something big was going to happen with the film, because it was so intense.’ Her other big passion, besides boyfriend Ulysse Leverve and their dog Merlin, is music, in particular her ‘dreamy pop’ band Burning Peacocks, which she set up with her friend David Baudart three years ...with Karl Lagerfeld, 2013 ago. Alma provides the breathy vocals and stars in their quirky music videos; they’re currently recording their first album. She’s also a Chanel muse and was selected by Karl Lagerfeld to star in his Little Black Jacket exhibition. ‘They just called me up one day and asked if I wanted to have coffee in Coco Chanel’s apartment. Obviously I was, like, “Of course!”’ And just when you’re starting to worry that she might be TOO cool, she lets slip her favourite pastime: karaoke. Her song of choice? ‘Anything by Destiny’s Child. Or Jennifer Lopez.’ (

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PHOTOGRAPH: PRESTON THOMPSON/INSTAGRAM, DOMINIC O’NEILL, GETTY IMAGES

Styled by DEEP KAILEY Photographed by MARC HOM

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ALMA JODOROWSKY WEARS ORGANZA DRESS, £29,775; BOLERO, £8,370, BOTH BY CHANEL

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POPLIN BLOUSE, £1,420; TWEED SKIRT, £2,420, BOTH BY CHANEL

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PHOTOGRAPHS: TKTKTKTKTK

GEORGETTE-CREPE DRESS, £22,160; WHITE-GOLD, BLACK-DIAMOND & DIAMOND RING, POA, BOTH BY CHANEL

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MUSLIN BLOUSE, £17,760; CALFSKIN SKIRT, £3,190; CALFSKIN PATENT BOOTS, £710; WHITEGOLD, DIAMOND & ONYX EARRINGS, POA, ALL BY CHANEL FOR STOCKIST, SEE ADDRESS BOOK. HAIR BY EAMONN HUGHES AT PREMIER HAIR AND MAKEUP, USING KERASTASE MATERIALISTE. MAKE-UP BY ZOE TAYLOR AT JED ROOT, USING LANCOME MAKE-UP AND SKINCARE. NAILS BY MICHELLE CLASS AT JED ROOT, USING LANCOME VERNIS IN LOVE. PRODUCTION, ELLE KORHALILLER. FASHION ASSISTANT, JESSICA RADCLIFFE-BROWN

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avid Arendt is a charming fellow, with near-perfect English and a dry sense of humour. A Luxembourger by birth, he trained as a lawyer, worked in finance and then specialised in logistics. And in that field he’s risen to become, in his own words, a landlord. Of a warehouse. But what a warehouse. Le Freeport Luxembourg has a special bay for armoured vehicles. Bar the lobby, it has been designed and decorated (matte black, steel doors, alienating atmosphere) in such a way that any one floor in the four-storey, 235,000-squarefoot purpose-built facility looks exactly like another, the better to confuse any Hatton Gardenesque thieves – who would anyway have to deal with hundreds of CCTV cameras, biometric recognition pads all over the place, internal security by Brink’s, walls thick with steel and concrete and much, much else. Should you want to rush pallets of ]

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[gold, pouches of diamonds or, say, a crated Modigliani from a cargo plane to Le Freeport, the tarmac is at most 500 yards away. And if you happened to be storing a Leonardo da Vinci there – as well you might, if you were the sort of high-net-worth individual (HNWI) who found a freeport useful – you would be very cheered to know that ‘fire extinction is based on injection of nitrogen’, in Arendt’s words. ‘We have no sprinkler here, no water. If a fire breaks out, [art] works would not be destroyed by fire or water.’ He allowed himself a wintry smile. ‘So we do not have to make that... painful arbitrage.’ By which he means there’ll be no need to choose whether to let that Leonardo go up in flames or just soak it to a pulp. Which is a relief. Arendt is, in fact, managing director of Le Freeport, which opened last September. It exists to serve the yearning of the world’s wealthy (and their dealers) to store fine art, fine wines, precious metals et al in total security and privacy. As a bonus, there are tax attractions: you can store something in Le Freeport for as long as you like and sell it to someone else while it’s in there; buyers won’t have to pay VAT, import/export duty or capital gains tax until they move it out – if they do. And these days, when art for some is just an asset class, why not leave it in Le Freeport? And if you can’t bear to part with it, why not raise a loan on it? As collateral goes, it’s safe as houses, or rather a Luxembourger Fort Knox. But it also serves a need, a need inspired by the success of the Geneva Freeport, the oldest, in its time the most scandalous and certainly the most-packed-with-fine-art facility in the

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world. There were an estimated 1.2 million works there in 2003; according to Jean-René Saillard of the Fine Art Fund Group, ‘it would probably be the best museum in the world, if it was a museum.’ This is an insurer’s nightmare, particularly once you know how freeports work. For the deal is this: Arendt and his like merely rent out space to ‘operators’ – Brink’s, say, for gold, and Mana Contemporary or Fine Art Logistics for art. But Arendt doesn’t know what the operators have in their spaces. It’s not his business – all he’s obliged to do is make sure the facility doesn’t admit any ‘weapons, narcotics or nuclear materials’. So rooms could be groaning with Matisses, but a freeport’s manager doesn’t know and nor does anyone else have a holistic view; operator A doesn’t know what operator B has brought in. No wonder insurers were getting twitchier and twitchier about the billions in value sitting in the still-flourishing Geneva Freeport and its old-fashioned premises. As Robert Read, head of art and private clients at Hiscox Insurance, told me: ‘To have all that art in one spot creates quite a headache. You’d like it spread as much as possible. And Le Freeport Luxembourg is the Rolls-Royce of storage facilities. It’s fantastic, built to the highest specs.’ David Arendt’s ears must be burning. Still, Arendt has other selling points he was keen to trumpet, one being the proximity of the airport. So he handed me to Patrick Silverio, manager of special services for Luxair Cargo. He’s an affable chap, fizzing with enthusiasm for the ease with which goods can get from a plane to Le Freeport: ‘I cannot imagine as fast an environment anywhere else in Europe.

From the aircraft to the facility is 200 to 250 metres.’ Depending where on the plane the goods were loaded, they could be at Le Freeport in ‘two to three minutes, optimum time’. On the tarmac, for my delectation, was a Boeing 747-8 Freighter plane; it’s got a range of 4,390 miles and a payload of 308,000lb. Inside was just one large container, dwarfed by the immensity of the hold. Back on the tarmac, a scissor-lift truck approached the nose of the plane. The nose opened, the container slid out onto the truck and the truck zipped off to Le Freeport, set behind tall walls topped with razor wire. A huge gate opened to reveal three enormous doors marked 7, 8 and 9 – 7 is for those armoured vehicles. All in all, an impressive bit of shock and awe. Less awesome is Le Freeport itself. It is, to be honest, disappointing from the outside: essentially a box. Inside, there are 160 rooms and the temperature is kept at 21°C, with a humidity level of 55 per cent. (Wine, as you might hope, is treated differently, and kept at 13°C to 16°C.) There are data rooms in which to keep digital art and, well, data; enormous lifts capable of bearing eight tons, which would make your Antony Gormley feel like a Lego toy; and the largest room is 4,000 square feet, with a ceiling to match. It’s the St Peter’s of security. Arendt, naturally, is bullish about his building. It is, he’s said, ‘a work of art in itself ’, a place to which you might invite friends. ‘We have,’ he declared, in a well-oiled sound bite, ‘a mix of competencies: a Swiss concept, based on years of experience; an Italian architect; German technology; Portuguese street art [in the shape of a mural

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Left, the opaque showrooms off the lobby. Below, one of the deliberately disorientating corridors.

Right, Arendt at the biometric gates (encased after hours in steel doors) that lead to the ultrasecure basement

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in the lobby – Luxembourg has a large Portuguese community]; and Luxembourg execution.’ Jacques Temple, a jovial representative from Brink’s, put his oar in: ‘There’s one thing you missed: a French cook!’ Temple was meant to show me a bullion strongroom, deep in the basement, itself a Xanadu of ‘added security’, immense steel gates and daunting mood. Exciting. Except the strongroom was actually in use – which meant that Temple was no longer privy to the code to enter it. So we stared, mesmerised, at the forbidding door. Could Temple say

opening the door and closing it, nothing more.’ He grinned. ‘Don’t take it personally.’ This might suggest a laugh riot. It’s not. The aesthetic is chilly, sterile; the atmosphere that of a David Cronenberg movie – even the building’s lighting designer, Johanna Grawunder, has said, ‘It’s like the headquarters of an evil boss.’ This made me feel sorry for Aude Lemogne and Aymeric Thuault, two directors of Link Management, a ‘service provider’ to Le Freeport that bills itself as ‘the first international art advisory firm based in Luxembourg’. Both have master’s degrees in finance, and both studied art history at Lille; both are almost parodically ‘art world’ to look

at, Thuault with his long, smooth hair and over-tailored suit, Lemogne with her bee-stung lips and all-black outfit. They’re representative of Arendt’s boast that Le Freeport is a one-stop shop, together with the in-house restoration facilities and the in-house art expert who can ‘value collections in times of crisis, like a divorce’. But though there’s a Warhol and an early-18thcentury Spanish painting of St Michael and the Dragon in Lemogne and Thuault’s office, it’s an antiseptic environment they inhabit, far removed from the splendours of Sotheby’s or David Zwirner’s Mayfair townhouse. There is, though, a mystery and drama to the eight showrooms that line the lobby. No one can see into them, and no one can see out. No one can see who’s buying, or who’s selling, or even what they’re proposing to sell – which is very important in the stratospherically secretive world of fine art. Inside them, enthused Thuault, a potential buyer can gaze, transported, at a Velázquez or a Rothko, in complete privacy for as long as he or she likes, deciding whether or not to part with millions. ‘If they’re buying, they’re not buying because of the place where it’s hanging. They’re buying because of the work. They really want to spend time with an artwork in the calmest environment they can.’ And, given you might buy it and then leave it in Le Freeport, it might be the only time you do look at it, for years. As Thuault said: ‘We’re offering collectors and dealers the most sophisticated storage space here, right in the heart of Europe. And also the ability to exchange; it’s a new platform for owners to exchange their artworks in a very safe and credible place.’ C O N T I N U E D O N P A G E 1 5 9

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to work for less reputable companies.’ Like HSBC? Temple smiled slightly manically and made absolutely no comment. On we moved. Arendt wanted to show me a typical, secure chamber in which art might be stored. A young man called Claude Zavaglio appeared and opened the immense door (I can’t tell you how). In it, for illustrative purposes, was a half-disassembled crate with a copy of the Mona Lisa poking out of it. ‘Claude,’ said Arendt, ‘will tell you how art is stored, packed and transported.’ ‘No, I won’t,’ said Claude. ‘You know my instructions from Geneva; I’m

David Arendt doesn’t know what operators keep in the spaces – all he has to do is make sure there are no ‘weapons, narcotics or nuclear materials’ there were millions behind it? Or billions? He laughed. ‘No, I cannot tell you that.’ Why? Because he had no idea? ‘No, we know exactly how much we have. But for security reasons we never disclose such information.’ OK, but how about their customers? Aren’t they worried they might be storing some warlord’s ill-gotten gains? No, said Temple, ‘the customer will be not only identified, but screened. We will work only with trustworthy partners, with well-known companies, banks. Luxembourg as a country has been very demanding in terms of controls we have to put in place here. And this is for [the reputation of ] Le Freeport, but it’s also for us, Brink’s. We cannot afford

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T HE

GUINNESS W HO G O T

A W

Urbane, witty, wildly talented – Hugo Guinness waited until he was 37 to flee England for New York and freedom. But what an impression he has made since then, nominated for an Oscar for co-writing The Grand Budapest Hotel with Wes Anderson, making a magnificent marriage and charming everyone who enters his orbit. By Heather Hodson

n the mid-Nineties, after Hugo Guinness had spent seven years making ceramic pots on the family farm in Hampshire, he headed to New York with the idea of launching his Coldpiece Pottery business in America. He found himself renting a loft in the Meatpacking District – at the time a neighbourhood of slaughterhouses and transvestite hookers, he fondly recalls, ‘with zombies everywhere in rubber and leather, and an S&M bar at the end of my block called the Lure, which I didn’t go into. But I did love the name.’

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He remembers experiencing a great sense of liberation. ‘I just felt completely free. Most people do that at age 20, but obviously, being a slow developer, I was 37 before I’d ever had fresh air, in the sense of not having at least one sister or parent or friend that I’d known all my life involved in my life. England’s such a small little clique.’ It’s also where he honed the sense of humour that has brought him a nomination for an Oscar. An example: when he first got to New York, on a perverse whim he sent his CV to Anna Wintour, a friend, and filled it with all her ]

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successful of Anderson’s films by far, snagging nine of this year’s Oscar nominations, including one for writing (Best Original Screenplay), for which Guinness and Anderson shared equal billing. As Anderson readily admits: ‘Hugo and I invented the Grand Budapest story together from the start, and there is no one else I could have turned to. No Hugo, no movie. We had a great time every minute of it.’ ‘It’s done absolutely nothing for me at all,’ Guinness says, in his deadpan, borderlinecamp accent. ‘The telephone has not rung once with any offer of any kind. My life hasn’t changed one bit.’ (Though he is, in fact, starting work on a new script with Anderson.) It is a month after the Academy Awards and we are sitting in the Brooklyn house he shares with his wife, the artist Elliott Puckette, their two daughters, Bella, 17, and Violet, 14, a dog and two rabbits. Meeting with Guinness can be unnerving; you don’t know if the tongue will be acid or alkaline. (‘Please promise me,’ he emails before our interview, ‘you won’t ask really obvious, boring questions culled from a Google search?’) But if the boredom levels are set high, on the morning I visit he is warm and genial and very funny, impeccably dressed and with the air of a raffish English professor in horn-rimmed spectacles. Guinness and Puckette bought the 19thcentury house in 1998, before Brooklyn was fashionable, and an atmosphere of romantic, eclectic charm prevails, the walls covered with Guinness’s beautiful ink drawings of flowers and Puckette’s vast canvases, many of which sit in the permanent collections of museums, among them the Whitney Museum of

‘Hugo and I invented the Grand Budapest story together from the start. No Hugo, no movie’ – WES ANDERSON Far left, a still from The Grand Budapest Hotel. Left, a drawing by Guinness of Stefan Zweig, whose writings inspired the film. Below, Wes Anderson, third from left, with Guinness, centre, and cast members at the 87th Academy Awards, 2015

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American Art. Earlier, Puckette had left with the dog for her studio a 20-minute walk away, where she makes 10-by-10-foot abstract paintings saturated with colour, on which she scores intricate calligraphic lines using a razor blade. Bella and Violet are at school nearby and won’t be back until 4pm; Puckette at 6pm. Guinness, who is highly sociable, doesn’t particularly like being alone. ‘I try to read funny books and make myself laugh, because otherwise I’d just get really depressed. I was with some friends last night and we were talking about these quite amazing mood swings one goes through if you’re on your own all day. I literally can be suicidal at 10am and absolutely over the moon by 3pm.’ He pauses. ‘It’s a rollercoaster.’ Guinness has a habit of making light, self-disparaging remarks – it is one of the endearing things about him and signals genuine modesty rather than the humble boast. ‘Some artists have these giant egos and make fantastic things on a huge scale,’ he explains, ‘and then there are more timid people, like me, who just either want to make people laugh or do something that’s sort of pretty and decorative. Going any further than that I don’t feel comfortable with.’ To hear Guinness tell it, he hardly wrote Grand Budapest at all. ‘Wes did most of it,’ he demurs. ‘What I contributed was the humorous dialogue, I suppose, and some of the ideas of what would happen next.’ In fact, Guinness’s sensibility runs right through it. Part caper movie, part elegy to Europe’s pre-war culture, part throwback to the films of Terry-Thomas with their fraudulent dandies and absolute rotters, it turns on the tale of Monsieur Gustave, redoubtable concierge of the Grand Budapest and a man of unusual sexual tastes who sleeps with elderly bejewelled ladies. Guinness and Anderson spent three years, on and off, writing the film (during which time Anderson filmed Moonrise Kingdom), and based the Gustave character on their mutual friend Robin Hurlstone, the English art dealer, Old Etonian and former lover of Joan Collins, as well as of John Jermyn, seventh Marquess of Bristol. What is it about Hurlstone that he felt was so movie-worthy? ‘Don’t you find that you come across some people in life who are a sort of composite of what they’ve seen and what they’ve read and what films they’ve watched?’ he asks. ‘They study things and think, “Oh, I like that bit, I’ll try that, I’ll get my suits made here and I’ll wear these kind of shirts and I will make something of myself.” And Robin definitely falls into that category of presenting himself. He has beautiful manners, the way he listens to people, and he’s very funny and knows ]

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PHOTOGRAPHS: GETTY IMAGES, DAFYDD JONES, RICHARD YOUNG, HUGO GUINNESS

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[pet hates. ‘It was brilliant,’ recalls another friend, the landscape architect Miranda Brooks. ‘As far as I remember, after a period in the Coldstream Guards he had gone to Switzerland to be a human lab rat for a pharmaceutical company and had now arrived in New York to pursue his interest in horoscopes. He included a few short stories making very close-to-the-bone fun of all his friends. Mine was entitled “Roll Me Over in the Clover”.’ He didn’t get a job. What these recollections reveal about Hugo Guinness are a number of things. There is the maverick streak, which bubbles up in a highly eccentric approach to jobs and jokes and going about things. There is his desire to escape the confines of being a Guinness in a certain stratum of English society. And there’s the wit – a sly, dry mockery, deliberately outrageous and compulsively entertaining. Guinness’s gift in the humour department is hard to overrate: it has brought him great success in New York and emerges in everything he turns his hand to – the pottery, painting, illustrating, decorating, entertaining and writing. His captivating lino-cut prints of people and dogs, and everyday objects like underpants, accompanied by words like ‘Matchbox Mon Amour’, are avidly collected; his eponymous line with the luxury goods company Coach and his collaboration with J Crew clothing are commercial and artistic hits. And now, at 55, he has won unassailable credibility as a writer with The Grand Budapest Hotel, which he co-wrote with his close friend and comic ally, Wes Anderson. A hymn to a bygone era of Thirties Mitteleuropean life, it is the most commercially and critically

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Above, Guinness and friend at a party, 1982. Above right, at Eton, 1976. Above far right, one of his ink drawings

Below left, at Lucien Thynneâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s 21st-birthday party, 1986. Below, with his wife Elliott Puckette, 2014. Right, his mother, Pauline Guinness, c. 1966. Below right, his father, James Guinness, 1960

Right, with his siblings Julia, Anita, Sabrina and Miranda, 1965. Far right, with Andy Warhol at the ICA, 1978

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– something he now regrets – for London, where he did a stint as a copywriter at the advertising agency Collett, Dickenson, Pearce and came up with the line ‘Sauces for Courses’. He spent two years working at his father’s bank, Guinness Mahon, before fleeing to enrol in the studio ceramics course at the Harrow College of Art, where he finally found his métier. In London, Guinness ran with a smart set, partly inherited from his sisters. Bryan Ferry was a great friend; so were the late Isabella Blow and Robert Fox. Guinness got a reputation as a bit of a rake – he had lots of girlfriends, always very beautiful. ‘I did get engaged a couple of times, but I broke it off, which I feel guilty about, but it was the right thing to do,’ he says, trying to look regretful but then giving up. ‘I went out with this girl, the parents never liked me at all, they thought I was the worst possible thing for their gorgeous, precious daughter. So I went to tell them the news of our engagement, this exciting news, and he had a very red face, Mr B, and Mrs B was carrying this huge tray with all the tea things on it, and I said, “We would like to get married.” Mr B went scarlet, exploding, and she literally dropped the whole tray on the floor.’ He pauses, looking gleeful. ‘It was like an Oscar Wilde play.’ Looking back on his London life now, he says, ‘I don’t think I had all that much fun.’

Above, Guinness working in his studio, 2003. Above right, his friend Martin Amis and brotherin-law Sir Tom Stoppard in Brooklyn, 2015. Right, a drawing by Guinness of Martin Amis

[ lots of things and is cultured.’ The interior designer Nicky Haslam, who has known Guinness since he was 15, sees striking similarities between Guinness and Hurlstone. ‘There’s a lot of Robin’s humour in Hugo – Robin’s sort of slightly choosy humour. There’s a big crossover, that exquisiteness of Robin’s, but Hugo slightly underplays it or even slightly mocks it in himself. He’s a great self-mocker, which is wonderful. And yet Hugo’s in every swim, isn’t he? He knows a lot about art and things, apart from just being able to do it. He’s got a very good, very eclectic eye.’ Hugo Arthur Rundell Guinness was born into the banking line of the Guinnesses (‘Not nearly as rich as the brewing Guinnesses,’ Haslam notes), the only son of the society beauty Pauline Mander and the Royal Navy veteran and financier James Guinness. He has four sisters, all staggeringly pretty. His twin, Julia Samuel, is a founder patron of Child Bereavement UK (‘She’s basically a saint,’ he says. ‘I’m the evil twin and she’s this really good person’). In the middle is Anita, Amschel Rothschild’s widow and the mother of Kate (married to and later divorced from Ben Goldsmith), Alice (wife of Zac Goldsmith) and James (currently engaged to Nicky Hilton). The eldest, Sabrina and

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‘I went to this really tough prep school because my parents thought I was a bit sort of camp and effeminate’ Miranda, also twins, always seemed to hang out with music people and movie stars. Miranda worked as Mick Jagger’s personal assistant and is married to Keith Payne, the sculptor and painter and former set designer for The Rolling Stones, while Sabrina, now married to Sir Tom Stoppard, is the one-time inamorata of the Prince of Wales, Jagger and Michael Douglas. Does he get on with his sisters? ‘I like them all, actually. I can see the kind of good points of all of them. I’m not saying that we haven’t had difficult periods when we haven’t got on, but I think that’s what happens with siblings – it’s a sort of competition.’ At seven he was despatched to prep school, which he loathed. ‘I went to this really tough one because my parents thought I was a bit sort of camp and a bit sort of effeminate.’ He pauses. ‘A friend said to me, “Well, I hope they got their money back.”’ Eton was much more fun, after which he bypassed university

(When I mention this to Haslam, he snorts: ‘He put on a very good show if he didn’t. He was a live wire of that whole scene.’) Various poisons played their part, and he found the pop culture depressing. ‘It was the punk era, it was a difficult time, it was very druggy and a bit dark, and maybe I was just in with the wrong crowd, they’re still all great friends of mine, they’ve all done fine, but...’ The family stamp also had its drawbacks, he explains. ‘It’s like being in a sort of tribe. You’re dealing with all these cousins and relations and everyone’s gossiping about everybody else.’ Haslam sees Guinness’s expatriate bout in New York as ‘really his breakaway from Englishness, and a sort of norm he could have fallen into of being a landowner with shooting and hunting and fishing and going to parties’. What saved Guinness permanently from this fate was Puckette, a force in her own right, from a well-known family of academics

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PHOTOGRAPHS: FRANCOIS HALARD/TRUNK ARCHIVE, HUGO GUINNESS/INSTAGRAM, BOO GEORGE/TRUNK ARCHIVE, REX FEATURES

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and mathematicians in Kentucky. They met within three months of his arriving in New York, at a party thrown by her dealer, Paul Kasmin. For Guinness, it was a coup de foudre (Miranda Brooks remembers a lot of ‘long descriptions of her superlative breasts’), and within two years they were married, in a civil ceremony at the Carlyle Hotel attended by his mother and sisters and the couple’s close friends. If anyone thought that Puckette was the slightest bit impressed by his pedigree, they were wrong. ‘A friend of mine heard someone asking a wedding guest connected to her family, “Is Elliott intimidated to be joining the Guinness clan?”’ recalls the writer Daisy Garnett, a good friend of the couple. ‘They replied, “Oh no, the Puckettes think Elliott’s marrying down”.’ By all accounts, it is a union of proper equals. ‘It’s a brilliant marriage,’ Haslam says. ‘They both have the same quite relaxed but sharp view of life. Very high standards, in terms of the way they live.’ Wes Anderson was so enamoured of their house that he wanted to film The Royal Tenenbaums in it, but he couldn’t get the cameras inside, so he built a set replicating many of its elements. ‘I think Wes sort of fell in love, in quite a dreamy way, with Hugo and his house and the way he and Elliott live and the way they make things look,’ Garnett says. ‘Hugo’s very 21st century and oddly 19th century,’ Haslam says. ‘He has that kind of amateur-artist-colony world in him.’ People gravitate to their orbit for the food (Puckette is an exceptional cook), the conversation and the pursuit of l’art de vivre. Garnett, who calls Guinness an ‘enlivener’, says he has a great facility for friendship. ‘He’s really good friends with all his neighbours, proper good friends, not just token – the Southern priest, Bernard the junk dealer, this silver gilder who has a studio. He finds people interesting in all kinds of ways. He’s curious about people.’ For Guinness, New York has turned out to be an awfully big adventure. He returns home four times a year to see his 88-year-old mother and to catch up with friends, but he says he feels ‘like a fish out of water’ when he goes back. ‘I just feel incredibly lucky, really,’ he says about America in general, and Puckette in particular. ‘We’ve been together all that time, and we’re still very happy. It’s amazing.’ The fact is, he says, he could never have married an English girl – the millinery is too hideous: ‘I had this complete phobia of hats and wedding hats and these awful things. I thought to myself, “I just couldn’t ever do it.’” (

Guinness’s mother Pauline with her children, 1959

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Ratio of self-harmers to non-self-harmers among 15 year-olds â&#x20AC;&#x201C; 1:5

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WorldMags.net ‘It’s an addiction. You need that feeling of relief from the burning anger and pain and you feel nothing will work in the same way. I would love to stop because every time I regret it. But in the heat of the moment it’s nearly impossible to think logically. The urges are extremely powerful’ Sophia Money-Coutts investigates the self-harm epidemic sweeping Britain’s schools Photographed by SIMON VINALL

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‘I

cheap razors and a packet of plasters,’ says Olivia*. ‘And then I just had them in my backpack until a couple of days later, when I was feeling really upset. So, between lessons, I went to the bathroom and that was the first time. On my wrists and my hands.’ The 18-year-old is sitting in front of me drinking lemonade in a café on Dover Street. She has blonde curly hair pulled into a messy ponytail and is wearing a black jersey, the sleeves tugged down over her knuckles. She chats happily about having just finished her A-levels at a top London girls’ school and, once she’s got her results, applying to Cambridge – or maybe Durham – to read Classics. Olivia was diagnosed with clinical depression at 14, but has been much sunnier for the past few months for two reasons. First, she’s been prescribed Prozac and, second, she’s found a psychologist she likes, one who is helping her open up about her self-harming. Chances are that you know someone like Olivia. Your own daughter, your niece, your best friend, your son. ‘I carved the word “diet” into my thigh with a compass in the Lower Sixth,’ a 29-year-old friend told me. Another family friend, in her early 40s, remembered the time she deliberately cut her legs while shaving when she was a ‘struggling’ teenager. ‘There wasn’t the internet then and we hadn’t been told about self-harm at school, so I knew nothing about it. It was something instinctive in me. I wanted to hurt.’ Self-harm is not a new phenomenon, but it is one that’s on the rise – among both girls and boys. The NHS defines self-harm as causing intentional damage to yourself to cope with or express emotional

Olivia was one of a group of five girls at her school who were selfharming in Year 10, when they were all 14. ‘I didn’t really talk about it myself, but someone else would say, “I was in the shower last night and I just went like that...” She pushes her chair back in the café and flicks her hand up her leg to demonstrate. ‘My cuts were quite superficial, but other girls cut deeper. I remember sitting next to a friend in a Latin lesson and she was fiddling with the bandages around her wrist. And I had one friend who I sat next to in double maths, and she was so desperate to hurt herself and get rid of the pain she was feeling in her mind that she was using her compass and trying to break the skin on her wrist.’ For parents, for teachers, for anyone who hasn’t self-harmed, the instinctive response to the idea of deliberately cutting yourself is horror. For those who self-harm, it’s a coping mechanism – it’s not about intentionally causing physical pain. Rather, as Olivia says, ‘it’s a way of letting out your emotional pain’. ‘Self-harm is, in a way, a bit like in those westerns where someone is asked to bite on a bullet when they have a wound. It’s a distraction from other emotional worries,’ says Will Napier, a Harley Street psychologist who treats self-harmers aged between 15 and 25. ‘It’s an addiction,’ explains a 17-year-old boarder. ‘You get addicted to the feeling of relief from the burning anger and pain. I have tried alternatives: dunking my head in a bowl of ice, punching a pillow. But nothing seems to provide the same release. I would love to stop because, every time, I regret it. In the heat of the moment, it’s nearly impossible to think logically. The urges are extremely powerful.’ There are also strong biological processes at work. Cutting or harming yourself can release endorphins, euphoriant brain chemicals that give self-harmers instant relief from their distress. ‘It releases opium-like substances in the brain, so it gives a temporary sense of warmth and well-being that, on a very temporary basis, takes the pain away,’ explains Dr David Kingsley, head consultant child and adolescent psychiatrist at the Priory, in Roehampton, who treats increasing

distress, and last December it reported that the number of children aged 10–14 admitted to hospital in England having self-harmed was at a five-year high. A similar World Health Organization report, published last year, revealed that one in five 15-year-olds say they self-harm, which includes cutting, biting or burning themselves. In January, Richard Harman, the headmaster of Uppingham, talked of the ‘urgent need’ to provide greater mental-health support to pupils across the country, saying that they ‘are arguably under more pressure than ever before’. ‘Mental health is THE issue,’ agrees Vivienne Durham, headmistress of Francis Holland School Regent’s Park. ‘Schools and colleges are increasingly good at acknowledging and recognising the many emotional strains that young people face, but we still have a long way to go. None of us is complacent about this.’ And of all the mental-health problems worrying schools and parents – ranging from low-level anxiety to panic attacks, depression and eating disorders like anorexia and bulimia – self-harm is the one least talked about. ‘It’s almost as if it’s embarrassing to have a child who self-harms,’ says Lily, a 17-year-old pupil from a private school in north London, who is herself a recovering anorexic. ‘I don’t think people necessarily want to relate more to anorexia, yet they do. “Oh, my daughter wants to be thinner.” They get that. But with self-harmers, it’s like, “Why do they want to do that?”’

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numbers of teenage boys and girls. (The number of girls self-harming still outweighs the number of boys, in part because boys often exhibit it through punching walls or getting into fights.) Although the Priory cannot comment on it, one pupil tells me that four girls from her year were removed from school last year because of their self-harming and sat their GCSEs together while being treated at the clinic. The nature of self-harming means you often find clusters of pupils affected, and this can be one of the biggest challenges for schools. ‘Dare I say it – I think it’s become a sort of trendy thing, quite fashionable,’ says Dr Kingsley. ‘It could be something that’s going on in their friendship group, almost like, “Well, if I can’t think of something to be stressed about and to self-harm over, then I’m not really part of the group.”’ Some groups talk about it, some don’t. ‘There’s a bunch of girls at school who show off about it,’ says Lily. ‘They roll up their sleeves and show their cuts.’ That teenagers will go to such lengths shocks everyone, both parents and those in education. And stress, as Dr Kingsley mentioned, is the keyword. Stress about grades, about exams, about being thin enough, about having the right hair and having the right jeans or trainers, about getting invited to parties and having enough followers on Instagram, about their relationship with their parents, about getting into the right university and getting a job – ‘and about whether

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*SOME NAMES HAVE BEEN CHANGED

‘Self-harm is a bit like in those westerns where someone is asked to bite on a bullet when they have a wound. It’s a distraction from other emotional worries’

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Reasons for self-harm

rising temperatures and melting icebergs means there’ll even BE a planet in 100 years’ time,’ says Lily. ‘There is a level of anxiety in this generation that is greater than it ever was 20 years ago,’ says Francis Holland’s Vivienne Durham. The internet is also often blamed for fuelling teenagers’ insecurities and for making it easier for them to access disturbing websites and chatrooms. ‘Look,’ says Lily, taking out her iPhone at a Costa Coffee in Hampstead. ‘If I tap “#depressed” into Instagram, I get 11 million pictures. Eleven million!’ She scrolls through them and taps on one. It is a pair of pale forearms, with dozens of neat red lines cut horizontally across them. ‘It all starts with GCSEs, that’s when the pressure begins. And they start going on Tumblr to look at pictures, it’s like a community, really scary.’ Vivienne Durham, however, makes the point that while the internet is often vilified (‘It’s not as it was in the Sixties, when you could only compare yourself to the boy or the girl at the desk next to you. Now you can compare yourself to every boy and every girl at every desk because they’re all online’), it is also used by teenagers who might

be too confused to openly talk about their feelings. ‘It’s easy to forget that there’s a huge amount of good online.’ Schools are working hard to tackle the ever-rising stress levels. Anthony Seldon at Wellington is leading the charge, having introduced happiness’ classes at the school in 2006. Of the HMC schools (HMC tands for the Headmasters’ and Headmistresses’ Conference, and is a professional group of heads from leading schools including Eton, Radley, Downe House and St Mary’s Ascot), 45 per cent have increased their number of in-house counsellors in the past five years, while 94 per cent now run sessions for parents on ‘issues of pastoral concern’. Where it exists, discussion specifically about self-harm is most often ouched upon in PSHE (personal, social, health and economic) classes, along with other mental-health issues. But several pupils I talked to said there was little education about self-harm in particular. ‘There’s loads of stuff about eating disorders,’ says Lily, ‘It’s literally all about anorexia.’ Will Napier, meanwhile, tells me about a private-school pupil he is currently treating who tried to organise an assembly about self-harm at her London day school, but the deputy head stopped it, arguing that it would be ‘too scary’ for other pupils. ‘If one wants to be generous to the school, it might be that there were good intentions for not having that assembly,’ he says. ‘The deputy head might well have been thinking, “If we make a thing of this...” But what I do know is if, for example, you take the initiative to talk about suicide, that actually makes it less likely.’ There is certainly the need for more dialogue, more understanding and less fear. ‘There was this point where we had to do a timed essay,’ says Olivia, ‘And I was just not in a place where I should be doing work, so I put my head down on the desk and started crying. Tears were just coming out. But it wasn’t until there were only 10 minutes left that the teacher noticed me and took me out, and said, “Olivia, are you OK?” So I put my hand up over my face and I had small red lines across it. And to this day, I don’t know whether she saw and decided not to say anything. Because she didn’t mention it. But she must have seen.’ In the end, it was Olivia’s maths teacher who noticed how upset she often was in lessons and told her parents, who took her to a psychiatrist. Treatment for self-harm varies. In many cases ‘it can just be a question of somebody knowing about it, and being able to get support from family and friends to help you talk about the emotional issues that you’re worrying about,’ explains David Kingsley. ‘At the severer end, it may be that someone does need support from child mental-health services or more specialist help.’ Will Napier favours mindfulness techniques, ‘which can just be about sitting down and facing how angry you feel and letting it wave over you without necessarily acting on it. It gives people the ability to regulate their emotions. You can do some very useful work with someone in 12 sessions.’ Olivia, meanwhile, went to ‘four or five’ different doctors, since having been diagnosed with depression four years ago, before finding her current psychologist. She’s also written a letter to her head teacher to try and encourage more education about the issue. ‘It’s difficult to educate people about this because they might find it upsetting. But think about how those people who are actually doing it feel when they’re lying awake at three in the morning, alone and crying.’ (

WHAT TO DO IF YOU’RE WORRIED ABOUT YOURSELF OR SOMEONE YOU KNOW...

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Loving s u m m e r... ...so much I went out and bought a new coat. And some other things too

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THIS PAGE, WOOL JUMPER, £465; CASHMERE SKIRT, £595; FAUX-NAPPA BROGUES, £595, ALL BY STELLA MCCARTNEY. SPECTACLES, £210, BY PRADA. COTTON SOCKS, £10, BY FALKE OPPOSITE PAGE, SILK & WOOL COAT WITH INTEGRATED TOP, £3,030, BY MIU MIU. CRYSTAL EARRINGS, £507, BY AZZARO. WOOL SOCKS, £16, BY FALKE. BROGUES, AS ABOVE

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WOOL DRESS, £4,900, BY CHRISTIAN DIOR. SPECTACLES, £210; LEATHER BOOTS, £1,170, BOTH BY PRADA. LEATHER BAG, £995, BY JIMMY CHOO. SOCKS (JUST SEEN), BY BURLINGTON, AS BEFORE

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WOOL COAT, £2,200; WOOL KNIT, £460; DENIM TROUSERS, £1,900, ALL BY LOUIS VUITTON. LEATHER HEELS, £645, BY MIU MIU. COTTON SOCKS, BY FALKE, AS BEFORE

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COTTON-CREPE JACKET, £443; COTTON-CREPE SKIRT, £333, BOTH BY M MISSONI. LEATHER BOOTS, £517, BY APERLAI. SOCKS, BY FALKE, AS BEFORE

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JACKET, £1,450; WOOL POLO NECK, £310; SILK-CASHMERE TURTLENECK, £570, ALL BY LOUIS VUITTON

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LINEN SHIRT, £890; WOOL TOP, £800; WOOL TROUSERS, £725, ALL BY CELINE FOR STOCKISTS, SEE ADDRESS BOOK. HAIR BY YUMI NAKADA DINGLE, USING BUMBLE AND BUMBLE. MAKE-UP BY ATTRACTA COURTNEY, USING CHANEL S 2015 & CHANEL BODY EXCELLENCE. MODEL, NEELAM GILL AT MODELS 1. PRODUCTION, ELLE KORHALILLER. FASHION ASSISTANT, JESSICA RADCLIFFE-BROWN

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Grotto fabulous! Have you got an unused corner of garden and a few tons of precious stones and exotic shells going spare? Then you need to build yourself a lavish grotto – all the best people are. By Marcus Field

t was one of the most talked about sights in 18th-century England – a labyrinthine grotto lined with exotic shells and glistening stalactites that ran deep into the hillside at Oatlands Park, the Surrey home of the then Duke of York. This fairytale creation was two storeys high and contained a gaming den and a second-century copy of the Venus de’ Medici. When the composer Joseph Haydn visited the estate in 1791, he recorded: ‘Among its many beauties is a most remarkable grotto which cost £25,000, and which was 11 years in the building. It is very large and contains many diversions, inter alia actual water that flows in from various sides, various entrances and exits, besides a most charming bath.’ Later, in 1815, a legendary party was held in the grotto to celebrate the victory at Waterloo. It is said that four kings sat down to dine at the candlelit table. Oatlands’ grotto, now sadly demolished, was one of the most celebrated examples of an architectural novelty that flourished in the country-house parks of the Georgian era. The trend had started more than a century earlier, when designers arriving from Renaissance Italy introduced shell-encrusted rooms into the dank undercrofts of palatial homes like Woburn Abbey and Osterley Park. But it was in the 18th century that the fashion for building grottoes

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to Lord Donegall at Fisherwick Park in Staffordshire. But by the mid-19th century, the taste for these curios had waned and many fell derelict or were destroyed. Perhaps the Victorians agreed with Dr Johnson, who described one Stygian grotto as ‘a very pleasant place... for toads!’. Happily, the start of the 21st century has seen something of a revival. Not only have some of the oldest and finest grottoes been magnificently restored, but several new ones have been built. Among the most outstanding is Oberon’s Palace, a shell-lined grotto created by the garden designers Isabel and Julian Bannerman for the Duchess of Norfolk at Arundel Castle. And the writer and gardener Sir Roy Strong is putting the finishing touches to a new nympheum at the Laskett, his house and garden in Herefordshire. Perhaps the most lavish of all is the new grotto at Bonnington House, near Edinburgh, which is encrusted with 15 tons of amethysts shipped from Brazil. ‘As you look at them, you become attuned to the quality of the amethysts,’ says its owner Nicky Wilson. ‘Some are purple, some are yellow, some brown. That’s partly what grottoes are about – for showing off beautiful things.’ Just as at Oatlands 200 years ago, Oatlands these grottoes are still used for parties, Park’s grotto, and several are licensed as wedding demolished venues. But most of all, they remain in 1948 an enduring testament to the human appetite for fantasy and fun.

really took off. Leading the way were young aristocrats like Viscount Cobham, who in 1730 commissioned William Kent to design a grotto at Stowe, complete with a statue of Venus. Or literary stars like Alexander Pope, whose grotto at Twickenham featured rare stones and costly mirrors, as well as a tinkling spring. ‘Were it to have nymphs as well it would be complete in everything,’ he wrote. Soon grotto building became a competitive sport. ‘Mine’s prettier than Mr Pope’s,’ wrote Lady Hertford in 1736 of her Wiltshire cave. And the importing of exotic shells intensified: in 1739, HMS Diamond is reported to have docked with a cargo of shells ordered by the Dukes of Richmond and Bedford – destined for their magnificent grottoes at Goodwood and Woburn respectively. And 50 years later, £10,000 of shells were delivered

Photographed by MARK COCKSEDGE WorldMags.net

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THE DUCHESS OF BEDFORD

STYLED BY XUXA MILROSE

Woburn Abbey, Bedfordshire Louise Russell, the Duchess of Bedford, right, is very fortunate in having two of Englandâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s most beautiful and historic grottoes at Woburn Abbey, the 13,000-acre estate where she lives with her husband, Andrew, the 15th Duke of Bedford, and their two children, Lady Alexandra Russell, 14, and Henry, Marquess of Tavistock, 10. The oldest grotto is a rare early example built between the late 1620s and 1641, when the 4th Earl of Bedford added a new north wing to the abbey. It is unusual, being a room in the house rather than a garden building, and the designer is thought to have been Isaac de Caus, a French Huguenot who decorated ]

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[the interior in the manner of a fabulous undersea cavern, complete with shellwork putti riding dolphins and classical figures reclining on giant scallops. ‘I think it’s the most magical room in the abbey,’ says Louise, who once held her birthday dinner here. ‘There are no electric lights and, when you’ve got all the candles lit, the shells really sparkle.’ The duchess, who was a stepsister to the late Isabella Blow (her mother, Rona, married Blow’s father, Sir Evelyn Delves Broughton, in 1974), divides her time working for charities and on the estate, where she plays a lead role in the management and marketing of its key activities, including the public opening of the abbey, safari park, hotel and golf course. She takes a particular interest in the gardens and has recently overseen the reinstatement of the Renaissance planting scheme just beyond the 17th-century grotto. Louise’s current project is the restoration of the early-19th-century landscape designed for the 6th Duke of Bedford by Humphry Repton. This 40-acre garden includes a romantic grotto designed by Jeffry Wyatt, a sister building to the grotto at Endsleigh constructed from the same Devon stone and encrusted with shells, fool’s gold and other geological specimens. ‘You could have a wonderful dinner in here,’ she says, eyeing up Wyatt’s glittering ceiling and practical built-in seats. A future birthday-party venue surely beckons. The shell room is part of the public tour at Woburn Abbey, and the 19th-century grotto can be seen from the outside; visit woburnabbey.co.uk for details.

Opposite page, Olga Polizzi inside the grotto at Endsleigh, above

OLGA POLIZZI Endsleigh, Devon When Olga Polizzi first set eyes on Endsleigh, it was a freezing cold day in 2003 and the house was a damp and decaying wreck. ‘I knew we shouldn’t buy it really, but it’s a rather magical place – it casts a spell,’ recalls the hotelier, who is the sister of Rocco Forte and wife of biographer William Shawcross. And who wouldn’t fall in love with Endsleigh? This dreamy cottage orné on the banks of the Tamar in Devon was designed in 1810 by Jeffry Wyatt as a holiday home for Georgiana, Duchess of Bedford, and is one of the most perfect examples of the picturesque style ever built. Humphry Repton laid out the grounds – complete with Wyatt’s enchanting shell-lined grotto – and described its wooded setting as ‘embossed in all the sublimity of umbrageous majesty’. Having acquired the house, which still contained furnishings and objects that once belonged to Georgiana, Olga set about

The grotto at Woburn

restoring it and turning it into a hotel. ‘We redid everything – bedrooms, bathrooms, windows – but it’s Grade I-listed, so it all had to look exactly as it had done before’. Outside, much of Repton’s romantic landscape remains, with its formal gardens leading to an artfully staged wilderness of rocky crags, waterfalls and forest. On the cusp of the two is the grotto, a small building of moss-covered stone, entered by a door of leaded glass and rustic timbers. Inside, the walls are as thickly encrusted with shells and minerals as a tropical reef, and a small pool of water bubbles with a delicate tinkle, which turns into a whoosh as it cascades away beneath the floor. Repton and Wyatt intended the grotto as a shady retreat on a warm summer’s day, and Olga says she takes great pleasure in enjoying it just as they planned. ‘There are marvellous views from here,’ she says, ‘especially when the mist comes up in the mornings. I don’t think there are many places like it left in England, with no interference from modern life at all.’ Endsleigh’s grotto is licensed for weddings; see hotelendsleigh.com. ]

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STYLED BY SOPHIE GOODWIN. HAIR & MAKE-UP BY HILA KARMAND

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The walls are as thickly encrusted with shells as a tropical reef WorldMags.net

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WorldMags.net Far left, the central chamber of the grotto at St Giles House. Left, its exterior. Below, Lord and Lady Shaftesbury inside the grotto

THE EARL AND COUNTESS OF SHAFTESBURY St Giles House, Dorset ‘I remember seeing it for the first time when I was a child,’ says Nick Ashley-Cooper, the 12th Earl of Shaftesbury, referring to the remarkable 18th-century grotto that sits in the park of his family seat, St Giles House, in Dorset. ‘It was derelict but we used to sneak in. There’s something very magical about a place that’s been frozen in time and forgotten.’ St Giles, a romantic 17th-century house, was a decaying shell for the whole of Nick’s childhood. Only after he succeeded to the title in 2005, at 25, did work begin to restore the building and turn it back into a family home. The earl – who used to be a techno DJ in New York – now lives there with his wife, Dinah, a vet, and their three young children. As we walk across the park to see the grotto, Nick tells me the story of its restoration. ‘When I came back to live here, there were trees growing out of the walls and part of it had collapsed. Inside you could see shells on the ceiling, but just as many were on the floor. We had to treat it like an archaeological site and collect everything up square by square and catalogue what had fallen where.’ Records in the family archive show that the grotto at St Giles was built around 1750 for the 4th countess, who sought advice on the design and supply of shells from the gothic novelist William Beckford. It is a handsome example of the picturesque style: a rustic stone building with three arched entrances, two curved wings and a large central chamber built over a source of the River Allen. The restoration has recently been completed with the help of a grant from Natural England, and once again every inch of the grotto’s walls and ceiling is thick with shells; barnaclecovered branches twist across the windows as if the whole thing has just risen from the sea. ‘People are speechless when they come in,’ says Nick. ‘It looks amazing, but for me it’s still that magical place I discovered as a child.’ St Giles House and grotto are available for events and weddings; see shaftesburyestates.com.

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NICKY WEARS LINEN SHIRT, £99, BY JAEGER. ALL OTHER CLOTHES HER OWN. ROBERT & ALL OTHER GROTTO OWNERS’ CLOTHES, THEIR OWN. HAIR & MAKE-UP BY EMMA REGAN. STYLED BY XUXA MILROSE

Nicky and Robert Wilson in The Light Pours out of Me, their underground grotto at Bonnington House. Right, its roof

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small, roofless room 18 feet below ground. ‘It’s completely lined with amethysts, so it’s a grotto in the true sense that it’s a cave that’s been embellished,’ says Nicky. ‘It’s artificial and whimsical but very deliberately placed. Anya found a ley line and investigated the landscape as deeply as any Victorian grotto-maker might have done. She looked at the history of garden design and all that fed into her thinking.’ The Wilsons open their park – named Jupiter Artland – to the public during the summer

The grotto is surrounded by a gilded barbed wire fence NICKY AND ROBERT WILSON Bonnington House, West Lothian ‘Grottoes are eccentric. They have a hedonistic side, which is why I love them,’ says Nicky Wilson, the owner of Bonnington House, near Edinburgh, where a modern take on the grotto has been built by the artist Anya Gallaccio. Nicky and her husband, Robert, chairman of the homeopathic remedy company Nelsons,

bought the crumbling Jacobean-style house in 1999 and began turning its park into a setting for contemporary artworks. ‘All the works here are commissioned to respond directly to the landscape. For hers, Anya chose this magical spot in the wilderness,’ explains Nicky. ‘She wanted to dig down and create this underground room.’ Gallaccio’s grotto, which bears the title The Light Pours out of Me, is surrounded by a copse of young trees and a gilded barbed wire fence. A flash of purple stone lures you down a set of long shallow steps until you find yourself in a

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months, when visitors can experience the grotto glittering in the sunlight. But for the rest of the year, it’s a private paradise for the couple, their four children and their friends. ‘This has always been a party house – it was built as a hunting lodge – so we have lots of people to stay and we always take them to visit the grotto,’ says Nicky. ‘We don’t drink or party in it – we just go down into it, which is a bit like being baptised. There’s an element of ceremony and wonder.’ Jupiter Artland at Bonnington House is open until 27 September; see jupiterartland.org. (

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FRANCES ERSKINE WEARS COTTON DRESS, £595, BY TEMPERLEY LONDON. SHOES & JEWELLERY, HER OWN. STRUAN ERSKINE WEARS COTTON SHIRT, £125, BY POLO RALPH LAUREN, AT HARVEY NICHOLS. TROUSERS & SHOES, HIS OWN. HAIR & MAKEUP BY NEUSA NEVES USING BECCA, DERMALOGICA AND KIEHL’S SINCE 1851. STYLED BY SOPHIE GOODWIN

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Home Photographed by JAMES MERRELL

The Erskines know how to party, and they are on a mission to make their ancestral seat, Cambo, the most fun stately in Scotland. By Matthew Bell

JOY RIDE

FRANCES & STRUAN ERSKINE IN FRONT OF CAMBO, IN FIFE

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lenty of houses are good for parties, but few have their destiny shaped by them. Cambo is a vast chunk of Victoriana on the east coast of Scotland, which wouldn’t look like it does were it not for a particularly wild night back in the 1870s. The master was away and the servants were making whoopee. When someone went to the cellar to get more wine, they left a candle burning, which started a fire. The butler sent the footman to St Andrews to fetch the engine, but the horse that normally pulled it was in foal, so by the time they found another, the house was but a pile of ash. Still, that hasn’t put the Erskines off raving. Quite the opposite. They simply rebuilt Cambo (the architect was

told to make it bigger than any house in Fife) and today it can sleep up to 40. ‘It’s an amazing place for a party,’ says Struan Erskine, 38, its latest guardian. ‘It really comes alive when full.’ There have been Erskines at Cambo for over 300 years, apart from a brief stint in the 1750s, when they sold it to the Earl of Wemyss as a house for his son, who was studying at St Andrews. The Erskines soon bought it back, and earlier this year Struan and his wife, Frances, 30, took over from his parents, Sir Peter and Lady Erskine, who have retired to a farmhouse on the estate. Struan and Frances live in a series of rooms on the ground floor, looking south over an immaculate lawn. One can’t help but notice the small grey robot zigzagging across the grass, like a pool-cleaner out of water. ‘Oh, that’s Robo-Jimmy,’ says Struan. ‘He’s an automatic grasscutter. We’ve had him two years and he’s brilliant. He even puts himself to bed when the batteries run low.’ Previous generations of Erskines were also keen on gadgets. The ground-floor smoking room has ventilated coving, so the smoke was piped out: ‘It’s blocked up now, but it must have been quite cold in the winter.’ The main rooms are on the first floor, up a splendid sweeping staircase. Though the house is not open to the public, they do take paying guests on a B&B basis, who are served breakfast in the vast dining room. The drawing room next door is the real showstopper, lined with 17th-century tapestries and family portraits and ] THE 2.5-ACRE WALLED VICTORIAN GARDEN

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FRANCES IN HER STUDIO. OPPOSITE PAGE, THE DRAWING ROOM

WEARS SILK SHIRT, £230, BY EQUIPMENT. TROUSERS & RY, HER OWN. FOR STOCKISTS, SEE ADDRESS BOOK

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A CORRIDOR OUTSIDE THE SITTING ROOM

[managing to be at once formal yet comfortable. A giant organ used to take up one end, and its working parts occupied an entire downstairs room; thankfully, it was quietly dismantled and donated to the local church a couple of generations ago. Minor staircases and corridors go off in every direction, and the house is well equipped with signs and arrows telling you if you’re in the East Wing or Servants’ Wing, and how to get out if you need to. This wasn’t an option available to one 19thcentury ancestor, who suffered from acute postnatal depression after giving birth. A special tower was built at one end of the house, where she was locked up for the rest of her life in solitary confinement, Mrs Rochesterstyle. Her children were told she was dead. It’s hard to imagine the Erskines being quite so strict, given how charming and cheerful the young The Erskines are generation are. Struan is creating a woodland the eldest of four, and always knew he would dance space, inherit one day. As a with lasers and yurts result, he spent most of his 20s snowboarding and backpacking round Asia. Not so Frances, who grew up in more modest circumstances in Elie, a small seaside town down the road, but knew nothing about Cambo. ‘I thought he was joking when he first brought me here,’ she recalls. ‘I was, like, “Yeah, right.”’ They met in Edinburgh – at a party, of course – where Frances was studying at the College of Art and Struan was a tree surgeon. It was fancy dress, as was a second party they both attended. It wasn’t until their third meeting that they were in normal clothes. ‘And I didn’t recognise him,’ says Frances. They spent a few months travelling across India on a Royal Enfield motorbike and got engaged in Udaipur. Back in Scotland, Struan got a job lopping trees for Edinburgh Council, while Frances worked in shoot production for Location Scotland. They started to get more involved in the estate in 2010, but actually living on site is quite a different matter. Was Frances daunted by it

THE BATH IN THE YELLOW ROOM

Hom e

all? ‘Oh yes, hugely. It’s a bit of a weird conversation to have when you first start dating somebody. Struan grew up here, so he always knew this was going to happen, but I didn’t get it.’ She does now, and is wholly involved in running the house. Struan’s parents spent 40 years diversifying Cambo and its 1,200 acres: they restored the two-anda-half-acre walled garden and converted a stable block into a social-enterprise hub, where old-fashioned rural skills like tree-felling and stonemasonry are taught. ‘Estates like Cambo used to be heavily staffed and were effectively huge training centres for the rural community,’ says Struan. ‘So that’s what we’re trying to recreate. There’s a great debate in Scotland about land ownership, but I think Scotland is beautiful because so much land is in private hands. People care for and improve their land whether they can afford to or not.’ One of Lady Erskine’s major legacies has been snowdrops, which she is mad about and has planted in their thousands – Cambo is home to over 350 varieties spread over 70 acres. They have become a major tourist attraction, drawing thousands of visitors every February and March. Also hugely successful is the golf course, Kingsbarns Links, which opened 15 years ago and is considered one of the top 20 in the world. Which makes sense when you see its location on the edge of the estate, overlooking an extraordinarily beautiful beach. Struan and Frances plan to take the house in a different direction now, focusing instead on making Cambo the ultimate weekend party venue. There’s a biannual beer festival, Cambolicious – one of this year’s events featured axe-throwing. And Struan and Frances are creating a woodland dance space with lasers, and yurts for glamping. As there are no neighbours for miles around, it’s ideal for late-night raves. ‘We want the young crowd to be able to go off and have as much fun as they possibly can,’ says Frances. ‘The way we see this place is that it was built for entertaining, so that’s what we really want to bring it back to. For people to come and take over and enjoy.’ But not, preferably, to burn down. ( See camboestate.com for accommodation details.

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SOME LIK E IT

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Be au t y

Welcome to our shiny, golden tanning spectacular. We will begin with the scary science bit, but it will get more fun after that. There is even a thermometer up a bottom...

e know what to expect if we sunbathe too much. Wrinkles, age spots, cancer. We know all about the importance of suncream. About using a higher factor on the bits that get daily exposure (like our face, chest and hands). About regular top-ups (especially after we’ve had a dunk in the sea or got a bit sweaty). We know that we shouldn’t really be in the sun AT ALL – but that’s boring, so we’ll stick to a few hours, and we’ll head inside at lunchtime. (See? We’re sensible like that.) But something happens when we’re faced with a cloudy day. Fear sets in. Fear that we won’t return home all glowy and radiant, but pasty and looking like we never went away in the first place. At this moment, safe practice flies out of the window. Frying ourselves with little in the way of sunscreen suddenly seems like the only option. Skin tans in two phases: ‘immediate tanning’ (caused by UVA rays and occurring shortly after sun

FOR SPORTY TYPES

exposure), which results in immediate pigment darkening and constitutes your skin’s natural attempt to protect itself. (It’s a futile endeavour, though, because tanned skin has a natural SPF of 1.) ‘Delayed tanning’ (a result of UVB rays, which cause increased melanin production) sets in about 72 hours later and gives a tan that lasts for several weeks. If you do want to lie out in the sun, a proper application of SPF is crucial. ‘Most of us apply our sunscreen so badly that we put on a quarter of the amount that we need to achieve the SPF on the bottle,’ says Cadogan Clinic consultant dermatologist Dr Susan Mayou. ‘You ought to be applying 2ml of suncream per square centimetre of skin – about half a teaspoon for the face, a tablespoon for the trunk and a dessert spoon for each arm. You’re looking at around 35ml for a single application of suncream to an 11-stone adult.’ So if you’re returning home with half-full bottles, chances are you haven’t used nearly enough. FW

F E S T I VA L F R Y-U P Hugo Rifkind on an unfortunate incident involving sunglasses at Glastonbury

FOR SENSITIVE SKINS Jurlique Sun Specialist SPF 40, £27

WAT E R PROOF Shiseido Expert Sun SPF 50+, £30

H A N DY S P R AY Sisley Milky Body Mist SPF 30, £83

HE AVY-DUT Y AF TER-SUN Vichy Idéal Soleil After Sun, £11.50

he best sunburn I ever saw was at Glastonbury in the late Nineties. I forget which year, but it was the one when everybody wore sunglasses on their heads and those sunglasses were always Oakleys. Remember? Anyway, there was this guy, and it was day three, and he was wearing Oakleys on his face, even though it wasn’t very sunny. And on his big, bald, brown head there was an angry red Oakley imprint. I stared at him for ages and couldn’t for the life of me figure out how it had come about. So I had to ask. He didn’t mind. It had been quite sunny on day one, he said, but he’d kept his sunglasses up high, like you were meant to. By day two, though, this meant he’d tanned his whole head except for the Oakley strip, which was white as cheese. So on day two he’d put sunblock all over his head – except for that strip – to even it up. But day two was much sunnier, so the strip had burnt red as Santa. And now he felt a damn fool. ‘Why not,’ I said, ‘cover the red bit with your Oakleys? Which are, of course, exactly the right shape?’ ‘Tried that,’ he said. ‘Hurts. Sunburn.’ So instead he’d now covered only the Oakley shape with sunblock, and was hoping the rest of his head would burn to match it. Except it wasn’t very sunny, and he was forlorn. (I do love the conversations you have at Glastonbury.) Me, I burn a lot. My own worst sunburn was probably on a beach in Cape Town. You know that trick where you put low-factor cream on the bits that don’t burn much and higher-factor cream on the bits that do? I did that but forgot about the second bit. Thus, I burned only my forearms and the front of my neck. I looked part lobster, part vicar. Lobster vicar. Vicar lobster. Strong. ]

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WorldMags.net FOR BAKING IN THE BAHAMAS

HAIR & B O DY Institut Esthederm Sun Care Oil, £42.50

Vaseline is good for so many things – just not sun protection, discovers Clare Bennett

FOR A BRITISH OUTING

FOR KIDS La RochePosay Anthelios SPF 50+, £11

NONSTICK Natura Bissé C+C Dry Oil SPF 30, £50

PROTECTION IN TOWN Dior City Defense SPF 50, £41

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hen I was a teenager, I thought the fastest way to tan was to basically get burnt and then let it turn brown. I can only blame an unfair genetic mutation for the fact that all four of my siblings turned a luscious honey colour within about 24 hours of exposure to the sun, while I just went vaguely pink. Tanning with suncream took too long. And I didn’t have the patience for it. After GCSEs, we went on a school trip to Brighton. I went on one of those rides where you sit on a boat and it swings around at 180 degrees and you genuinely think you’re going to die and you roar with real fear all the way through, hating every second. Perhaps this trauma temporarily suspended my ability to make rational decisions, because, when we ended up on the beach, someone gave me a pot of Vaseline, suggesting I put it on my legs and face to ‘help me tan quicker’. ‘Thanks!’ I said as I picked candyfloss out of my train tracks. I rolled up my trousers and rubbed the Vaseline onto my shins before taking off what were probably the mirrored sunglasses I was devoted to (stop – they were cool in the Nineties) and greasing up my face. I lay back – and effectively cooked myself like a piece of bacon for a couple of hours. The next day, I woke up with an aubergine for a face, including a curious swelling in the middle of my forehead. I remember standing in the loos at school, panicking that I had somehow burnt my brain and caused it to swell, and insisting that my friend Victoria give me her baseball cap (also cool in the Nineties). She still takes the piss out of me for it – but frying your own head probably merits that.

ADDED SHIMMER Piz Buin Instant Glow Sun Spray SPF 30, £16.99

P O S TF RY Organic Pharmacy After Sun, £36.95

BUR N A F TE R R E A DI NG Emma Kennedy on the ultimate beach humiliation

t was 1979 and, as a family, we’d finally made it to the South of France. I was utterly determined to get a suntan and, because suncream was, at best, a myth, I lay in a scorching 90-degree heat with nothing to protect me but a flimsy bikini. Eight hours later, burnt to within an inch of my life, I was delirious and hallucinating. My mother, realising something drastic was required, put me in the shade of our tent on a borrowed camp bed and promptly set about finding help. She returned with a ruddy-faced Dutch woman who happily declared to the small crowd of holidaymakers now gathered round me that back in Holland she was a nurse. My mother, beside herself with gratitude, stood back to let the woman tend to me. Without a hello or a handshake, she flipped me onto my belly, pulled down my bikini bottoms and shoved a thermometer up my lady’s excuse-me. I heard a gasp, probably from my mother, and a small, polite cough from who knows where. After an interminable length of time, the thermometer was pulled out and examined. ‘Yes,’ declared the woman. ‘She’s hot!’ And that was it. That was her grand revelation. Thanks a lot. Someone, towards the back, applauded. I’ve never sunbathed without cream on since. (

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PHOTOGRAPHS: © NORMAN PARKINSON LTD/COURTESY NORMAN PARKINSON ARCHIVE

NOT SO SL ICK

FOR YO U R FAC E Chanel La Protection UV SPF 50, £80

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WorldMags.net Tallulah Harlec

The model and actress on Janis Joplin, baths, boots and sexy-time Sundays. By Katie Thomas Perfect present

The best present I ever received was a pair of Prada boots from my mother last Christmas.

I love exercise – I aim to do four classes a week at Psycle, Triyoga or Ten Pilates.

Going vegan is the best decision I’ve ever made. Spaghetti al pomodoro is my favourite dish.

Gabriella Wilde

My role model changes weekly, depending on my mood. Currently, I really want to kiss Gabriella Wilde’s face and stroke her hair. So for now it will be her.

I love the Jo Malone ‘Just Because’ campaign because giving presents is so important. Everyone likes to receive something, particularly if it’s unexpected – ‘Just because I’m obsessed with your Nike trainers,’ or ‘Just because you told me a hilarious joke yesterday.’

2ND MV Organic Pure Jojoba Oil HYDRO HEAVEN

3RD SkinCeuticals Ultra Facial Defense SPF 50

MAKEUP BAG PERFECTION

PURIST VS TOURIST SHA WELLNESS, ALICANTE

They’re serious here about whipping you into shape. Which means a macrobiotic diet and heart-rate-raising coastal walks before breakfast. But there’s respite in the hydrotherapy suite: a circuit of pools for wallowing in or being buffeted about by jets, as well as cedar-lined saunas and steamy Turkish baths. The Hydroenergetic Detox Cure (potent essential oils, a gooey seaweed wrap and a bracing hosedown) will leave you humming with vitality. And marvelling at the firmness of your thighs. Healing Holidays (healingholidays.co.uk) offers seven nights from £2,595 a person, including flights, full board, medical consultation and treatments (shawellnessclinic.com).

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Dior mascara

Kevyn Aucoin palette

My beauty re ime 1ST MV Organic Gentle Cream Cleanser

Chanel Perfection Lumière Velvet foundation

TH E MULIA , BALI

This is how you hydro: sipping a lemongrass shot while water cascades into hot and cold pools in a frangipaniframed courtyard. Booking a treatment and getting not one but TWO rooms in your very own ‘wellness suite’, with a sauna and scented steam room (peppermint to rev up, mango to chill out). Rolling into the ice rooms – the only ones in the Pacific – to find yourself in a deliciously cold white cube, lit by chakra-enhancing lights, where a fountain spits out ice so pure you can drink it. Or squeal as you slap it on your skin. Why not? The Mulia offers accommodation from £475 a person a night, including breakfast and afternoon tea (themulia.com).

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PHOTOGRAPHS: REX FEATURES, SHUTTERSTOCK, TALLULAH HARLECH. GENTLE CREAM CLEANSER, £34.50; PURE JOJOBA, £28, BOTH BY MV ORGANIC SKINCARE, AT CULT BEAUTY. ULTRA FACIAL DEFENSE SPF 50, £35, BY SKINCEUTICALS. PERFECTION LUMIERE VELVET FOUNDATION, £33, BY CHANEL. DIORSHOW MASCARA, £24.50, BY DIOR. CANDLELIGHT AND SCULPTING CREAMY GLOW DUO, £22.50, BY KEVYN AUCOIN. PURIST VS TOURIST BY FRANCESCA WHITE & GABRIELLA LE BRETON

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Receive two FREE make-up products from Pixi, RRP £26.50 Subscribe and receive a set of two Pixi products. A super-nourishing, lip-staining balm that keeps lips in optimum condition while giving them lush colour. Packed with lip-loving ingredients, this glossy gel balm protects & hydrates lips instantly. Line and deﬁne eyes instantly with this genius wand containing eye shadow, eye liner and a smudger. The liner glides on smoothly, the eye shadow is dabbed on top to soften the line, and it’s all blended together with the precision smudger for a soft and smoky look. For further information visit pixibeauty.co.uk

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WorldMags.net Beauty f lash

SHORE THING Release your inner mermaid. By Francesca White TOM FORD

SACHA JUAN

Lip Color Sheer in Skinny Dip, £37 They say ‘A lustrous sheen to complement bronzed skin.’ We say Because proper lipstick would be a bit much on the beach. But this nudey-bronze balm will do nicely.

Sachajuan Ocean Mist, £18 They say ‘Delivers matte texture, grip and volume.’ We say It’s not easy getting a comb through your hair while you’re perched on a rock. But this spray is excellent at keeping slippery styles like plaits and twists looking tidy.

CHANEL Le Vernis in Méditerranée, £18 They say ‘A pure ocean blue.’ We say There are rules about blue polish. It should be a flattering shade of teal. It is only to be worn on toes. With a tan. And it should be by Chanel. Like this one.

MERMAID Perfume No. 1, £36 They say ‘Mysterious, romantic and ethereal.’ We say And gorgeously summery to boot – a bit salty, a bit suncreamy. Exactly how mermaids should smell.

GUERLAIN

DIOR Diorskin Nude BB Crème SPF 10, £30 They say ‘Astoundingly natural.’ We say Because how else would you want skin to look when you’re frolicking on the beach? It’s lighter than most BB creams, and there’s an SPF in there too. Lovely.

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CLARINS

ELIZABETH ARDEN

After Sun Shimmer Oil, £32 They say ‘To illuminate skin and enhance a tan.’ We say It’s also good run through hair post-swim, making it all gold-flecked and well-behaved.

Cream Eye Shadow Stylo in Fresh Water Pearl, £19 They say ‘Lights up the eyes with a touch of opalescence.’ We say Dot this pretty, shell-pink cream in the inner corners of your eyes. See – doesn’t that look better?

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STILL-LIFES: JODY TODD

My Terracotta, £37.50 They say ‘The legendary sun powder now has a matching silicone case.’ We say So now there’s no risk of it falling on the shingle and smashing. It also makes your bronzer pleasingly waterproof. You know, just in case.

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TATLER • PROMOTION

‘Injecting Botox along the neck and jawline will stop the muscle movement that pulls cheeks down. When it’s done right, you look much younger’

According to Dr Michael Prager – one of the most experienced practitioners in the cosmetic surgery industry – Botox remains the gold standard when it comes to skin rejuvenation treatments. Face shaping and lifting in particular are still best achieved with a simple injection performed by an expert cosmetic specialist. Even as new professional and topical antiageing treatments come onto the market, Botox and fillers are still going strong. Their popularity endures because they get results, swiftly restoring facial volume and structure. Practitioners in the know are using Botox to contour the visage by injecting it into the lower face and neck muscles, which relaxes a tense jawline and emphasises cheekbones. London-based Dr Michael Prager is anti ‘big pillow-cheeks and expressionless faces’ and a specialist when it comes to using Botox in the lower half of the face. Sagging in this area can age the face more than any forehead wrinkle. ‘Injecting Botox along the neck and the jawline will reduce the muscle movement that pulls cheeks down,’ he explains. ‘When it’s done right, you look much younger.’ Pay a visit to Dr Prager to target fine lines, wrinkles and reduced elasticity. It’s time to upgrade your skin.

To book an appointment at Dr Prager’s London clinic (25 Wimpole Street, W1G 8GL), call 020 7323 3660 or visit drmichaelprager.com

Gold

STANDARD Tried, tested and transformative, Botox is the ultimate in facial rejuvenation. Meet Dr Prager – the man with the Midas touch

RED CARPET FACIAL Sometimes the best defence is a good offence. Just ask Dr Michael Prager, who specialises in discreet and effective treatments that leave you with supermodel-like skin. Next time you’re in London, make room in your schedule for a renowned Red Carpet facial.

WHAT IS IT? A combination of chemical peels, mesotherapy (the process of massaging vitamins and hyaluronic acid into the skin with an electronic device) and microderm rolling. Microderm rolling or needling involves a spiked ball rolled across the face, creating numerous tiny columns in the skin that cause it to form collagen. It is said to improve anything from wrinkles to stretch marks. Wow. WHAT DOES IT FEEL LIKE? A little uncomfortable but this is easily offset by the facial massage that follows, which also boosts collagen. AND RECOVERY? Redness for one to two hours – but nothing that can’t be hidden with make-up. HOW WILL I LOOK? Incredible. His patients from overseas, even when jet-lagged and exhausted, are regularly stopped at customs on their way home and questioned by the immigration officer who refuses to believe the age on their passports.

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Son Julia, Spain

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PHOTOGRAPH: PORTO MONTENEGRO

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PARTY PARADISE

Ten years ago, there were just a few lonely submarines bobbing around in Montenegroâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s breathtaking bay, but today the turquoise sea is heaving with superyachts, billionaires and funsters. Matthew Bell dives in WorldMags.net

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A PARTY BENEATH ‘PATRICK’S CRANE’, THE DISUSED NAVAL CRANE AT PORTO MONTENEGRO

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PETER MUNK, OLEG DERIPASKA, NAT ROTHSCHILD, KING LERUO MOLOTLEGI & HANNAH ROTHSCHILD AT NAT’S 40TH-BIRTHDAY PARTY IN PORTO MONTENEGRO, 2011

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PHOTOGRAPHS: PORTO MONTENEGRO, JIMMY DE PARIS, CAMERA PRESS, AMBER GUINNESS

he scene is a crag on the Adriatic coast where the tiny church of Our Lady of the Angels overlooks the water. Five suntanned partyheads stand on a rock, at the dawn of another perfect summer day. They have been out all night, flitting from restaurant to bar, bar to club, club to superyacht, ending up tumbling into a speedboat and zooming out into the bay. One by one, they dive 20 feet into the water. The last to jump, a 29-year-old Swiss-Briton nicknamed ‘the Playboy of Porto’, tugs off his boxers just in time for a vast cruise ship to nose into view, a few yards away. ‘Welcome to Montenegroooo!’ he yells, hurling himself naked into the water. ‘Thank you!’ echoes the reply. ‘That summer was sick,’ recalls Ben Caruso, one of the gang, who is now speeding us through the bay on his £100,000 launch. Ben, 27, is the go-to man if you’re looking for a boat around here. Last year he set up Max Yachting with his business partner Max Bulley, and his visible success – preppy clothes, expensive shades, perfect tan – tell you that Montenegro is booming. ‘This place has got it all,’ he sighs. ‘Beautiful

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women, big boats and cheap drinks.’ The world according to Ben is full of optimism and fun – ‘I have a tattoo on my back that says “yes”’ – which makes him a good fit for the new Montenegro. This teeny-tiny country, smaller than Yorkshire, is undergoing the most epic reinvention. Ten years ago, boat life on the Adriatic was all about Upper Dalmatia: Split, Dubrovnik, and Croatia’s hundreds of rocky islands. Now the party has headed south, where the landscape is even more dramatic. Lord Byron called it ‘the most beautiful encounter between land and sea’, and all around us vast mountains plunge straight down into the water. Until recently, though, nobody came here as a tourist. When Peter Munk, the Canadian billionaire and founder of the world’s largest gold-mining company, was invited to take a helicopter out over Montenegro in 2004, he didn’t even know where it was. ‘I thought it was in Italy,’ he later admitted. But he took the ride, invited by Prime Minister Milo Djukanovic to inspect its 180-mile coast. And he liked what he saw. Because what he saw was an opportunity. Here was a country of extraordinary beauty with one of the biggest natural harbours in Europe. The Bay of Kotor, a mushroom-shaped inlet off the Adriatic, had for years been known in naval circles as a good place to park your submarine. It is sheltered, calm and dead convenient. Munk realised it would make the perfect base for the world’s growing superyacht fraternity. So he snapped up a 60-acre naval facility at Tivat for £17m and set about creating Porto Montenegro. Nat and Jacob Rothschild, whose villa on Corfu is just a short yacht-chug away, came aboard as co-investors, as did Bernard Arnault, chairman and CEO of the luxury-goods conglomerate LVMH. In 2007, they commissioned British architects Reardon Smith (full disclosure: partner Patrick Reardon is the father of Tatler editor Kate) to build a shiny new town along the water, featuring shops, restaurants, apartments and a spiffy marina with berths for up to 850 yachts. The jewel at its heart is a five-star hotel, the Regent, known as ‘the biggest yacht in the marina’. The hotel had to be the last word in glamour, so they hired Tino Zervudachi to do the interiors and the artist Lindy Guinness to paint a picture for each room. Garrett Moore, London’s ]

‘Welcome to Montenegroooo!’ the ‘Playboy of Porto’ yells, hurling himself naked into the water

THE 15TH-CENTURY CHURCH OF NOTRE DAME DU ROCHER IN THE BAY OF KOTOR

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[impeccably connected, cool consultant from 5 Hertford Street, was brought in to create a Loulou’s-style nightclub, Scaramanga. So far, £260m has been poured into Porto Montenegro, and the project isn’t even finished. Building on a whole new block of residences will begin this winter, and the 200-foot infinity-pool complex, where Nat Rothschild held his 40th-birthday party, is currently being completely rebuilt. Across the water, negotiations are under way to buy up a working shipyard so that yacht owners can leave their boats here over the winter for maintenance and repairs. What’s extraordinary is how Munk’s vision has prompted almost every other forward-looking millionaire to pile in too. They can’t hose money into Montenegro fast enough. Sol Kerzner, the South African megafinancier, was bowled over by Montenegro when he visited, and decided to launch Europe’s first One&Only property here. Although he’s no longer involved, the hotel will open in 2017 on a promontory near the Croatian border, funded by the State Oil Company of the Azerbaijan Republic, which has pledged to invest £185m. And there’s Lustica Bay, a project featuring seven hotels, 500 villas and 1,000 apartments, funded with a £724m investment from Egyptian mobile-phone firm Orascom. Already up and running is Sveti Stefan, an Aman resort occupying a former royal villa and an entire island village, and across the bay is Dukley Gardens, a Russian-oriented resort that has plans to triple in size by 2017. There are rumours that the Four Seasons group is also looking for a site. Montenegro has a population of 620,000, which is less than half that of Hampshire. Its topography is so up-and-down that if you ironed it out, it would, it has been said, be the size of Russia. This is probably not true, but it does look a bit like Norway, all fjords and icy peaks. People say it’s the new Monte Carlo, and one can imagine that the Côte d’Azur must have been a bit like this in the Fifties, before mass tourism took off; there’s glamour and money, but also old-school charm – little local restaurants serving delicious fish and wine. ‘It’s actually even more elitist than the South of France,’ says Garrett Moore. We spend a day zipping about the bay on Ben’s launch, and the sense of freedom is tremendous. He lets me take the wheel, and for a moment I’m Cary Grant in To Catch a Thief. The glamour is irresistible. ‘It’s a lifestyle you would pay for if you were super-rich,’ says Ben as we sip chardonnay at Stari Mlini, a waterfront restaurant where they breed their own trout. ‘People say it’s the new Monaco but it’s not really, because it still feels a bit Eastern European and a bit different, and that’s how it should stay. People come to Montenegro because they want to have a good time. It’s got that Ibiza/Mykonos no-consequences vibe, where anything can happen, and what you do will stay in Montenegro.’

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THE THEN CROWD Sophia Loren Claudia Schiffer The Queen Princess Margaret The Princess Royal Elizabeth Taylor Yuri Gagarin Kirk Douglas Sidney Poitier Jeremy Irons Sylvester Stallone Michael Douglas & Catherine Zeta-Jones

THE NOW CROWD Nat Rothschild Jacob Rothschild Peter Munk Bernard Arnault The Marchioness of Dufferin and Ava, aka Lindy Guinness Garrett Moore Sol Kerzner Novak & Jelena Djokovic Oleg Deripaska Prince Khaled bin Sultan of Saudi Arabia Tom Daniel Oliver & Pia Corlette

RICHARD BURTON & ELIZABETH TAYLOR WITH PRESIDENT TITO AT SVETI STEFAN, 1971

One of the attractions for the yachting community is that there is no tax on fuel. So it’s worth coming here just to fill up your boat. ‘When they first opened the marina, they offered seriously competitive rates,’ says Ben, ‘so everyone who kept their yachts in Corfu, which is only 100 miles away, was, like, “Sweet!”, and came over.’ Novak Djokovic anchors his yacht here, and Prince Khaled bin Sultan of Saudi Arabia signed a lease to dock his Golden Fleet of three mega-yachts here for 30 years. For some, like Russian billionaire Oleg Deripaska, it’s not enough to keep your boat here – he has built a villa on a hillside overlooking the water. Others buy a residence in the Regent itself and park the boat outside. This summer, the annual Superyacht Rendezvous meets in Montenegro – the first time it has been held outside Monaco. If it all sounds a bit billionaire-centric, that’s because it is. This is a tiny Balkan state that has had a playground for the ultra-high-net-worth crowd grafted onto it. Peter Munk says he doesn’t want to encourage mass tourism, as he believes Montenegro doesn’t have the infrastructure. He’s right in a way: the roads are all single-carriageway,

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PHOTOGRAPHS: BETTMANN/CORBIS, PORTO MONTENEGRO

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WorldMags.net and, because of the mountainous terrain, are not exactly fast. To get here at the moment is not particularly easy unless you have a private jet or a yacht. There are direct flights twice a week with Ryanair to Tivat, and British Airways flies daily to Dubrovnik, a 90-minute drive away. But none of this matters once you’re out on a boat, diving into crisp blue water or stopping to explore a church or island fortress. The evidence of Montenegro’s complex past is all around. Because the Bay of Kotor, which is 12 miles long and naturally protected on all sides, is such a perfect harbour, it has been fought over quite a lot. The old town of Kotor huddles against a mountain enclosed by some impressively defensive walls. The architecture in the town of Perast is Venetian – the country was ruled by Venice from the early 15th century until 1797. Venetian rule then gave way to the Austro-Hungarians, who established Kotor as their naval base until it was ceded to the French in 1805. The British came next, then the Russians – and just about everyone has parked their subs here at some point. Today, there’s a charming naval heritage museum, with an actual submarine that you can walk around. Cut deep into the hillside all around the bay are submarine pens, where subs used to lurk to avoid air attack, which you can zoom in and out of in your

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speedboat. A party of dolphins pops up to say hello. We stop off on Mamula, a deserted island fortress – a more poetic version of Alcatraz – that was once a prison and is now dominated by chattering seagulls that swoop down to peck at your ears. It would make an awesome hotel or Soho House if anyone could persuade the government to let them have it. It’s handily located a short hop from Ribarsko Selo, the best fish restaurant on the coast, where you can’t leave before sampling the lobster carpaccio with grated truffle or the black tagliatelle with mussels and clams. Three bottles of wine later, at 5pm, we roll back into the speedboat and crank up the stereo. It’s the perfect cure for a hangover. The previous night we had ended up dancing on tables at Pantagana, a little cave of a restaurant that is so tiny there are as many musicians in the band as there are diners. Over grilled red octopus and giant slabs of steak, we heard how Oliver Corlette, an Australian Harvard graduate who runs Porto Montenegro, wants to make this a year-round destination. ‘At the moment, it’s very seasonal,’ he said ‘But there’s no reason why the season can’t grow.’ Corlette and his wife Pia live here and plan to send ]

‘Montenegro has that Ibiza/Mykonos no-consequences vibe. Anything can happen’

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Novak Djokovic keeps his yacht here, and Prince Khaled bin Sultan of Saudi Arabia signed a lease to anchor his ‘Golden Fleet’ here for 30 years [their daughter to the international school that will be opening shortly in Porto Montenegro. They got married in a super-lavish ceremony at Sveti Stefan, the first luxury resort to open here – and the story of how that happened tells you a bit about how fast things are changing here. ‘When we were told we had a wedding here in three months, I thought that would be impossible,’ says the hotel’s assistant manager, Igor Barba. ‘We had one loo, and no chairs or cutlery.’ After years of slumber, the Montenegrin way of doing things was not quite ready for an international wedding. But it happened, and it was a huge success. Novak Djokovic chose Sveti Stefan for his wedding too. It is, indeed, a magical place, covering two separate locations. One, on the mainland, is a two-storey villa built in the Thirties as a summer palace for King Alexander I of Yugoslavia. He never set foot there, having been assassinated before it was ready, but his widow, Queen Marie, used it until war broke out. Standing in the middle of its own private bay, it is the perfect holiday villa and, some say, has the best beach anywhere on the Adriatic. A 10-minute walk along the coast is the other half of the resort, a fortified island rock

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HIT THE HIGH SEAS Montenegro is best viewed from the water, so do the sensible thing and charter the 56m Panthalassa, above. Designed by Foster + Partners, she sleeps 12 and has the perfect prow to swan-dive from. One-week charter, from £180,000, through Y.CO (y.co).

joined to the beach by a short causeway and topped by a village of 40-odd fishermen’s cottages. After the war, there were plans to turn Sveti Stefan into an artists’ commune, but the then-communist government thought it would make more sense as a hotel. It did rather well, attracting many of the most glamorous yachters of the period: Sophia Loren, Elizabeth Taylor, Sidney Poitier and even the Queen and Princess Margaret. It was named one of the top 10 hotels in the world by Paris Match in 1968. Fast-forward to 2007, when it was bought by Aman Resorts, which has spent the past eight years carrying out a painstaking reconstruction. The main villa, previously comprising 26 bedrooms, now has just eight suites, each with its own vast bathroom and a typically Aman minimalist vibe. In the next bay, the most extraordinary spa has been built overlooking its own private beach and featuring indoor and outdoor pools that you can swim between. The most exclusive place to stay in all of Montenegro is Sveti Stefan island, which has been cleverly converted into a series of 50 apartments. From the beach, it looks as though it should be open to the public, like St Michael’s Mount, but actually it can only be visited by residents, which gives it an air of super-exclusivity. There are three churches on the island, several swimming pools (some shared, some private), two restaurants, a piazza and a library and, everywhere, magnificent views of the blue-green Adriatic. Rooms start at over £740 a night, not including breakfast, and the strategy is, in Basil Fawlty terms, to keep the riff-raff out. It’s almost impossible to book a room here in the peak summer season: one family rents the biggest suite, at £3,100 a night, for three weeks every summer, plus two more for the children and the nanny. It would be nice to pretend you don’t have to be a billionaire to enjoy the best of Montenegro, but the truth is, it helps. ( BOOK IT Double at Aman Sveti Stefan, from £465 (amanresorts.com); double at Regent Porto Montenegro, from £145 (regenthotels.com). British Airways (ba.com) flies from Gatwick to Dubrovnik, from £62 one-way.

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PHOTOGRAPHS: SPLASH NEWS, PORTO MONTENEGRO, PIA BAYET

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The kitchen table is more than a place for meals; it’s a place where families meet. But was the wood it’s made from harvested sustainably? Used to be hard to tell. Now shoppers can look for the Forest Stewardship Council (FSC) label to make sure wooden furniture, and a variety of other products, are forest-friendly. WWF helped start the FSC to ensure that the world’s forests are managed responsibly, and that people and wildlife who depend on forests can continue to do so long into the future. Help us look after the world where you live at panda.org

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HELP SAVE THE KITCHEN TABLE

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WorldMags.net Where to go... FOR A BEACH JAUNT OR MOUNTAIN MEANDER NEED SUN AND SEA?

LOOKING FOR A SCENE?

WANT TO GO TRAD?

D-RESORT GOCEK

GSTAAD PALACE

Gstaad

Zermatt

St Tropez is all about excess, but somehow its most famous hotel is not. Yes, it’s a celebrity magnet: think Brigitte Bardot and Jack Nicholson. Yes, its nightclub, Les Caves du Roy, is an eye-wateringly expensive den of friskiness. But the hotel itself, a nest of blue-shuttered ochre and terracotta buildings, is decidedly low-key and perfectly charming – more Mediterranean fishing village than glittering gin palace. There’s still a smattering of marble (in reception, the spa and the bathrooms), but the rooms are comfy and even a tad old-worldly, the staff are enchanting and the views are Instagram-tastic. You’ll venture into town, of course, but when you’ve had your fill of the heaving masses of permatanned humanity, climb back to safety (and what a climb it is!), order lunch by the pool (burrata tomato salad and a glass of Domaine Ott, and thank the gods that, after all these years, the Byblos remains unspoiled.

Want the beauty of Bodrum with none of the flash? Then head down the coast to Göcek, its laidback little sister. Here, in the prettiest marina, you’ll find the D-Resort, a true slice of Turkish delight. Check into one of the airy whitewashed rooms, whip your bikini on and walk straight back out and into one of the plunge pools to loll around on sunken sunloungers. Or if it’s the beach you’re after, hop into one of their golf buggies and whizz over to the private bay, where you can eat lobster by the kilo and molten-chocolate bombes at the waterside restaurant, the Breeze. The service here is stunning – a fruit platter will greet you at every turn – and the spa, spread over three floors, is a beauty, with a super-snazzy gym, two saunas, a jacuzzi and a glorious hammam with smooth marble walls and twinkling lights overhead. The most relaxing thing? No one will judge you on where your kaftan is from.

Gstaad Palace in the summer is basically a fairytale. It has huge, Disneyesque turrets and sits on a pea-green mountain spattered with buttercups and roamed by cows like the ones on the chocolate wrapper. And it’s reached by the 1900s woodpanelled Golden Pass train, which is obviously fantastic. Le Grill Rôtisserie, one of five restaurants, offers lip-smacking langoustines, veal chop with duck liver and chestnut-mousse pudding. The whopping spa has eight treatment rooms, a huge hammam, a pilates room and both indoor and outdoor pools. Outside, tennis balls thwack, bathers lounge and hot-air balloons chuff. Yoga enthusiasts can make tracks for the 200-year-old Walig Hut – 1,700 feet up a mountainside – to bend and drink herbal tea. Cheese enthusiasts should hike the Fondue Trail with a fondue picnic to eat en route. Most brilliantly, there’s no snow, which means no pretending that you actually like falling downhill.

Swiss-pine aroma? Tick. An abundance of antlers? Tick. Young and suavely attentive owner? TICK. This is Cervo, the hippest gaff this side of the Matterhorn. The rebellious Cervo gang, headed up by the delightful Daniel F Lauber, has kicked gold-plated alpine kitsch out of the game. Rooms are unfussy, all smooth wooden beams and cool tartan wallpaper, and the food is deliciously Swiss – the newly opened Ferdinand serves the scrummiest fondue you’ll ever experience (it’s laced with champagne and truffles). Summer is for hiking, and you’d be a fool not to, with 250 miles of trails to explore. Afterwards, head to the once-rowdy après-ski bar, now reserved for weary walkers, to refuel with a flagon of the hotel’s own Huntsman beer. But it need not be a total adieu to the snow – ski nuts can stampede to the Theodul Glacier, the largest summer ski area in the world, to whoosh around in the shadow of the Toblerone-shaped Matterhorn.

BOOK IT Double, from £140 (dresortgocek.com.tr).

BOOK IT Double, from £460 (palace.ch).

BOOK IT Two-night Hike & Explore package, £700 (cervo.ch).

St Tropez

BOOK IT Carrier (carrier.co.uk) offers three nights from £925, including return flights.

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Göcek

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WORDS: SOPHIE GOODWIN, GERRI GALLAGHER, CELIA THURSFIELD, EVE JONES

CERVO

HOTEL BYBLOS

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SIMPLY THE BEST!

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‘Yah’ means ‘no’ Remember that long conversation you had with the guy who owns your company? When you thought he was agreeing with you? He wasn’t. He was disagreeing, with increasing vehemence. ‘No! No!’ he was saying. Only you ploughed on and on. Did you make a terrible fool of yourself? Yes. Will it be OK? Yah.

By Hugo Rifkind, who writes for The Times

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THIS IS THE PAGE YOU ’RE LOOKING FOR CONTI N U E D F ROM PAG E 83

Lemogne and Thuault see other advantages to being in Luxembourg and being in Le Freeport. Yes, they said, bonded warehouses in, say, London also offer secure storage, and the suspension of VAT while goods are in them. But Luxembourg is home to the private offices of many rich clients; it’s the perfect place to help the novice form his or her collection. Tax isn’t really the issue, said Lemogne; the key thing is ‘how you structure the deal’. ‘We’ve seen,’ said Thuault, ‘a growing appetite for art, to diversify the wealth of an HNWI. But generally, it’s a very opaque market. So we provide a new range of tools to assess art not only as pure, physical art but also as an investment.’ One can only applaud Thuault and Lemogne’s frankness, but it’s the sort of thing that makes me understand why Melanie Gerlis of The Art Newspaper told me: ‘We all love to hate freeports. We understand why people use them, but they seem to represent everything people worry about in terms of the art world – the sheer amount of money spent, the way they reflect a world where art is an asset, like gold. They’re an easy target [to mock], and perhaps an unfair target. But...’ Thuault had an answer, though, an answer that sums up Le Freeport’s allure: ‘A lot of individuals want to have everything done in a very discreet, confidential way. So they come here.’ Discretion. Confidentiality. Privacy. Trust. These are what Arendt trades in. It’s why he – and Lemogne and Thuault – bang on about the Luxembourg government’s insistence that all be above board, that every imported artwork be declared to customs in detail, that there’s no chance of saying simply ‘Painting’ or ‘Sculpture’, as in the good old, bad old days of the Geneva Freeport; there, in 1995, looted antiquities were found lurking in strongrooms; there, in 2003, Swiss customs found 200 stolen Egyptian antiquities. No wonder Thuault was so keen on emphasising ‘the 28 parameters that will be assessed by Luxembourg customs before they accept an artwork’. Which is why l’affaire Bouvier is something Arendt could do without. Because the very evening I flew out of Luxembourg, Yves Bouvier, Le Freeport’s main

shareholder, was arrested in Monaco and charged with fraud and complicity in money laundering. They were charges linked to artdealing activities in which he’d engaged with a client, Dmitry Rybolovlev, a Russian who made billions in fertilisers and owns AS Monaco football club, as well as a Modigliani and a Leonardo sold to him by Bouvier. Which is unfortunate, especially when Arendt had told me that one of Le Freeport’s great advantages was that it could boast ‘someone like Bouvier with deep knowledge of how to store valuable things’ – Bouvier’s original fortune stems from his company, Natural Le Coultre, which is, its website declares, ‘one of the biggest specialists worldwide for the storage, packing and shipping of works of art’. Which means, of course, that M Bouvier knows what art has been taken where by his company. All of which is, as David Arendt said, ‘for us, completely regrettable. It’s unwanted, negative publicity.’ Bouvier has, naturally, protested his innocence, and he remains Le Freeport’s largest shareholder, though Arendt said he is now ‘a passive rather an than active one, until he is completely cleared’. He also remains a board member, though one who has decided ‘not to participate in the governance of Le Freeport until all pending proceedings against him are ruled in his favour’. Two independent directors have been added to the board; Arendt is sure they will inspire confidence. Yes, he said, some clients who were on the verge of signing deals with Le Freeport have held back. ‘They say, “We’d like to see what’s happening here.” I can understand. But we’re slowly digging ourselves out.’ Well, he would say that, wouldn’t he? But perhaps more heartfelt was his reaction when I told him that The New York Times had run a long piece on Bouvier’s problems. ‘The New York Times?’ he exclaimed. ‘Oh, shit.’ Quite so. But things got shittier yet for David Arendt. On 11 May, Olivier Thomas, another major shareholder and the stand-in chairman of Le Freeport, was, his lawyer told me, ‘invited’ by French police to ‘answer a few questions’ about a complaint from Picasso’s stepdaughter alleging he had played a part in stealing three Picassos she’d given him to transport and store (no charges have been brought, and Thomas’ lawyer does not anticipate any). Arendt was, he told me, ‘starting to be extremely pissed off ’ – but, after talks with Thomas and Bouvier, he felt more upbeat, though it was ‘a very complicated story’. But as Lady Bracknell might put it: to have one chairman touched by scandal may be regarded as misfortune, but to have two looks like carelessness. And carelessness is not what one is looking for in the last word in security. (

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A M E T H YS T

SMOKY QUARTZ

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GARNET

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D R AG O N ’ S B L O O D C A L C I T E

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PROPERTY SECTION

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LOT 1

LOT 2

LOT 8

LOT 7

LOTS 3 & 4

LOT 8

An exceptional portfolio of

ESTATE PROPERTIES DORSINGTON, WARWICKSHIRE & PEBWORTH, WORCESTERSHIRE, ENGLAND Stratford-upon Avon: 7 miles, Chipping Campden: 9 miles, central London: 110 miles For Sale Freehold by Private Treaty Guide ÂŁ9.515 million (Whole) or in up to 11 lots with further land available

Robert Pritchard Smiths Gore Stow-on-the-Wold

savills.co.uk

Stephen Perks Smiths Gore London

01451 832832

020 7409 9490

robert.pritchard @savills-smithsgore.co.uk

stephen.perks @savills-smithsgore.co.uk

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An Historic

SURREY ESTATE OKEWOOD HILL, SURREY Grade II listed house with Lutyens additions, 4 reception rooms, 8 bedrooms, formal gardens, tennis court, 9 additional houses/ cottages, extensive farm and commercial buildings, signiďŹ cant estate income, 473 acres of farmland and woodland with sporting potential I about 507 acres

Alex Lawson Savills London Country Department

020 7409 3780 alawson@savills.com Chris Spofforth Savills Haywards Heath

01444 446066 Guide ÂŁ12 million

cspofforth@savills.com

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savills.co.uk

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GOLDEN TOUCH

MEET THE DISCREET COMPANY THAT CONVERTS REAL ESTATE INTO SOMETHING MAGICAL

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3523(57< 352027,21

A WorldMags.net

lchemists turn base metal into gold but Alchemy Properties converts London real estate into prime residential homes. Based in Soho, the small team has a unique insight into the world’s most competitive property market, specifically prime central London. ‘My 30-year career in the London property field has given me a unique perspective,’ says Gareth Lloyd Jones, founder of Alchemy Properties. ‘I’ve learnt how to define the potential of a building, even if this is not always immediately obvious.’ Alchemy Properties’ intelligent approach can be seen in its recent projects, including a show-stopping house that combines a top location in Kensington with luxurious interiors designed by Armani/Casa. This house was ingeniously converted from flats back to a single imposing residence, in accordance with the wishes of the client. ‘When we are instructed on a project, we always take a lot of care to establish the best way of designing each individual property, so that we can help the client to achieve their vision and expectations,’ says Gareth. With unparalleled experience of buying and selling property in prime central London, Alchemy Properties is able to provide overseas buyers with detailed advice on which location to purchase in. ‘We can provide them with guidance using our vast knowledge of areas – explaining, for example, where the nearest parks and schools are, and who their neighbours will be.’ Using construction industry contacts, Alchemy Properties is able to offer purchasers specific properties that seldom get listed on estate agents’ websites. ‘Normally I hear about potential properties before they come on the market,’ says Gareth. ‘Estate agents frequently approach us.’ This is due to the company’s excellent track record with sales, advising and ensuring that clients have the all the necessary paperwork in place to ensure that finding, negotiating and completing a sale in this most competitive of markets is conducted as smoothly and efficiently as possible. Alchemy Properties’ real advantage is that it’s a small, personable company, and offers a highly tailored, expert service. The team favours a hand-on approach, tackling all aspects of property from complex planning permissions to turn-key designs including bespoke joinery. This is especially clear with their astounding Kensington property, mentioned previously. With its striking use of modern pieces and bespoke materials, this Grade II listed house has been transformed into a comfortable family home without compromising the important original architecture. The interiors of this 9,000sq ft building were designed by Giorgio Armani’s Interior Design Studio by Armani/Casa: the result was such a success that Armani displayed it at this year’s Milan Design Week, as part of the company’s anniversary celebrations. Working on behalf of the client, Gareth and his team undertook all aspects of this unmodernised building’s transformation, from purchasing it to negotiating planning permission to convert it from flats back into a single family home and overseeing every aspect of the refurbishment process. This includes project managing and sourcing all Armani/Casa design finishes throughout, ensuring that the listed building was restored in a sensitive manner, but also incorporating every modern amenity from state-of-the-art Armani/Dada kitchens to Armani/Roca bathrooms, together with furniture and accessories all being Armani/Casa. As you would expect from the Armani collaboration, the interiors reflect the designer’s distinctive style of sophisticated elegance, with bespoke fabric panelled walls, veneer wood behind glass with profiles in bathrooms and Italian-sourced marbles. This six-bedroom property, with passenger lift, parking and secluded roof terrace, has interiors that display a quality and timeless luxury almost unheard of in a London rental property. With several other refurbished luxury rental properties soon to be available in Ovington Square and Ennismore Gardens, Alchemy is revealing its discreet talent at transforming London properties into truly outstanding homes. For more information on prime central London residences that will be available to rent through Alchemy Properties, or if you are considering acquiring an unmodernised property, we would be more than happy to advise on how we can assist and add value. Please call 020 7478 8900, email info@alchemyproperties.net or visit www.alchemyproperties.net

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RIVERSIDE LIVING IN CHELSEA WorldMags.net

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LONDON S W 1 0

LONDON’S MOST PRESTIGIOUS RIVERSIDE ADDRESS World class architecture, master planned by Sir Terry Farrell. Sophisticated riverside apartments with unrivalled views over London. Signature restaurant, shops, café and residents’ health club. Five star 24 hr concierge services.

MARKETING SUITE NOW OPEN FOR FURTHER INFORMATION CALL

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SETTING NEW STANDARDS IN WATERSIDE LIVING 2 TO 5 BEDROOM APARTMENTS F RO M £ 1 ,70 0 , 0 0 0

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One Mulberry Walk, SW3, is a stylish family home with an interior designed by Melissa Wyndham

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WorldMags.net The Kelly Hoppen touch

Highgate society

Family-friendly Fulham

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PROPERTY

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FROM TOP: Sam McArdle, Jonathan Mount, Rachel Thompson and Philip Eastwood of The Buying Solution

LOOKING EASTWARDS

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London’s most prestigious riverside location featuring 1, 2 and 3 bedroom apartments and penthouses and an array of exclusive leisure and entertainment facilities. Prices from £819,950 - £4,749,950* Fulham Reach Riverside Show Apartments and Marketing Suite, Distillery Road, London W6 9RU 020 3773 6851 | enquiries@fulhamreach.co.uk | www.fulhamreach.co.uk

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Computer generated image is indicative only. *Prices correct at time of going to press.

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THE GARDEN HOUSE LAST REMAINING 3 bedroom duplex apartment in the Garden House

£1,350,000 Nestled in over 20 acres of private landscaped grounds, Charters is an iconic development of prestigious two and three bedroom apartments offering secure luxury living of the highest standard. ●

C H A R T E R S

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20 acres of landscaped grounds

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Estate managed by one of Europe’s leading hoteliers

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50 foot heated pool

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Fully-equipped gymnasium

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Sauna & steam rooms

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Concierge service

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Snooker room

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All weather tennis court

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Dedicated security team

S U N N I N G H I L L

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A S C O T

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CCTV system

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Electronic gates

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15 miles to London Heathrow Airport

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2 miles to Ascot Racecourse

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4 miles to the Wentworth Club

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Close to leading Independent schools, including Eton College, Wellington College and St. Mary’s Ascot

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www.chartersuk.com VIEWING BY APPOINTMENT ONLY • lwilliamson@savills.com • 01344 295375

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What’s it like to be... WorldMags.net LOT T I E , B R IA N S E W E L L’ S W H I PPE T/S TA F F I E C ROS S

rian has always preferred the company of dogs and says three is the best number – apparently, we develop our own society. So there’s top dog, up-and-coming dog and bottom dog. I’m definitely not bottom – that’s Gretel, a very unfriendly terrier whose only interest is killing pigeons. I wouldn’t say I’m top, though, as Brian says I’m ugly and my nose isn’t long enough. I suppose I’m no oil painting, but Brian’s already got plenty of those. And drawings – my favourite is one by Cambiaso. You get to know about these things when your house is stuffed with them. My big weakness is balls – I really go

for them on Wimbledon Common. But I’ve overdone it recently, and Brian has spent £4,000 fixing a tendon in one of my knees. It’s good of him, as he never really wanted me – Winckelmann, the late Alsatian, chose me from the rescue home, having interviewed 20 other candidates. Brian and I have grown fond of each other over the years. I sleep on his bed or keep him company in his library as he tip-taps away at the big old typewriter. He hasn’t felt brilliant recently, so we prop each other up. I suppose that’s what dogs, and humans, are for. Matthew Bell While Lottie put her best face forward, Brian catalogued his old masters.

Photographed by MARK COCKSEDGE

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JEWE LLE R S 22 OLD BOND STREET LONDON W1S 4PY +44 20 7493 9833

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29 RUE DU RHÔNE 1204 GENÈVE +41 22 319 7100

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LES BEIGES NATURAL IS A STYLE

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