Cast your mind back to November 2010, when a beaming Kate Middleton clutched the arm of her fiancé Prince William wearing a silk Issa wrap dress that matched the colour of her 12-carat oval sapphire engagement ring. Arguably the one constant – aside from the sentimental diamond band previously worn by Diana, Princess of Wales – in the royal’s public persona now is her bouncy blow-dry. Twenty-nine-year-old Kate’s wardrobe – that of a history of art graduate with Sloane Ranger style inclinations, including Longchamp totes and Penelope Chilvers boots – has evolved to one befitting a British figurehead who truly cares what she wears and what it stands for. Like her mother-in-law’s own sartorial journey in the spotlight, it has been interesting for the world to watch unfold.
Armed with a handful of Reiss bodycon dresses and the LK Bennett Sledge heels that would go on to become her first signature, the newly crowned Duchess of Cambridge, who wed William in the spring of 2011, threw herself into her new life with gusto. What she lacked in fashion nous, she made up for with mega-watt smiles and that unfailingly glossy hair, which sparked “Chelsea blow-dry” appointments to soar across the UK. Somewhere along the way, Kate realised that nude form-fitting high-street fashion was not the only way to tackle diplomatic meetings and horse racing alike, and changed tact.
The Duchess forged close relationships with British designers at the country’s leading eveningwear brands: Sarah Burton at Alexander McQueen, the woman behind her Grace Kelly-inspired wedding dress; Jenny Packham, who decked Kate out in glittering sequins for her first red-carpet appearance; and Said Cyrus at Catherine Walker, a favourite of Diana’s and the harbinger of the dress coats the Duchess grew to hold dear.
Over time, Kate honed her commissions from her trusted inner circle to become less about what she thought was required of her as a senior royal and more in line with her personal taste for ladylike pieces that spelled out: polished. Pleated dresses looked prim but not stuffy at the hand of Burton, while Cyrus’s knack for respectful, diplomatic tour ensembles ensured she always nailed the brief without looking too try-hard.
A new sense of confidence saw her welcome London’s rising stars, from Emilia Wickstead and her immaculately tailored, sugary womenswear to Erdem Moralioğlu’s explosive florals that tell stories, into her arsenal. Roksanda Ilinčić, too, introduced Kate to a different perspective on what royal fashion could look like, encouraging her to step outside the box in a memorable yellow Wimbledon look, which William later coined the “banana dress”.
By 2016, those patent LK Bennetts were out in favour of point-toe Jimmy Choos and Gianvito Rossis. Yes, there were still wedges, but Castañer espadrilles. Her beloved Aspinal of London and Mulberry bags also made way for Chanel classics and boxy Manu Atelier numbers that showed Kate had a finger on the trend pulse. Her traditional Jane Taylor millinery was put on ice as the Duchess became an Alice headband influencer in her own right.
As time went on, she learnt that newness wasn’t always the answer. The industry finally woke up to sustainability and Kate, whose relatable style has always lent on high-street stalwarts, such as M&S, used her platform to promote change. The newspapers gradually stopped shouting about “Kate rewearing a look!” and started listening to her subtle message that clothes are made to last. She did this all the while never relinquishing the other messages that are sewn into the seams of her public uniform.
Her carefully curated looks during the first pandemic year are the perfect examples of the Duchess’s thoughtfulness. Kate, never anything but the picture of professionalism, greeted her Zoom guests and clapped for the NHS in a rainbow of colours that signalled hope. She radiated down-to-earth glamour, and then delivered knock-out fashion – the kind we all secretly love to see on a real-life princess – when the nation needed it most. The bedazzled, caped Jenny Packham gown she wore to the No Time to Die premiere looked, in particular, like a shimmering beacon during a time when all-out fabulousness was scarce.
One of her final looks as a 39-year-old shows just how far Kate has come since she was nicknamed “K-Middy” by the press and the “Kate effect”, whereby the brands she wore enjoyed overnight success, took hold. Decked out in a festive jacquard-trimmed Miu Miu cardigan while prepping for a Westminster Abbey Christmas service, Kate, with those signature tumbling curls looking pristine as per, looked fashion, but the very best kind: timeless.
