King Charles III and Queen Consort Camilla in September 2022. If you’re truly upper class, the contents of your wardrobe must appear to be as old as your family crest. Photo / AP
King Charles III and Queen Consort Camilla in September 2022. If you’re truly upper class, the contents of your wardrobe must appear to be as old as your family crest. Photo / AP
The King’s “fashion faux pas” is dominating headlines this week. The misstep in question was a hole in His Majesty’s sock, revealed when he removed his shoes during a mosque visit. Evidently the royal moths have been busy. But for a man so famously fussy about his wardrobe, it seemsan unlikely oversight.
The reason could well be that he just didn’t notice – but it could also be read as a subtle indicator of class. In the King’s circles, threadbare socks are as key to the well-born uniform as a polo mallet or a signet ring. Forget immaculate Succession-style Loro Piana cashmere; if you’re truly upper class, the contents of your wardrobe must appear to be as old as your family crest.
If your clothes weren’t inherited along with several hundred acres, the stately home and its resident army of merino wool-munchers, then they’ll be made bespoke by the same Savile Row tailor that your family has used for generations.
“I have found that the aristocracy buy good clothes and then wear them to death whether that is bespoke suits or shoes,” says Jeremy Hackett, co-founder of Hackett. “Whilst they may look scruffy, what they are wearing was the best when they were made.
“Boris Johnson is a master of scruffiness [but] in general his clothes are cheap so he doesn’t carry it off in the same way as an aristocrat. The King is well known for patching up his clothes and as far as his socks are concerned he probably thought ‘darn it’, they will last a little bit longer.”
This isn’t to suggest that the King doesn’t care about style. Quite the contrary. This is a man who ties a silk scarf around his neck when skiing, and who has worn safari suits better than any other high-profile figure in history.
But if the unbranded luxury of stealth wealth is a hallmark of the Davos set, there’s a very different set of dusty old rules for the British upper classes. There are details that form part of a set of visual humblebrags, which telegraph an attitude that these aren’t just clothes, they’re heirlooms designed to last a lifetime, or three – after all, many of them will be donning great-grandad’s winter coat, plucked from a pile in the attic.
Purchased along with your suit from a Savile Row tailor, probably in a luxe silk-wool blend that costs upwards of £30 (NZ$48) a pair. They’ll require hand-washing, but that’s not a problem when you have a team of valets to do that for you.
The frayed collar
The King wears Turnbull & Asser, and has been known to sport a slightly frayed collar – why upgrade when it’s still perfectly serviceable? Others in his set might forgo ironing their shirts too, especially if they’re short on staff (at Eton, they never learned how).
The slouchy suit
When it comes to suits, the King is fond of Anderson & Sheppard, known for a relaxed fit. Photo / Getty Images
When it comes to suits, the King is fond of Anderson & Sheppard, known for a relaxed fit; this is essential, because the upper classes never want to look like they’re trying too hard.
The patched jacket
King Charles at the 2013 Whitstable Oyster Festival, sporting a suit with a darned section under the bottom left pocket.
Charles’ off-duty clothes go far beyond patched elbows – he owns jackets that are almost a patchwork of repairs. You get upper-class bonus points if the suede patch is so worn that it’s shiny.
The King's handmade shoes have been lovingly polished, repaired and conditioned to ensure a long lifespan.
His Majesty’s shoes, handmade by Crockett & Jones, may have creases in the leather, but said leather has been lovingly polished, repaired and fed with a conditioner to ensure a long lifespan – which you’d want to maximise for footwear costing upwards of £600 a pair.
It’s an approach shared by his father, the late Prince Philip, who continued to wear his wedding shoes for special occasions for over 70 years, until his death in 2021.
