For the catwalk that was yesterday’s royal wedding, Victoria Beckham wore a boat-necked navy dress of her own ‘design’ (meaning she wrapped some fabric around her tiny frame a few weeks ago and said: ‘Um, yeah!’) with a pretty, scooped asymmetric hem and short sleeves, and a jaunty pillbox titfer by Philip Treacy. The effect was more suitable for a funeral than a wedding.
Her very high shoes, custom-made by Christian Louboutin and costing well over £1,000, were surely as hazardous to her unborn fourth child as smoking 20 Capstan Full Strength.
Her large envelope clutch bag, too, was by VB, made from lizard skin and possibly costing more than the royal reception and honeymoon together.
Her bare twiglet legs were as well-oiled as the royal wedding machine itself, while her make-up was wildly inappropriate for such a formal day occasion: far too much blusher, which made her face even more gaunt than normal, and smudged, inky eyes.
David Beckham was dressed head to toe in Ralph Lauren, a designer who does English style through the prism of waspish Americanism, every bit as fake as Victoria Beckham’s hair and pedigree as a fashion designer. Why did David not choose a struggling British tailor from Savile Row? His quiff (I noticed he did not once wear his top hat, fearing helmet-hair no doubt) was reminiscent of Ricky Gervais
Perhaps Victoria Beckham’s sombre outfit was appropriate to her mood, given an apparent tiff between the pair on their way into the Abbey. (R)
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