THE EMPEROR OF ETIQUETTE
What SHOULD you say when Charles gives you a ‘sinister’ gift? Ask David Tang, the man who knows everyone – and has waspish advice for all society dilemmas
Whoa! This just isn’t appropriate, Sir...
SIR DAVID Tang is recounting the time his dear friend Prince Charles unwittingly committed a terrible faux pas. The Prince had given him a sumptuous gold clock from Cartier – an immensely expensive and very flattering gift. ‘The moment I opened it and saw this huge clock, one part of my brain said, “Wow, that’s amazing,”’ he says. ‘But then the Chinese part said, “You really mustn’t accept a clock because it symbolises death.”’
There was only one thing for it, he decided. ‘In a moment of complete obsequiousness resembling the Exxon Valdez oil slick, I said, “Oh, thank you very much.” I was damned if I was going to say, “Listen you stupid old Prince, don’t you know the Chinese custom?” and give it back to him. It was a moment of weakness in my life.’
The anecdote is pure Tang: highly entertaining, with more than a hint of mischief.
Of course, it’s also casually proffered evidence of his status as the best-connected man in Britain.
He is friends with everyone, from Kate Moss and Gwyneth Paltrow to Kevin Spacey, Sir Mick Jagger and Stephen Fry, and drops their names at a dizzying velocity.
Born in Hong Kong, he moved to this country aged 13 not speaking a word of English. Now 62, he made his fortune through a business empire which founded ventures including the fashion label Shanghai Tang, the China Tang restaurant at The Dorchester hotel and has the franchise for Havana cigars in Asia, Australia and Canada. He also owns a Chinese lifestyle shop called Tang Tang Tang Tang, whose name is designed to be sung to the opening bars of Beethoven’s Fifth symphony.
Along the way, he became a keen observer of Britain’s complex and sometimes baffling rules of social etiquette, and for the past five years he has been the Financial Times’ agony uncle. Now, he has written a book called Rules For Modern Life, a tongue-in-cheek guide to negotiating the pitfalls of contemporary living – something even Prince Charles could do with, by the sounds of it.
It’s packed full of pithy advice on conundrums such as how to behave at a dinner party if one of the guests has a heart attack (carry on eating), when it’s acceptable for men to wear shorts (on a yacht) and whether a blue suit can ever pass muster (it can’t). It’s all extremely amusing but, he points out, underpinned by his genuine belief in polite, refined social behaviour.
‘Good etiquette is based on good manners, and I’m all for that,’ he says. ‘I think the world is so much nicer if
‘Theresa May’s cleavage enhanced her appearance’
you meet people who have good manners. When we’re talking about etiquette we’re really talking about being considerate to others.’
This, it should be said, is combined with a famed tendency to spew expletives at his own loyal staff – who ignore and adore him.
I don’t like to ask about the etiquette of giving an interview from one’s bed, as Sir David does when I meet him at one of his two London homes, a cottage nestled in the heart of Hyde Park. He says he is perfectly well, although he has undergone a liver transplant and hip replacement in recent years, but feels tired, so we talk in his bedroom, where he is propped up on white pillows underneath an enormous painting by another of his friends, Tracey Emin (‘very talented and amusing’.)
He is irrepressibly entertaining company; often wince-inducingly politically incorrect, but so funny and indiscreet that it’s impossible to feel too exasperated with him.
Take his thoughts on Theresa May – or, to be precise, one part of her in particular. ‘I remember distinctly that when she was Home Secretary, every time she appeared next to the Prime Minister on PMQs, she had a distinct cleavage on display,’ he says. ‘It enhanced her appearance, softened her. She looked, not sexy, but quite good.
‘In Parliament it’s exciting, because the camera zooms in at a 45-degree angle and that gives you a good view. And I hoped she would do that more, but now she’s always covered up.’
He admits he enjoys saying things which are ‘just not ordinary’ to draw people in when he meets them.
This irreverence is a major part of the reason for his popularity, along with his penchant for inviting unlikely combinations of people to his parties to ensure they go with a bang. ‘I make a rule of not telling people who’s coming and I love stirring things up,’ he says. ‘The trouble with most English dinner parties is that they’re one dimensional, with the same old people. I don’t believe in that. I think you have to have cads, naughty people, incredibly respectable people to be shocked by extremely unconventional people, gross people and so forth.
‘For my 60th birthday I put Philip Green on a table full of toffs and…’ There’s a pause for effect, then he smiles. ‘I thought it was interesting.’
He’s proud of his illustrious friendships, many of which he’s cultivated for decades. ‘Decent people are decent people and that’s the only type of people you really want to know, irrespective of whether they’re poor or rich or famous or whatever,’ he says.
Perhaps he does have penniless friends, but it’s Kate Moss and Jude Law who’ve made it into pride of place in his loo, laughing with Sir David in a series of glamorous photographs. Moss is a loyal member of the Tang tribe. ‘I’ve known her more than 25 years and I go on holiday with her at
‘Men in flip-flops and shorts look disgusting’
least once a year and she’s fantastic fun,’ he says. ‘Kate is extraordinary but you’ve got to know her mood. I’m one of her more stabilising friends and she knows that. You don’t want to hassle her. You leave her alone and she comes to you.’
Kate somehow managed to persuade him to get a tattoo on a trip to Bangkok. ‘She said, “Come on Uncle Dave.” I said no and she said, “Stop being such an old fart,” so I said, “OK.” I used to do the crossword every day so I got a tiny black square on my wrist.’
He’s genuinely fascinated by people and loves meeting new ones, and has been pictured with seemingly everyone from the late Fidel Castro to the Pope. He met Jeremy Corbyn last year at the state banquet for the Chinese president at Buckingham Palace. ‘There were a lot of rumours about whether he would turn up in white tie, and he did. I went in at the same time as him and I said, “Mr Corbyn, you look incredibly smart, your tie is tied meticulously. There are only two problems. One is that a
Thanks so much for the present, Your Highness
button on your shirt is missing. The other is that rather than having a white handkerchief in your pocket you have two Biros.” Then I saw him again and we posed for a picture together. My new best friend.’
It’s a joke. In reality, Sir David is very excited about the prospect of Brexit. ‘I’m a huge Brexiteer,’ he says. ‘I think it will give rise to many opportunities. I’m having lunch with Farage on Thursday. I don’t think one should underestimate the attraction of Britain. It’s only the Brits who are apologists for their own country. It’s this innate self-deprecation.’
He enjoys gambling but not drinking, beyond the occasional half-glass of Petrus 1961, because his constitution can’t handle it. The British obsession with boozing drives him to despair. ‘So many of my friends are perfectly normal, but when they get drunk they’re intolerable,’ he says. ‘I’d say about a third of my friends are AA material.’
Before I can coax him into revealing which third, we’ve moved on to the lack of sartorial standards in Britain. ‘Here in Hyde Park everyone looks like tramps in ghastly clothes,’ he says. He can’t abide jeans, trainers and hoodies. ‘If people wore a suit and a tie or a nice jacket and a blouse the world would look much better.’
He is particularly scathing of men who wear flip-flops. ‘It looks disgusting, especially if they wear those shorter trousers and have hair on their shins and horrible toes.’
When he travels to the US, he carries a picture of a revolting, verruca-infected foot to show to airport security when they ask him to remove his shoes. ‘I say, “If I catch this I am going to sue you and your security firm.” In the end you have to do it, but at least it amuses me and the other passengers.’ Plastic surgery is another pet hate. ‘It’s appalling,’ he says. ‘I have a friend who’s constantly having surgery and I said, “I’m one of your best friends but at this rate, you’ll have to wear a yellow carnation on your lapel next time I see you because I won’t recognise you.” Natural beauty cannot be beaten.’
One of his favourite possessions is a signal jammer, which scrambles mobile phone signals and which he takes to dinner parties and on trains. ‘People are so dependent on technology, it’s awful,’ he says. ‘The jammer is amusing. People go berserk, saying, “What’s happening? Why can’t I get a signal?”’ He chuckles as I leave him looking blissfully comfortable amid his pillows.
Rules For Modern Life: A Connoisseur’s Survival Guide, by Sir David Tang, is published by Portfolio Penguin, priced £12.99. Offer price £9.74 (25 per cent discount) until December 4. Order at www. mailbookshop.co.uk or call 0844 571 0640, p&p is free on orders over £15.