Five tell-tale signs that you’re upper-class in 2022

It was 40 years ago that The Official Sloane Ranger Handbook was first published, the famous tome that faithfully catalogued the Gucci loafers, velvet hairbands, creamy pearls and Barbour jackets so slavishly favoured by the upper classes.

If a year is a long time in fashion, four decades is an eternity, old bean. Not that the upper classes actually say “old bean”, you understand, any more than they use words like “poppycock”.

Those are parodies of an imagined Sloane. Today’s toff is a far more nebulous creature whose style choices are harder to define. As so recently exemplified by the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge – he in quirky velvet slippers, she in chic, minimalist Roland Mouret – the current members of the upper classes favour a wardrobe that runs the gamut from Succession-style stealth wealth to zany, off-kilter features that they and their friends consider “bantz”. Case in point: the trend for ironic tattoos (family crests, cartoon characters), novelty socks and eccentric-looking sunglasses of the sort that Princess Diana favoured.

Read on to find out more about the new signifiers of Sloanedom.

When it comes to formal footwear, the upper classes were as unwavering in their devotion to John Lobb and John Cleverley as they are to their dogs.

Thin of sole, smooth of hide and neat of stitch, their shoes were as much a source of pride and joy as their castles, and almost as costly. Only Jermyn Street could provide the requisite degree of understated elegance, and a shoe that is unobtrusively delicate, but never effeminate – and certainly never camp. Until now.

Quite what traditionalists will make of Prince William’s latest choice of footwear is anyone’s guess. True, he is a trained RAF helicopter pilot, but was that sufficient reason to rock up at the premiere of the Top Gun sequel in a pair of black velvet slippers embroidered with fighter jets? Apparently so: it’s upper-class humour, it tends to favour the literal. What jolly japes, therefore, to attend a film about fighter jets with such slippers.

We wait with baited breath for the Queen’s jubilee celebrations, where William is rumoured to be appearing in a suit made entirely of platinum.

Velvet slippers, from £310, Crockett & Jones (crockettandjones.com)

Monograms are to the upper classes what monograms are to the lower classes – and therein lies the problem.

Where once they signified class, wealth and status, in 2022, they are as likely to signify ego, braggadocio and that specific narcissism that has flourished so profusely in the social media age. Monograms have been well and truly democratised: even the high street has got in on the act, with Topshop, Whistles and Levi’s just three affordable brands to have offered monogram services in recent years.

All of which leaves the posh monogram with an identity crisis. How to differentiate itself from the bold, brash initials favoured by the lumpen proles? Answer: go understated.

For the upper classes, monograms are never the focal point, but instead are small, discreet and in subtle colours.

Tonal monograms are particularly favoured: a pale grey thread on a white pocket square, for example.

Placement-wise, discretion is key: the cuff of a shirt rather than the breast pocket, or better still, the hem. If you look like A$AP Rocky, you’ve got it wrong. And if you’re wearing more than one monogram, you’ve definitely got it wrong.

Navy Cristallo cotton shirt, £260, Emma Willis (emmawillis.com) 

Custom shirt, from £79, Charles Tyrwhitt (charlestyrwhitt.com)

You cannot be truly posh unless you are swagged in the jewellery of your dead ancestors. Alas, grandfather’s Patek Philippe is simply too valuable to wear on the street, unless “the street” is “the grounds”, and ensconced by a moat.

Which is possibly why posh boys love a signet ring, an item whose lesser financial value is offset by its vast sentimental one.

In fact, it’s part of their very identity, as they will never tire of telling you when they’re drunk “I love my siggy”, shortly before raising their pinkie imperiously to demand another cider.

Prince Charles has worn the same gold signet ring on his left pinky since the Seventies, but while his bears the crest of the Prince of Wales, younger aristos favour signets with a more esoteric twist.

Alighieri Fire In His Eyes cornelian and 24 carat gold-plated ring, £280, (matchesfashion.com)

Once upon a time, the velvet smoking jacket was the sole preserve of Daniel Craig at a James Bond premiere, Idris Elba at the TV Choice Awards or Tom Ford taking his bows after a show.

For royalty, such a garment would have seemed a little outré. But royalty, it seems, is getting with the programme, and embracing jackets in fashionable fabrics and hues.

A favourite fabric for evening? Velvet.

In October 2021, Prince William wore an emerald green velvet tuxedo at the Earthshot Prize, while in March, Prince Edward wore a velvet smoking jacket with braiding detail at a National Youth Theatre fundraiser.

For the premiere Top Gun: Maverick, William was back in velvet again, this time choosing a deep blue tuxedo jacket by Alexander McQueen. Now that his little brother is wearing a high net worth wardrobe that includes jackets by Brioni and Celine, it’s understandable that William wants to up his game.

Favourbrook grosgrain-trimmed cotton-velvet tuxedo jacket, £690 (mrporter.com)

When you’re standing at the baggage carousel, nothing says “posh” quite like a Globe-Trotter, the 125-year-old British brand beloved of Winston Churchill, and which the Queen has been using ever since her honeymoon in 1947.

While the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge have also been known to go on royal tours accompanied by their Globe-Trotters (Kate with a Longchamp tote as carry-on, William with a battered Thomas Lyte briefcase), the fabled brand has a rival in the affections of younger aristos who find their distinctive leather straps and general heft unwieldy.

For short haul jaunts they love Rimowa, the German brand founded in 1898 whose fashion credibility was raised when it was bought by LVMH in 2016, since which time it has collaborated with Off-White and Dior.

Sleek, lightweight and with “really glide-y wheels”, according to one wealthy friend, they love its durable aluminium frame, and that it’s the ultimate in stealth wealth, whose provenance is only discernible to those in the know.

Rimowa aluminium cabin suitcase, £870 (24S.com)