HEIRS & GRACES
Princess Marie-chantal of Greece gives a masterclass in Royal conduct
Princess Marie-chantal of Greece shares her advice on dinner-party seating plans, bridesmaids’ gowns and marrying into a Royal family
Over coffee in a quiet corner of the Connaught, Princess Marie-chantal of Greece is giving me a lesson in etiquette. ‘How low should you go?’ I enquire, pen poised. Having made our way through more sober social customs, such as the virtues of saying hello, eating with a knife and fork, and giving presents, we have entered a more rarefied realm of codes of conduct and are currently focusing on curtsying. The Princess has written a book all about manners for the modern family, with particular emphasis on children, but is happy to share her savoir-faire on matters majestic as well.
Born in 1968 to an Ecuadorian mother and American father, the billionaire duty-free magnate Robert Miller, MarieChantal spent her childhood in Hong Kong. She is the middle of three sisters all of whom blossomed into high-society belles, launched creative careers and found suitably prestigious spouses – in Marie-chantal’s case, Pavlos, the Crown Prince of Greece (in her words ‘Not only my Prince Charming, but one seriously charming Prince’). The pair have been blissfully married for nearly 25 years, and have five children between the ages of 11 and 23. Although Pavlos will never become king nor she queen, the Greek monarchy having been abolished in 1973, they remain Royal in title and continue to be warmly welcomed in European court circles. He is a financier, she a designer and entrepreneur who founded her eponymous luxury childrenswear label in 2000. The family decamped from London to the US two years ago as their eldest children began enrolling in American universities, but when the Princess isn’t in New York working on her company’s expansion, dining with Valentino at his French château, swimming alongside India Hicks in the Bahamas, skiing in Gstaad or visiting her in-laws in Greece, she can often be found here in Britain.
Indeed, it seems this green and pleasant land holds a special place in her affections. Her Hampton Court wedding to Pavlos was organised by Lady Elizabeth Anson, the Queen and Mick Jagger’s party planner of choice, and Prince William is godfather to her eldest son, who the couple sent to Berkshire’s Wellington College to be educated. She even persuaded Viscount Linley to lend her
Princess Margaret’s old Land Rover to star in an advertising campaign for her Belgravia-based brand, which is beloved of the Cambridges (Princess Charlotte recently wore one of her dresses to gambol around in at a polo match), and is about to launch a collection in collaboration with Borgo de Nor, one of fashion’s favourite new London labels. The Princess returns to North Yorkshire every summer to spend the Glorious Twelfth on her father’s prize 32,000-acre grouse moor, and is already planning her retirement in the family’s Cotswolds manor. It will be devoted, she says, to that very English pastime of gardening.
‘I like a lot of the British quirks,’ she says with a smile, expressing a certain fondness for our social peculiarities and old-school behaviours. She makes a good case for that seemingly outmoded tradition at top-tier English tables whereby the host or hostess will always talk to the guest on their right for the first course, and the entire table will pair up accordingly – until the second course arrives, at which point he or she will turn to their left, and everyone else must cut off their conversations immediately, switching to face their other neighbour. (The Queen had to gently remind Lewis Hamilton of this procedure at a Buckingham Palace luncheon in 2015.) ‘I actually think it’s a great rule – like the best bits of etiquette, it serves a thoughtful purpose: it means no one is ever left out,’ the Princess points out. ‘Good manners are not about being pompous, they’re about being considerate.’
When I ask which topics are off-limits at a modern dinner table, she replies without missing a beat: politics and religion. ‘Especially in America, holy cow. Politics today is what religion was 200 years ago: it divides a whole party,’ she says with a sigh. Her advice for other delicate social scenarios include agreeing to wearing a chocolate-brown gown if you’re a bridesmaid and that’s what your friend wants you to wear, because one must honour the bride. She loves a reception line at a wedding, though was quite tired after her own, which required greeting 1,400 friends and family. Finally, she advocates wearing hats and singing out loud and proud in church, whether it’s your religion or not.
What about the rule that a lady doesn’t wear diamonds before 6pm? This is a potentially apocryphal policy that was occasionally distributed by my great-granny. The Princess laughs. ‘I’ve never heard of that… I guess it’s to do with not being vulgar? That’s hysterical – I love it. Well, ta da!’ She holds out her hands: they are sparkle-free at our morning appointment. Indeed, this manners maven is not all about stricture and standing on ceremony: she allows her children’s friends to address her as MC, happily posts smiley family snaps and selfies on her Instagram, and plays the ukulele…
But back to that genuflecting final frontier of Royal decorum. My new mentor believes that these days, the deep curtsy is no longer required, and ‘a little bob’ – her preferred approach – will do very nicely. She herself will only curtsy to heads of state she ‘adores and respects’ – which includes our sovereign. ‘But with all things manners, or protocol, just ask. And keep it simple!’ she says, thanking the waiter with what I would give a 10-out-of-10 for grace, before gliding off to her next exquisitely executed rendezvous. ‘Manners Begin at Breakfast’ by Princess Marie-chantal of Greece (£19.95, Vendome) is published on 27 February. Marie-chantal (www.mariechantal.com).