A Little Princess: My Princess Life

You would think the allure of being a princess would have diminished a little of late. What with the terrifying power struggles at court, the rarity of proper carriage travel, the social pressures to keep your head down at all costs and favour elegance over glamour, timeless style over fashion, sobriety and discretion over hijinks - it is surprising that anyone still considers the role worth pursuing. Modern princesses go to the gym all the time and covet product endorsement deals. How glamorous is that?

My daughter and her 3 year old friends play princesses for much of the time. These princesses are ultra kind to woodland animals and dance to Tchaikovsky Cds. Their dearest allies are fairies and ballerinas, their foes ugly peddler women proffering poison fruit. I've always believed true glamour to have a moral element to it, a sort of committed, hopeful embracing of the colour and texture of life, and these girls have it in spades.

If I were a modern princess I would feel a little let down by my options, or so I thought, until I saw some grown-up princesswear when cruising the shops this week. In Anna Molinari's Bond Street lair there were clothes that gave a nod to a princess's proper heritage and mythology, clothes that set the heart racing and could have been sewn by angels, but above all clothes that are-like all the best princesses - tough and sweet.

As I slipped my arm into an abbreviated, long sleeved ribbon tie-jacket in old rose marabou feathers which was one part Barbara Cartland and five parts winged biker girl I thought of the kind of life the garment would require. Like the best kind of jewellery it made something in my face spring to life. The shop assistant said, as they always do, 'You can wear it with anything, jeans...whatever.' She had a point. Even over my old skirt and jersey it didn't look stupid. It would be just the thing for receiving people in hospital after having a baby, but what it really screamed out for was a gold lace party dress. 'Surprisingly warm' I mumbled, but the assistant had vanished and returned with the navy version. Navy is a very big story for evening wear this winter people tell me. The blue jacket had a slightly more businesslike air but both items were thoroughly imbued with romance and would easily slot into the wardrobe of a modern working princess. Yet you wouldn't need to lead a princess's life to own one, because owning one would propel you towards that life. It would be a simple case of cause and effect.

Then I spied what surely must be another classic staple in the busy princess wardrobe: a very quiet charcoal grey V neck jumper with a glossy mink trim. Serious and fanciful, this would take one everywhere. Highly suited for ship-launching or other kinds of high octane activity involving chilly breezes, it wouldn't look outlandish in Marylebone Public library, nor at the school gates where it would lend the wearer an air of Katherine-Hepburn-style self regard.

Finally I saw the most glamorous pair of shoes I have ever seen: deep pink satin diamonte T bar evening sandals, that boasted a little sheaf of the pink marabou tied in a ribbon bow at the ankle. They were a sophisticated, skilfully crafted version of the kind of thing Mary and her friends wear. I caught my breath and hovered anxiously stroking the tall, slender heels. 'I'll come back later with my daughter' I whispered into my scarf. 'When she's twenty-one.'