How the other 1% live…

I know I’ve a privileged lifestyle; I have a good career, go on the telly and earn well, yet today I travelled to privilege’s far side…. in truth not even the other 1% but probably the other 0.01%.

I’ve just come back from a day at the Cartier Polo on a scorching 80 degree plus day. It’s a quite gobsmacking event; in the middle of a large park field in Windsor, there are scores of corporate tents and, though I didn’t go in large daytime China White ‘nightclub’. My agent is involved with organising it, so the MSF and I were invited to the centrepiece, a full sit-down lunch at the Cartier tent with Anton Mosimann catering.

A plush toilet and chandaliers in a field

It’s difficult to contemplate when you’re in there that you’re in the middle of a field. It’s a huge white marquee, with fluffy chandaliers hanging from the top, entrance gateways, a separate linked indoor luxury toilet tent including large basin area, aftershaves and other assorted goodies.

There are more models than you’d find in an airfix collector’s attic and the place is swarming with the beautiful, the rich, the ‘well’ bred and the famous.

They said ‘Gucci’ or ‘Ben de Lisi’, the MSF said ‘River Island’

You walk in to a bank of paparazzi waiting to take photos, some for the social pages, some for the fashion ones; thankfully neither are particularly interested in me, so I step aside, as the MSF is asked to pose alone for the fashion ones. The best bit of that is that when they ask “who made your outfit”, others were saying Gucci, Ben de Lisi and some obscure names I’ve not heard of, while the MSF simply said “River Island”.

It was a great day I have to say, more so as both the MSF and I decided not to drink due to the heat and so got to people watch and enjoy the events with a clear head.

Michael Buerk and the Dolce and Gabana Model

My favourite bit was near the end; we were on a table with a group of other journalist types and all trying to work out who the man with the industrially chiseled jaw and his stunning seventeen foot six girlfriend were, as as the paps kept coming in to photo them. At that point Michael Buerk sat down, and I explained the problem and said to him “Michael we need an intreprid journalist to find out who they are…”

The rest of us were embarrassed chickens, yet with war reporting and presenting major news bulletins, it wasn’t exactly a challenge for him. So he walked over, and with a debonair style, simply asked them, then had a chat. He reported back that the bloke was the Dolce and Gabbana underwear model with the six pack (thankfully not on show) from all the posters and the girl was also a catwalk model.

Best of all, to show that bravery has its reward, they then popped over to our table, and the man asked Michael if he would mind having a picture taken with his arm around his girlfriend who was a fan!

Comment and Discuss. Discuss this blog